It was really tough to hear my mother screaming and the kids being beat up and thrown against the wall and thrashed around. I was there included as well. Always seemed to be harder to watch the other ones get it than myself, even though I didn’t enjoy it any more than anyone else. I remember this one night, after I was probably 15 years old, I heard this crying and screaming going on, and I said, “This is enough of this,”… I loaded up the rifle when we went to the bush the next day, and I just hid behind a tree, and I see my dad coming, I cocked the old rifle, and had it on his head…