I joined the army at seventeen

in 1969 (against my father's wishes) because there was a war on. Because in my young, naive way I loved my country. Because as high school ended the army promised a job, however dangerous, and training. Because I wanted to get away and Viet Nam was away. Because I supported the war and was not running away to Canada or running away with excuses about why I couldn't do it.

I didn't think I might die... or that war, when I finally saw it, would prove so devastating it would destroy the rest of my life. I didn't think the war could wait for me while I attended college or worked at a fledgling career.

Nope. I just did it. I pasted no yellow ribbons on my SUV.