I’ve come to the conclusion in my old age; we love war, killing, and its part of us. We love war and killing for what it does to us, not for us, because often it is not over land, or power or treasure, it’s simply because we like it. Used to it, weaned on it, and to be quite honest, one glorious day in war, can last forty years. Without war, and heroes and killing, we would be like a helpless dray whale, dying on shore.