Fighting the Demons

I took my first drink on June 13, 1966. The reason I can recall the day is because I got to Vietnam on June 10, 1966 (that was AA's thirty-first anniversary). Three days after my arrival, I was involved in my first action with enemy troops. I was a medic. I treated four casualties that day. Two died, two lived. That afternoon, at the fire base, I was sitting alone, shaking and crying. An old sergeant (he was probably forty) came up and asked me what was wrong. He was a three-tour veteran of Vietnam, and had also served in Korea. An old warrior without doubt. I told him I was scared. He reached in his pack, produced a bottle of Scotch whiskey, and told me to drink it. He told me it helped get rid of the "nerves." I took my first drink of alcohol that day, in a foreign country. I drank the fifth of Scotch, acquiring a taste for it almost immediately. I continued to have a taste for it until January 1, 1987, the day I took my last drink.