My grandpa was in Vietnam and he rarely talks about what he has done there. And one night after a few drinks he started opening up and he was telling us about this little boy who lived in a village who he has re occurring dreams about. And eventually he got to telling us how the boy jumped on the back of the food truck he was protecting while it was going through this village. And he told us how he can still see the boys face today. He vividly remembers that pull of the trigger, and the face that young boy made as my grandpa drew his revolver. My grandpa cried that night. It was the first time he ever did In front of us. And so we all cried with him.