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Forgive me, Father...
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for I know not what I do.
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He shouldn't have to go like this.
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A hero should be laid to rest among his comrades
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in the corner of some distant foreign field,
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on the battleground surrounded by his fellow men-at-arms.
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No, Willy, it's far better this way.
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A man deserves to die in the comfort of his own bed
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surrounded by his friends.
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Never again, William.
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Old Joseph was the last one for me.
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Look, we'll talk about it later, Willy.