Wilfred Owen’s infamously chilling poem, written about a gas attack in WW1, is still a stark reminder of the brutality of war over 100 years later. A small segment of Dulce et Decorum est reads, 

“Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,

But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind,

Drunk with fatigue, deaf even to the hoots,

Of gas-shells dropping softly behind”…

Was the physical and mental trauma of such horrors enough to drive a young man to kill when he returned home from war?…