The man or woman who comes back from war is not the same person as when they left. They have made stronger relationships with their brothers and sisters at arms. Their opinion of the war will change from when they first arrived in Kuwait, Iraq or wherever to when they get on that plane to come back in the arms of those they love. The sights they have seen are like nothing most of us will ever experience in a lifetime. I'm not just talking about the beautiful sunsets, the dry heat, and the camel spiders either. I'm talking about the explosions that miss them by a foot, the RPG that hit the jeep behind them, and the kid whose father was killed that picks up his fathers rifle and aims it at you ready to shoot without a care because you are in his home country. These experiences will be in their mind every morning they wake up and every night before they go to sleep. They will see the faces of their buddies who were brutally killed, and their friends who lost their legs from a mine. These images will never go away and as much as their family and friends try to understand, they won't ever. Vicar was that buddy that was wounded in the war. What had to be done was inevitable but it is how we "take care" of the ones we love that means the most. He loved the river and he loved his family. It was his time to go because he would just keep getting worse and didn't want to be a burden. His death was as honorable as possible and he was lucky to have been loved as much as he was. The struggle that was faced by this act was hard because of all that he went through in war impacted him forever. He will never view death lightly as he might have in the past. He gave Vicar a gift rather than make him suffer longer.