My paternal grandmother stayed alive until I returned from the Nam in late Feb.1968. This was during the middle of the Tet offensive.
I didn't feel "at home" with my family so I'd cut the leave short, reported in to Pendleton early and signed a waiver to go back.
After the funeral service for my grandmother, while sitting on my parents couch (placed in front of a huge plate glass window, my first cousin sat next to me (a graduate of Berkely).
He turned to me and asked "did you enjoy butchering their children, and raping their women?" I reacted immediately, and tried to push him over the sofa and through the plate glass window so the broken glass could cut his throat.
I was told to leave by my family. Haven't seen that sob since, and still to this day want to finish the job on him.
Oh, by the way. The day before this, one of the guys in my squad's letter had arrived telling me the guy who took over my squad when I left had been killed by a sniper 3 days after taking over for me. Semper FI
Thank you for serving.
Sorry what you went through.