Do I remember basic training? How could I ever forget spending those precious weeks in paradise? I did both basic and advanced infantry training at Fort Lewis, Wash., before being sent to Vietnam.

One memory I have always been able to recall—it's not the fondest nor is it the worst memory, but it happened one day during a class on cover and concealment. The drill instructor put this question to the class: "When you dig a foxhole, what do you do with the dirt?" Without hesitation, and I being a 19-year-old farm boy from Nebraska fully knowing this answer, blurted out, "Dig a hole and bury it!"

As Gomer Pyle would say, "Surprise, surprise." It wasn't the answer he was looking for, and those weren't the push-ups I was expecting. I never volunteered to answer questions again.

I was stationed on "Old North Fort." My "maggot tag" (yellow tag) for basic had B-4-1 on it.