War Protests!
“You’re gonna grow up today more than ever before, Billy. I’ve buried a lot of people in my life, and it’s never easy. At least he died for a reason.”
“I was so proud of him. I let him down so many times, Dad. He was the best! I should have died instead of Pete, Dad! It should have been me who died!”
“What? Was fair to the men who died on D-Day when we invaded Normandy? You think it was fair to the 60,000 soldiers who died in Viet Nam? It could be both of you coming home dead, God damn it! There is no such thing as fair! Praise God you’re here with us today, Billy!!”
“It’s hard, Dad!!”
“Hell yeah, it’s hard! It’s tearing me up, Billy. It’s tearing me apart, but I simply can’t tolerate what they’re doing over there.” He twisted the front of his jacket with his fist as he pointed across the street to an assemblance of people with signs and umbrellas.
“They’re war protesters. I’ve checked into it – it’s legal for them to be there and there’s nothing we can do about it. Might as well get used to it.”