In 1965, war was on simmer, and buddies were getting drafted or going into the safer Air Force, Navy, or Coast Guard rather than the more combatant Army and Marine Corps.
I'm seventy-five. Had I had the opportunity to do it again, I'd go as a noncombatant combat photographer or broadcaster for AFN wherever in the world I was sent. That's another story.
Aim High took years to write. I retired in 1992 and started writing this in 1999. Finally, all dressed up with a copyright from the Library of Congress, I did some serious procrastination. Solicited reviews were mixed, as was the body of friends. Thirty-five percent were never in the military. Those who were in uniform from the '60s to '90s are biting at the chomp to read the sequel, We Don't Do That on This Ward.