My father was career military, my Mother was just a mom who loved her children whatever they did, and I was a young man who, after college and turning down a student deferment to attend graduate school, volunteered because it was the right thing to do for his country. My father, who taught ROTC at a university, could not understand why I did not want to make a career out of the military as he and as my older brother was likely to do. My Type-A father died of a heart attack, my older Green Beret officer brother was killed in Laos and I served 3 years during the Viet Nam era. I signed a waiver to go to Nam because I was the only surviving son. I just missed my Port Call for Viet Nam because Nixon started reducing troops being sent to war. So, my dad was a staunch career soldier and supported the war, my brother died serving his country while assisting helpless Laotian mountain people, and I served my country during a war I strongly opposed. My Mother still has not recovered from the devastation of my brother's death 34 years ago. However, she never once expressed her thoughts about Viet Nam. Mothers are special that way.
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