I went out to the local Outback for dinner last night. I ended up meeting three young Lieutenants from Fort Campbell and we ended up having dinner together. We had a blast, but I couldn’t get them to believe that I only made $128 a month as a PFC in 1967 (with $55 a month jump pay on top of that.)
They also refused to believe my story about doing a “Duece and Half jump” to qualify for jump pay before we went to Vietnam!
But two of them were nurses at the hospital at Ft Campbell, and laughed their asses of about my stories about the summer of 1968 in the hospital.
They still probably thing I was pulling their leg.
And I got a kick out of calling all three of them “f**king Legs! Because they were!
They also refused to believe my story about doing a “Duece and Half jump” to qualify for jump pay before we went to Vietnam!
But two of them were nurses at the hospital at Ft Campbell, and laughed their asses of about my stories about the summer of 1968 in the hospital.
They still probably thing I was pulling their leg.
And I got a kick out of calling all three of them “f**king Legs! Because they were!