I just… I can’t stop replaying it, standing there in his living room, the damn grandfather clock chiming a quarter past nine, and I’m trying to explain what it was like, you know, being *there*, the dust, the heat, the smell of burning… and he just stares at me, this blank, utterly blank look, and then he says, "And your name is?" My *name*? After everything, after I just spent twenty minutes trying to make him understand what I did for his country – for *him* – he asks me my name. I just… I don’t even know what to do with that. Is that normal? Does everyone’s dad just… forget them? Or is it just me, just my dad who was a general, who can’t even remember his own son’s name after I told him about the sand, the patrols, the guys I lost… it just makes me SO ANGRY.