On a recent bus ride, two men seated behind me were talking about how they “lucked out” not having their numbers drawn in the draft lottery during the Vietnam War. I cannot begrudge your luck, but remind you that for every one of you whose number was not drawn, there were those whose were. It wasn’t a game. For many it was a life-altering event. Some of those inductees went to Vietnam. Some of them did not come home alive. Some, like my youngest brother, returned with debilitating illness that cut his life too short. And then there are the MIA, whose families may never know what became of their loved ones.

Whenever I go to the VA Medical Center, encountering veterans of my era and those of the more recent wars, I am quietly grateful that I returned with my body whole. I ask those two men to regard your good fortune as a gift, a blessing to be held close in your heart with reverent gratitude. A grateful “thank you” to the woman seated next to me (Moira), who grabbed my hand and endured my grip while I composed myself. Usually in such emotionally charged situations I walk away to save myself, but this time on a crowded bus there was nowhere to go. I could listen no more and had to speak out. So, to the two men; sorry if it seemed rude of my curt “Just stop it!” At the time, they were the only words I could bring out of me.

— Frank Gerber (US Army, Vietnam 1968)