The best memory of basic was the feeling of accomplishment that went with graduating and shaking my drill sergeant's hand.

The worst memories were the number of shots and the fallout: Someone got spinal meningeal and the whole company had to get massive shots of penicillin in our backsides. Have you ever imagined 200 guns limping in step?

My friend Jeff lost his shot record when we were getting numerous shots, so he had to go through the line twice. Ouch!

Finally, one of the 6-foot-6-inch guys moved his arm, and the shot pistol scratched him. He happened to be in the second row of our formation when we formed up outside. One look at his own blood and he fainted, taking down six other guys.