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it has been 27 years yesterday, the 'ides of march' that my brother commited suicide. He was a Vietnam vet and was a casuality of that war. I saw him suffer for years, with old friends not wanting to be friends any more, and what he saw as false pretense in our society. What I mean by that is, we live in VT and have little communities with white picket fences, and when he returned from war that all seemed fake to him. He returned home to people who didn't care about his battles in war. My bother and I had several discussions together where he shared some of his horror stories of war, and what our goverment put him through. Although I don't think he had any regretts, he was a warrior who went to war at age 18, trained to do his job. What he could never get over was the lack of respect for what he did. The loss of his old friends.
Today I see his old friends the draft resisters who have made well for themselves, and family. Many of them have plenty of money.... the riches that my brother felt were unavailable to a returning veteran. He suffered for many years after getting home and his choice of suicide broke our framily hearts. I honestly don't think his friends felt that way... instead they felt he was 'crazy'. For me this has left me with a lot anger that I have had to deal with from the day he died. I look at our society and see greed with making money and having power with that money. I see his friends never giving back to society, just keeping all their wealth in their familys. This was the peace/love generation???? too bad so many never learned the meaning of compassion.