I hate to give up my age but I was a teenager during the Vietnam war era. My draft lottery number was 51. I would have been required to report for service but I had just started college and got a deferment. As things turned out, the war ended before my deferments ran out and I dodged the bullet, so to speak. But I had and lost a number of friends who served in Vietnam. Those who made it home were often wounded and almost always scarred in some way. At that time, I was too young and immature to fully recognize how much they sacrificed for the rest of us, but not so much that I couldn’t recognize the travesty of a nation that disrespected its veterans.