As they say..."all gave some,and some gave all" (like the Naval Aviator we're saluting now).
In the fall of 1969 I learned that my draft number was “8”. I was already slated to be commissioned & later went to Vietnam as a Huey pilot.
But it was in the summer of 1967 that Vietnam combat deaths started to weigh on me as I was 18 and already could have enlisted.
Never forget to honor our fallen brave. My wife & I are retired military & an annual pilgrimage to Arlington is the very least we can do.
I graduated from Kofa High School (Yuma, AZ) in the spring of 1967; I was just about 30-40 days shy of my 18th birthday. Although my grades were good (A- average college curricula track), there was no money for college. So I worked picking melons until I turned 18 in mid-July.
Went to the old post office downtown about noontime on my birthday and filled out my draft registration card. Then, since I was either going to enlist or be drafted, I went upstairs to see the recruiters.
It being 1967, the Air Force and Navy recruiting offices were closed with signs giving out-of-town telephone numbers if you wanted to contact them. They probably had waiting lists of young men wanting to enlist. The Army recruiter’s door had a handwritten note taped to it saying he would be out until mid-afternoon. The Marine Corps recruiter was in and the rest, as they say, is history.
Got my draft notice during third phase in bootcamp. DI told me to send it back with my service number (which I can still remember) and the reply “Currently on active service with the United States Marine Corps.”
Much later on, when I had a chance to learn about the hard work it was recruiting for the Marines during that unpopular war, I realized what Godsend it must have been for that SSgt to have a fully qualified recruit just walk into his office in mid-summer and ask to ship out immediately.
Best decision I ever made.