He come to us as soon as he saw our motorhome, helping with parking. A big guy, I guess he was from Samoa or Fiji. His mother was, but he was born in Panama. As a young man he ended up in the USA and serve in the army. He told me he had been to “hell and back” . Disarming bombs. Afghanistan, Iran (or Irak??), Siria. His memories don’t let him sleep as he dreams of a home for vets where they can heal and be whole again. No family, no partner, no children burden. An invitation to talk follows, a coffee in my home, 3 hours of non stop stories and horrors. A bit of relief, the opportunity to open up; perhaps for the first time.