Los Angeles— When I got a letter from none other than President Lyndon B. Johnson in 1968 I knew all too well why he was contacting me. I was called upon to serve my country and protect freedom and our American way of life. I was far from thrilled about being drafted since I was being shared by two attractive ladies in an apartment in Chicago’s Old Town neighborhood. That draft notice ended a wild and wonderful ride I had been experiencing. It was off to basic training so I could actually fight and kill Communists that were trying to impose their will on freedom loving people. That was and still is an important and honorable mission. As luck would have it after light weapons infantry training and a set of orders sending me to the Republic of South Vietnam, I was rerouted to Germany. Sitting out the war as a busy medical corpsman was for me as good as it gets. The only combat I saw was in the swinging discotechs of the Sachsenhausen district of Frankfurt. That combat was only with the ...