"We all die sometime," he replied, simply. He had no fear of the end coming. If anything, there was some surprise that he would live to die in his bed, where so many others had not. "I wonder only what awaits on the other side. I wonder if I will see all the faces. The people I killed. Will they await me? I think they will not hate me, much as I could not have hated them for doing what they had to, to survive."

He sighed, and was silent for a moment. "And here we are. Survivors all, gathered as comrades, friends. The only ones who can understand, the things our children and grandchildren can never understand. That I am supposed to address that memory, that understanding we all have...I do not think I can do it. Not in words."

He shook his head.

"My mind wanders. To absent friends, mostly. Forgive me."