Chapter 1
June, 1967
Recruiting Station
Sleepyside-on-the-Hudson, New York
Come on all of you big strong men
Uncle Sam needs your help again
he's got himself in a terrible jam
way down yonder in Viet Nam
Dan Mangan pulled the faded red Plymouth into a parking spot just off the Square in downtown Sleepyside and brushed the hair from his forehead. He glanced longingly at the Police Department building, and, although he couldn't see it, he nodded towards where Hoppy, the grasshopper weathervane, stood sentinel atop Town Hall. He took a letter and small card from the envelope on the seat beside him. He unfolded the letter and read it, while fingering the card nervously.
He glanced at the return address on the envelope and recited aloud, "New York University, Office of Financial Aid. Thank you, Mr. Mangan. Your credentials are excellent, Mr. Mangan. In recognition, Mr. Mangan. We don't care where the hell you are going to get the rest of the money, Mr. Mangan. Half-tuition, Mr. Mangan."
Since coming to Sleepyside six years earlier, Dan had worked diligently, harder than anyone he knew, to graduate high school with honors and maintain a perfect 4.0 grade point average at the community college. He'd juggled part-time jobs with community service and extra-curricular activities. He'd earned respect from everyone who knew him, and many who did not. He'd been assured by everyone, including school counselors, that he'd have his choice of four-year colleges, offering him whatever he needed. Believing them, he'd applied only to one school. By attending New York University in near-by Manhattan, he'd be able to live cheaply by sharing an apartment with friends while earning his degree from an excellent, highly regarded university. All his interviews had gone well; he'd received his acceptance letter within days of his interviews, and he'd been assured that if he didn't receive a full-scholarship, the rest would be available in loans. What he got was a scholarship for half his tuition and an apology that federal funds were limited and unavailable unless he had collateral. He currently had $500 in savings and owned an eight year old Plymouth Valiant. His only living relative, an uncle, owned an eleven-year-old Ford truck, and one-third interest in a stable that was worth less than they owed the bank. He had no collateral.
Knowing he couldn't afford even partial tuition and that if he took a semester off to save up, he would get a telegram from the President, Dan felt he had no choice. Without a student deferment, he was 1-A. As the war became more unpopular and increasing numbers were seeking deferments, the Draft Board had become desperate for eligible young men. He'd be called up for his physical within weeks after receiving his Associate Degree, honors or not. Years of chopping wood and other manual labor insured he'd pass his physical and have to serve.
His uncle had offered to approach a business partner for a personal loan, but Dan refused. All his family and friends had sacrificed enough for him. He had no choice. If he enlisted now, within two years he'd finish his service to his country and earn his honorable discharge, as well as G.I. Bill eligibility. The G.I. Bill would provide for a college education with living expenses, and enable him to buy his first home, some day. The only choice was which branch of the military he should choose.
He stuffed the letter back into its envelope, glanced at the small card again before putting it in his wallet, and got out of the car. He leaned against the car door as he read the posters mounted on the large, store-front window in front of him.
Go With the Bold Ones, U.S. Navy.
READY. Join the U.S. Marines.
Your Flag, Your Country. U.S. Army.
Semper Fidelis.
"Semper Fidelis." He repeated it several times. "Semper Fidelis. Semper Fidelis. Semper Fi." Yes, the only choice was which branch of the service he'd choose.
He smiled nervously at the young uniformed man who was watching him from the other side of the window. He walked into the building and shook the hand that was offered.
Semper Fi.
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