...
I was just bragging to BB2 that this stuff doesn't make me cry anymore. Ahem. Almost....
We tried so hard to get them home. We almost didn't talk about anything else. We went to the protests. We did anything we could to help keep the draft board off anyone in our orbits. We wrote letters to the troops. We held fundraisers for more antiwar measures. We argued our heads off with parents, relatives, strangers, any-damn-body who gave us any flak.
I still don't understand the stuff people say about the vets being reviled when they came home. I'd worn the MIA bracelet till the green had worn through the metal. I hugged and kissed every one of them I came across who'd come home alive. I took care of the crazy ones, even when "common sense" tried to dictate I stay away. Even though no one in my family was there, I had skin in that game.
I thought there was no way on earth anyone of my generation would stand for another war, that we were going to bring peace to this planet for at least the duration of our lives. I'm still shocked by what's happened instead, but, dammit, nothing in the universe could make me go into denial about WHAT'S GOING ON.
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