Back in 1985 I rode a Greyhound to Chicago when I was a civilian and was joining the Army. We made a stop at a town with a state prison and two newly released prisoners boarded the bus, one was white, the other black. The white guy was scary as hell, and the black guy sat down next to me. He was a cool dude, a Vietnam vet, and when I told him I was joining the Army, he started telling me some war stories. For some reason I remember him telling me "that a lot of white dudes I served with were brave, and some of them never made it back", all while he was smoking a cigarette and drinking a Budweiser. He ended up falling asleep halfway to Chicago.