In the late eighties/early nineties, while serving in Gander, I was a member of the town fire department. It was a great fire hall, mixed regular and volunteer, responsible for hundreds of miles of the Trans-Canada Highway, from halfway to Grand Falls to the West, and Terra Nova National Park to the east. We had our fair share of motor vehicle accidents that were "car/truck versus moose." In 1985 they had to deal with the DC-8 crash that killed 256 people, 248 of which were from the 101st Airborne Division. More than five years later, the government sent a psychologist from Memorial University to talk with the firefighters and the RCMP, who were still serving from the time of the crash. It was an interesting experience to say the least. The 'doctor' from MUN matched every stereotype in the book; tartan/plaid pants, bright shirt, and tie with a fish print. He was also excellent at his job. After a long period of question and answer, and trying to feel out the group, he asked "..what did you guys do after the crash was over.... after the days and days of finding bodies, and putting out the fires what did you guys do?...." He was met with silence, until one of the guys said "... we came back to the fire hall put away our gear (after a week) and a lot of us got drunk, and told crude stories ...." We were surprised when he said "Excellent!!! And those guys who didn't come back to the hall, how many of them are still with the Fire Dept?" The answer was very very few, if any. His point was quickly taken. I wouldn't advocate the drinking side of it so much, but the camaraderie and ability to commiserate with others who have gone through the same experiences, has never been so important, as it is now. Sort of reinforces the need for the military mess.