And get spit on when we came home...........
I never went through any of that. The truth was, nobody really cared one way or the other.
For us that reached adult hood during the '60's, it's a miracle we even survived. My senior year in high school was one big joke, because what we had to look forward to was graduating, getting drafted, an going to 'Nam. If I hadn't got drafted, odds are I would have ended up in jail, because we just didn't care.
I was already working in my family's business when I graduated. One day you get the letter to report, and you did just that, lest they throw your butt in jail. You go through Basic, AIT, and wait for that levy for, as they said, "duty in South East Asia".
Then, as quickly as it all happened, you are back home, back to work, like it was some sort of bad dream.
I get reminded of the Vietnam War every time I look down at my legs and see the massive scars, compliments of an unseen trip wire. But nobody ever spit on me, called me a baby killer, or war monger. In all honesty, nobody really cared enough one way or the other.