Just a few months before I joined, I bought a used CL-77 Scrambler and I loved that thing! Nothing on earth sounded like it and I used to take it howling up the coast to San Fran and back.
Around September '66 we captured an NVA lieutenant, a wimpy little guy with French gradually shaded glasses(dark at the top and thinner as it got lower in the lenses). He spoke French and so did I so I spent hours that night just talking to him. It turned out that he had left his CL-77 back home in Hanoi - while mine got destroyed by my younger brother when he "borrowed" it and got T-boned by a car. He almost lost his leg too but that kept him out of the war. He didn't have the instincts (still doesn't) so he wouldn't have survived long.
My next younger brother served in the army EOD in Vietnam and he was wounded too.
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you bastard