Well. So far no one's died from him patching them up yet, so the decent track record's staying intact. A gunshot wound or moderate burns he could still deal with, but he's hoping it won't come to him needing to do anything too complicated. Cutting anyone open or reattaching a severed something is far beyond what he would consider himself capable of doing.

Doc isn't familiar with ''nam' but he doesn't ask. However they personally feel about war, trauma, abuse, violence, he thinks he's pushed Raylan as far as he wants to be pushing anyone tonight. He taught himself to drive and he knows to ease up on the gas, cruise for a bit, take it easy. Makes the ride a whole lot smoother.

"We best be finding ourselves some proper whiskey then. You and I got shit to be done before we turn old and crabby and die of cancer." He'd like to think that the moustache no one would recognise him without makes him look older, more distinguished, like he knows what he's talking about, but even after all this time, he's a young man at heart, buried somewhere behind all those walls.