My First Drink

I gave the Air Force Police a crisp salute as I entered Selfridge AFB for the very first time. It was in the summer of 1966, the height of the Vietnam War, and this grandson of poor, illiterate, uneducated, but incredibly tough. loving and supportive Eastern-European immigrants, was finally giving back to the greatest country on the planet. I was a 25 year old Captain in the USAF. In the era of flag burnings, avoiding the draft, and moving to Canada rather than serve, I had gladly volunteered.