You know, it's a real conundrum. You always wonder what you missed, and feel a bit guilty about it. I tried to join the Marines in 1966 when Viet Nam was getting hot. My hearing kept me out of the service altogether, and I continued on my new professional job as a forester. But an acquaintance applying at the same time got himself a variance to join in spite of terrible eyesight. He was allowed in the Corps, and I heard later that he got shot up pretty bad.
My father joined the Marines in 1938 and we still have a picture of his ship going out under Diamond Head, the Northampton, which was later sunk, I think, in Leyte. He was a gunpointer and drove the Admiral's Barge. By December 7, he was in Butte recruiting new Marines. He met my Mom and when I was born in 1944, he was a navigator on a PBJ (=B-25) having been routed to navigator school after the Marine glider program was disbanded. He didn't have a high school diploma, which if he had, would have enabled him to become a pilot of the same aircraft. He mustered out after my sister was born in 1946, having been in at least two dangerous specialties but never having left the continental US. In that respect, his experience was a lot like yours, but I don't think he was pissed that he missed his war. At least, I'm not.
Did I want to experience getting shot up? Hell no! Do I think Viet Nam vets had a great time? Hell no! Do I think I missed something monumental? Hell yes! |
