I just turned 18 in 1972 and walked into an Air Force recruiting office and enlisted because my father had waded ashore at Normandy. All three of my brothers served. Spent basic in San Antonio, TX and then tech school at the same. Got on a plane and went to Vietnam. Spent 16 months there (was supposed to leave at 12 but I stayed so a guy with kids could go home). I remember the sound that a round makes as it whizzes by your head. I also remember being so scared at night when the VC would come to the wire and lob grenades onto the hammer head. One maintenance guy caught a stray round one night and I remember him screaming. He lived, but at night, in a firefight, that sound is something you'll never forget. The tracers going down range, the smell, the sounds. About ready to shit all over yourself, praying to God in heaven to just get you out of there. Then you head home and you have to worry about the low life, sleaze ball, scumbags who would humiliate you if they got the chance.
I made many friends there. Some I still talk to and I can tell you right now, I would give my life and everything I owned to any one of them if they asked. But they won't. Those maggots who protested, who spit and threw stuff onto those returning vets are beneath contempt. They are nothing more than scum. Not even worthy enough to wipe the sweat off those guys balls. They are a waste of human flesh. Their opinions are meaningless.
I took off my uniform like they told us to when I returned and THAT is the biggest regret I have. I now wear my Vietnam Veteran jacket with pride and every time I see a man or woman in uniform, I tell them God bless and that I support them. Every time...