In Oct. 1966 I was drafted into the U.S. Army, the largest month of draftees up to that point.

There was no lottery for being drafted so pretty much everyone's number was 19 - my age.

I was sent to Fort Jackson, SC for basic training. For several weeks we heard about the infamous bivouac week where we would endure a week of torturous training.

No one looked forward to it - pitching a pup tent, low-crawling under barbed wire with live ammo being fired inches overhead, often in rainy conditions.

To this day, I know nothing about any of the entire bivouac experience.

When I was drafted, my father-in-law, Irvin Haney, a WWII Navy veteran, told me to get my military driver's license ASAP. I did so, and my turn to drive the Captain's jeep for a week happened to be bivouac week. I drove him to and from the area and slept alone in the barracks.

Thanks Pop!