I graduated in '88 and the recruiters were all over me. I'd just string them along for free socks, shorts, and other crap. Several of my buddies enlisted in the Marines and went on to Kuwait for operation Desert Shield. I told them that it was just a war over some rich dude's oil. My childhood friend and next door neighbor visited me after basic and was excited to go kill himself a "camel jockey". He said to me that he wanted to feel what it's like to kill somebody. After his tour he came home, became a cop, and then murdered his pregnant wife. My first instinct is to say to a vet, "Fuck you for your service." Then, I think, "You know, I'm sorry for your service. We were all dupes."