Brian and myself were both too young to have served in 'Nam.
However, in his quieter moments, Brian often intimated to me that, had we participated in America's noble war against the evil forces of Communism, he felt that he would have saved my life, risking his own by carrying my wounded body across his shoulders to the haven of a waiting Helicopter. I in turn told him that were he to die, I would sink to my knees in front of his mangled and charred remains and cry "NNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!" until my lungs ached.
Occassionally I still drive into the countryside at night and shout "NNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!" at the sheer unfairness of it all.
