You and Scaramouche had a son, one rainy afternoon, there knocks on the door, four men in uniform, carrying their little soldier home, he should have been a rock star but he never had the money for a guitar... what he should do..? He should have become a politician... but he never had the proper education... he should have become a father... but he didn't even make it to his twenties... now here you are, standing at your door while they hand you the country's flag with a necklace representing your deceased son