I just graduated high school in June, 1971 and in August I watched my number come up on the TV screen. At first I didn’t know if # 3 was good or bad! It wasn’t long. Within a week I received my first notice in the mail. Then I knew it was for real. My Mother kept after me every day asking what I was going to do. I replied let them draft me, go do my duty and come home. Well She would have none of that. She knew more about the war than I did. Constantly, pleading with me to join a national guard outfit or army reserve unit. Finally I relented and just barely got in a unit before I was drafted. All my young live I wanted to be a soldier and die some glorious death in combat. I grew up reading much on the civil war, WWI and WWII. But that first week in Fort Polk LA certainly changed my outlook in a hurry. However looking back at times I wish I had followed my own instincts and let them draft me. I feel like I should have been there to experience what those men felt and went through. I did 6 years and have a honorable discharge but I feel like I missed something.
