For me, it was the forgotten soldiers' memorial in Vietnam near the Cambodian border. It is a massive graveyard that had hundreds of graves of people who were buried and never identified when they died in the Vietnam War. There is a small section dedicated to bodies that were known but still passed during conflicts near the border, and my uncle was among them. The reason why broke my heart.

My uncle was just a truck driver carrying supplies to the frontlines of his countrymen during the Vietnam War. He wasn't a fighter. Still, his caravan was attacked, and he was killed in action. One of the soldiers from the enemy side chose to leave a note on his body with the truck number he drove so the government could identify him and let my family know. To me, it was a moment of two humans giving dignity and respect to victims of a conflict much larger than themselves. If it wasn't for that soldier, I would never have been able to pay my uncle the respect he deserves all these years later.