I was a paratrooper right after high school. Jumping out of airplanes, training for war, firing machine guns, playing with explosives, those were all cool things to do when you're 18. Hell, I was far more concerned about getting seriously injuried than killed. I figured that if you're dead, it's over and you have nothing to worry about but you could live many years confined to a wheelchair or worse. I guess the book "Johnny Got His Gun" was implanting its message in my mind. Anyhow, a couple years and a few close calls later, I decided to switch to the Air Force. They have a better way of doing things. In the Army, the lower your rank, the closer you are to the fighting and dying. In the Air Force, for the most part the officers go off to war while the enlisted folks wait for them to return (or not) back at the base.