The luxury and curse of distance and hindsight affords time for contemplative perspective, reflection and regret on geopolitical orientation and machinations. In the dirt (or sea or air, as it were) disposable hero young men do what young men do; become our brothers keeper and fight other young men and their brothers from the tribe on the other side of the hill. The fact that all may be brothers to begin with is an archetypal irony that has played itself out innumerable times. And if you do not appreciate the lessons offered by integers of that equation, you never will. Beware the old man in a world where men die young.