“My point…” he muttered to himself as if it should have been obvious. He turned back to his walking. “I once saw my battalion commander do a keg-stand surrounded by a bunch of rowdy Lance Corporals at the Marine Corps Ball,” Shane began out of nowhere. “Now I was a wee young boot at the time so the BC was, to me, this untouchable lofty creature that existed only as a photograph on a plaque outside the company office. A man in a high tower who waved his hand and made decisions that sent young men like me to die every day. And you know what I felt upon seeing that man’s shoes up in the air, chuggin cheap beer straight from the tap?” he asked the group. “Comfort,” he answered without waiting for a response. “I was comforted.Was it the most dignified thing for a man of his position to do? No. But it reminded me that deep down that mysterious creature was just like us. At one time he was in our shoes, and at his core he was still that person. And I want them to feel that about you.”