A few words from the author: Wow, twenty chapters. . . I honestly never expected to write so much. I would like to thank you all who read my story, and thank everyone who reviewed it. I really appreciate reviews, believe it or not I actually enjoy reading (and re-reading) them.

Enjoy

December 16, 1968; 1043 local time; 20 miles out of Mineral, Washington, United States

Ichigo arrived at the family property and opened the metal gate that stood across the driveway. The ground was covered with snow and the sky was filled with clouds. The property that Ichigo's family owned was about ten acres of forest land, they set six acres aside for personal use and sold the lumber on the remaining four acres every twenty years. The forest on the remaining six acres was think with alder trees and undergrowth with tall evergreens scattered liberally throughout. Ichigo drove through the snow on the overgrown gravel road until he came to the campsite. The campsite was a small clearing consisting of a cabin, a firepit and a sheltered picnic table. Ichigo got out of his truck and stepped into the deep white snow. He picked up his bag and gun and entered the cabin.

The cabin consisted of a kitchen with linoleum flooring and wooden cabinets, a wooden floored living room, a bathroom, a bedroom that his parents always slept in and an upstairs loft, where his sisters would sleep. On Ichigo's right side he saw the fireplace. There was a couch to his left (his traditional sleeping spot), and a table in front of him. There was no electricity, the Ichigo would have to light a lantern and hang it on the hook above the table. This cabin was full of memories for Ichigo, he remembered "helping" his father build the cabin when he was only about six years old. He remembered the first time his father took him out hunting almost three years ago. He remembered coming back from that trip with nothing but tired feet, but happy to have spent time with his dad.

Ichigo sat down at the table and opened one of the boxes of ammunition. He took out five bullets one by one and loaded them into his rifle. Ichigo then pulled out his winter camoflage jacket and other warm clothing. He put the jacket and other clothing on. Ichigo then took out a backpack with food, ammo, and survival gear and slung it over his shoulder. He picked up his rifle and stepped out into the snow. Ichigo walked from the cabin and moved into the forest.

The forest was quiet, the sounds were muffled by the knee-deep snow. Ichigo unconciously walked with his rifle at the ready, his eyes darted this way and that searching for anything. His muscles were tense, ready to spring and fire the moment he saw any sign of an enemy. . .

Wait. . . Ichigo thought what enemies? there were no enemies. . .

Ichigo shook his head, this was America, he was home, there were no enemies. Habits that he learned in the jungle would be hard to break.

The snow laden branch of a nearby tree dropped some of its snow, the falling clumps of snow caused a rustle in the underbrush near Ichigo's right side. Ichigo jumped, whirled around, and started firing randomly into the underbrush. Then he heard a clicking sound coming from his rifle, he was empty. Ichigo sighed and wondered if he would ever get back into the swing of civilan life.

Ichigo decided to go back to the cabin and wait a while, the shooting probably scared off any deer within a mile from his location and he was getting a little bit cold.

Ichigo entered the cabin and sat down at the table. He pulled out his gun cleaning kit and started cleaning his weapon. As he wiped the black residue from the chamber; he thought about Ishida, always cleaning his rifle whenever he had the chance. Ishida told him that it was his way of coping with stress, in a way it was what alcohol was to Ichigo. Ichigo finished cleaning his rifle and looked at it. Before Vietnam he saw his rifle as a prized posession, a symbol of maturity and responsibility. Now he saw it as a tool of death and destruction, a symbol of hatred. . .

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January 4, 1969; 1809 local time; Downtown Tacoma, Washington, United States

Ichigo walked along the sidewalk towards the post office. It was a particularly cold and rainy evening and Ichigo wanted mail his letter and get home quickly. The letter was adressed to his father, in it Ichigo said that he was sorry for making him worry and that he wanted to come back and see him. He turned left at the street corner and saw several people in rain gear marching around the post office, they held signs and chanted "Hell no, we won't go." over and over. They were trying to stop the flow of draft cards.

As Ichigo pushed through the crowd his raincoat became undone, revealing his military uniform. One of the people saw his uniform and shouted "Hey, everyone, look at the baby-killer!". The people immidiately turned on Ichigo shouting insults, throwing trash, and spitting on him. Ichigo tried to ignore the abuse and mail the letter, but after five minutes of being spit on and insulted. . .

Ichigo snapped.

Ichigo's muscles tightened, his fist clenched, crinkling the letter in his hand. Ichigo dropped the letter. As the letter hit the ground, Ichigo's fist found the face of the man closest to him. Ichigo started lashing out violently at anyone close. Ichigo found the man who had shouted and started the whole mess. In a blind rage Ichigo attacked the man, throwing him on the wet sidewalk and proceeding to punch him mercilessly in the face. Ichigo took all his frustrations, all his hatred, all his anger out on the man's face.

Ichigo was arrested on three counts of assault and battery. Ichigo sat in the police station, the man he had beat up was in the hospital. Ichigo had given the man two black eyes, a broken nose, a broken jaw, seven missing teeth, and severe trauma to the back of the head when he threw the man on the sidewalk. Ichigo went before a judge and pleaded guilty to the crimes. Ichigo offered to go back to Vietnam instead of prison or fines.

The judge looked at Ichigo's records. "Let's see. . . three months in Rukongai. . . Tet offensive. . . four months in Saigon. . . five months in Boun Ma Thout. . . Kid, you've been through some bad fights, do you really want to go back?"

Ichigo responded. "Since I came back here I've had almost nothing but people shouting, spitting and throwing garbage at me. When I was in Vietnam, people spat and threw garbage at me sometimes. . .

The only difference was, in Vietnam. . .

I could kill them. . ."