I was drafted into the United States Army in February, 1969. I had just turned 20 age two months prior. I couldn’t drink beer and I couldn’t vote. But, according to Uncle Sam, I was old enough to become a soldier, go off to war, and kill or be killed by other young men my age or younger.
One day shortly after receiving my draft notice, I was downstairs in the basement with dad while he was working on some project or another. He gave me some advice about what to expect in the service. Dad had served in the Marine Corps and fought in WWII, so I was all ears. I don’t recall most of what we talked about, but one bit of advice I know I heeded. He told me that once I left the service I would have the opportunity to attend college under the…
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