Sept. 2, 1965, was my 21st birthday. We were on the rifle range at Fort Jackson, S.C., laying in 3 inches of water, and it raining like crazy. Here I was for the first time, being of legal age to buy a beer and vote, and out here soaked to the skin. So I said to myself, "Happy birthday, self." I spent my 22nd birthday in Vietnam, my 23rd birthday in Baumholder, Germany, and my 24th birthday home in the good old U.S.A.