My husband is the oldest of six children -- 4 of whom are boys. He did all the things young men of his age and background did in his hometown of Kansas City, MO -- fished, hunted, played football, was an Eagle Scout, bought and torqued up his bright pink Pontiac Boniville.
In the '60's young men faced a mandatory draft and had to register with the Armed Forces at graduation or at 18 if they were not attending college. America hadn't entered the Viet Nam war at that time but all the signs were pointing to involvement by our military. He joined the Army and was assigned to the Special Forces or Green Berets as they were called then.
His background as a outdoorsman came in handy as he was able to use some of the skills he had sharpened as a young man; his desire to travel and face danger was met by the requirements to train in the cold, sleep in the rough
and jump from air planes landing in isolated areas. He was very handsome in his uniform and Green Beret. He learned to speak Urdu, Punjabi and Hindi -- languages the troops would speak in the countries with which we are presently involved. He reached the rank of sharpshooter and could have progressed to officer school but his enlistment was up before our country entered the hostilities.
He joined the American Legion and has been involved in activites with the Virginia Headquarters for more than 20 years -- and sells Poppies to commemorate Veterans Day every year. My husband loves his country and the sight of the Flag and the sound of the National Anthem brings proud tears to his eyes. I'm very proud of the service my husband gave to his country.