I graduated from Iowa State University in 1968. After receiving my diploma from the president, I went to my room in Alumni Hall and found my draft notice in my mailbox.

Imagine the efficiency of the government's draft system that I would get my notice on the exact day I would graduate! I had spent the past year watching protestors march on campus against the war in Viet Nam. They had even prevented military recruiters from meeting students on campus and were campaigning against classes that were pro-war.

The peace sign was everywhere. The protestors littered the campus with it and the non-protestors called it the chicken sign.

The student body as well as the citizenry of the United States was split into three groups: 1. Those who were absolutely against the war.

2. Those who were for the war.

3. Those who just wanted to be left alone.

Groups 1 and 2 were small but vocal. Group 3 was larger but quiet.

Our politicians argued vehemently but supported the war in the end. So young men got drafted and were faced with one of two decisions: 1.

Escape to Canada and never be allowed back into the United States under penalty of arrest. 2.

Submit to the draft. Ginny, my girlfriend, and I discussed this dilemma a number of times.

She would go with me to Canada but we could never come back home to a family reunion or a baptism or a graduation without my being arrested. We both had strong family ties and ruled out the idea of going to Canada.

So, I went to my military physical and became another of Uncle Sam's soldiers. I did basic at Fort Polk, Louisiana; advanced training at Fort Gordon, Georgia and began dog handler training at Fort Gordon as well.

After dog handler training in Okinawa, I ended up in Viet Nam as a sentry dog handler. Our mission was to protect ammunition, food, supply and helicopters.

The North Vietnamese Army and the Viet Cong all wanted to blow up ammunition and helicopters and they wanted to steal the food and supplies. I did my sentry duties but days off became a problem.

Usually, soldiers go downtown for drink and companionship. I'm a Christian and wanted to do things for my fellow man as well as remain true to Ginny.

I found an orphanage that had been damaged by rockets and mortars so I busied myself fixing it up. By and by my fellow soldiers joined me and a company wide effort took place to restore the orphanage.

In return the kids knew when the NVA were going to attack and warned us well ahead of time. Many of my fellow soldiers got "Dear John" letters from their girlfriends.

Ginny sent them brownies and comforting letters. When we have reunions, the guys could care less if I show up.

They want to see Ginny. All in all, the best friends I've ever made were the guys I was with in Viet Nam.

We're fast friends to this day. I came home to my Ginny physically fine but with a lot of emotional baggage.

I'd dive into the bushes at a loud sound. No one could approach me from behind.

I had nightmares. But it's over.

Ginny and I have raised a family and had a good marriage. Those that went to Canada got pardoned.

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