So I figured the fastest way in and out was to volunteer for the draft and get it over with as quickly as possible, which meant two years in the infantry, probably in Viet Nam. I could have gotten easier, safer duty, but it would have meant signing up for at least 2, mayby 4 extra years, and I feared that more than I did being a grunt.

Then I heard about the Naval Reserve that had a program of 1 year of stateside drills in my hometown unit, 2 years in the Fleet, another year of in my local unit, and two years of Inactive Reserve Status, where you are on call, but have no duty assignments. ("Just keep your seabag packed, sailor, and stay where we can find you.")

I signed up and was accepted for the Reserve program just two weeks before the Navy closed it. Needless to say, a lot of people were trying to get in, the Nam was starting to get serious.

That was October of 1966. In October of 1972 I got my Honorable Discharge in the mail.

Patriotism and love of country had nothing to do with it. But neither was I opposed to the war on political or conscientious objector grounds. At the time, I felt dodging the draft by leaving the country or feigning illness would have been dishonest. I may be a cynical opportunist, but I do have standards.

I've always felt a little guilty about missing the defining event of my generation, especially by spending the war on an air-conditioned ship, with three square feeds a day, a hot shower every morning, and a clean fartsack to crash on every night.

But as Cousin Rudy (who had a similar experience) put it: "Don't worry about that. At least, we showed up."