My buddies called me Mr. Hercules. In High School I bench pressed 400lbs, played linebacker for the Booker T. Washington Warriors. When I got drafted in 1960, I was 22 years old with a 52-inch chest. I served in Korea, Germany and state-side as a drill Sargent at Fort Jackson.
Life was good!
Drilled troops half the day. Weight-lifted the other half and made my red Mustang shine like new money. Drive over to the PX, to pick up Queen after she got off work.
My goal was to save my money, marry Queen and start a health club. But instead, I got shipped to Vietnam.
I reported for duty November 1966, based out of camp Dufur in the central Islands.
I was a platoon Sargent with three squads, and I kept my troops trained and alert.
In the Spring of 1967 things really heated up. There were more fire fights, helicopter shot down. I wasn’t afraid but I wasn't sleeping all that well either, I admit it.
I woke up one morning and there was a hand grenade a few feet from where we were camped. It didn't go off, but Charlie had gotten really close...
(...)You know, before I lost my limbs, I was only half a man. I looked only at myself. Now I developed some humility. I can look at the average person and understand him.
So it's truly possible for a man to lose half his physical being and still become a whole person.
Transcription by Weiner Marthone
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