After spending five monthes in Walter Reed, I was sent back to Schwienfurt Germany to wait for the rest of my unit to come back from down range. There seems like there's a holiday every other week, in Germany. Durning their beerfests, the herms would always shoot off these loud ass canons at night, right down the street from Ledward Barracks. Holy f**k, I'd jump out of my skin.
My favorite remedy was to swig on some more JD till I'd pass back out. Just bear down, and deal with it.
The whole "I fought for your freedom, you owe me" mentality coming out of some vets these days make me roll my eyes.
Big deal, you're not special. There's a million or so of us that's been over there, and even more that went thru shit that makes Iraq/Afghanistan look like a cakewalk.
Ugh is right.
/rant