Ysl491
The year is 1977, the war just ended two years ago, and you've gone to visit your last friend from during the war, the last person in your squad, you were a Green Beret, an Expert in Guerrilla warfare, the best, with guns, with knives, with your bare hands. You've been trained to Ignore pain, ignore weather, to live off the land, to eat things that'd make a Billy goat puke... In Vietnam, your job was to dispose of enemy personnel, to KILL, PERIOD... Win by Attrition... Well, you were the best... You did what you had to, to win, but somebody wouldn't let you win, and then you came back to the world, and saw all those maggots at the airport, protesting you, spittin', calling you a baby killer, and all kinds of Vile Crap. Who are they to protest you, huh? Unless they've been you, or been there, and know what the hell they're yelling about?