As participants in the big event of my generation, my comrades and I share the burden of responsibility for its consequences, and they are almost unfathomable. When I came ashore off the troopship USS Geiger, my jungle boots stepping on Vietnamese soil for the first time, I was hooked. On that day, February 2, 1967, we convoyed to our base camp, giving me a great view of my home for the next year. It was beautiful. In fact, the most beautiful place I had ever seen….and I would spend most of the next year blowing it up. The people were as beautiful as their country with a highly evolved culture that was thousands of years old. Sadly, I would have few opportunities for peaceful contemplation of my surroundings and even fewer to enjoy the kinds of conversations I would like to have had with my Vietnamese "hosts". I will return to Viet Nam this year for the first time in over 45 years. Perhaps now I can express my feelings for the country and its people and find peace.