"When I finished high school, there weren't any jobs to be had, so I signed up for the military and went to Vietnam. The base camp I served in for a year supplied helicopters with rockets, miniguns, and ammunition. I wasn't in any frontline fighting, but our base got hit by mortars at least once a week. When that happened, we'd run way down into the bunkers till they'd sound the all-clear. It was scary. But it was scary to come back home too. People didn't understand what we'd gone through. They thought we were all crazy, that we all had PTSD. I was okay though. I never got shot, never got wounded. I've still got my two arms and my two legs, and I would say I'm blessed. A lot of people didn't come back."
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