I grew up in the 1950s in Indiana. I am an only child and was lucky that my father returned from service in the Navy during World War II. As a landing ship tank sailor, he was in the middle of all of it in the Pacific and had enough points to be discharged in February 1946.

My chance for a good education came in the middle to late 1960s. I received deferments for four-and-a-half years, as I was attending Purdue. My degree from Purdue and my draft notice came in the same mail in August 1966, so in January 1967 it was off to basic training at Fort Campbell, Ky., home of the 101st Airborne.

I was older than most of the boys who went through training with me, and it seemed that I had less trouble with the "mental adjustments" part of basic. The first night of basic was bad. We arrived late at night in cold weather and were not allowed any settling in or sleep. Several of the younger boys attempted suicide and kept the drill sergeants busy. They made it a night to remember.

Of course, the training was designed to shock the memory so that it would not be forgotten, and I still remember the routine for inspection, breaking down a weapon and packing a backpack. The training was eight weeks and full of a few really hilarious moments. In marching in formation anywhere on the post, we always marched on the side of the road to allow vehicles to pass. When we came to a crossroad, guards were posted on each side to stop traffic until we were through. One of the guards was a tall Kentucky boy well over 6 feet. At least once on every march, either his helmet or his weapon would fly off when he went under the signs along the side of the road. One time he lost his helmet, and his weapon was completely field-stripped by the sign. They never did find all of the parts.

I completed up to the sixth week of training, but on the way back to the post from bivouac week, I broke my leg (stress fracture). I spent two-and-a-half months in the post Army hospital, and that meant I had to be recycled to another unit going through basic. I had to do over weeks 4, 5 and 6, so my total training was 11 weeks. Boy, was I ever trained.

The first unit I trained with was assigned advanced infantry training and went to Vietnam. The second unit was made up of National Guard men who were in for basic and back to their state units. I was put on a plane (first ever flight) and sent to Fort Sam Houston, Texas. I got another eight weeks of training and became an Army medic. Then, because I had a college degree, I was made a permanent party at Fort Sam. While there, I helped train several cycles of medics for Vietnam. I know they received the best field medical training that we could give. However, the returning Vietnam soldiers were returned to civilian life in less than two weeks; not enough time to adjust from over three years of combat.

I will never forget my military service. I'm glad I served and would do it again.