Jesse I am writing this with tears in my eyes, In 1948 I was liveing with my Grandparents , one morning my Grandmother made me take a bath. Grandfather put on clean pressed Kakhis,Grandmother her best dress, I was combed and powered, we climbed in the 40 Ford truck and proceeded to the local farm community Graveyard. It was on a Knoll in between a rice field, Familes had gathered. Our neighbors son was returning to his final resting place from France. The Marine honor guard came at attention and the flag was given to his mother. Forgive me I"m crying as I write this. They shot the rifles and it boomed over the countryside. My Grandfathers son had survived Africa, Italy, Germany and had come home . That's the only time I saw him cry, his huge hands holding my both shoulders trembled and I turned not knowing as a child what was really going on. The sounds of the rifles have always stayed with me. That's part of the reason I served my country and love her like I do. I love that old Lady.