Going for six months would let him serve now and avoid getting drafted later.
“It wasn’t his fault. He was just a kid who didn’t know shit from Shinola.
“I should have enrolled him six months earlier but my husband’s illness took just about everything out of me, and I didn’t know much about schools to begin with.
“The trade school we decided on was full and so my son was bumped back a semester. He had eight months to kill.
“He tells me a couple guys from high school joined the Army Reserves. So we call up the school and they say going for six months would let him serve now and avoid getting drafted later. Employers would like that. I see him off at the Greyhound — grateful my mistake was a blessing in disguise.
“The TV starts talking about U.S. advisors in Vietnam. A few years later we have half a million boys in those jungles. LBJ starts a lottery for the draft and Life Magazine shows a girl running down a road with her clothes burned off.
“I couldn’t shake the idea that if it wasn’t for my stupid mistake my son would have got drafted and would be part of the body count on the TV. I felt horrible seeing them others suffer.
“During the Tet Offensive they called up some reservists. I wasn’t going to get caught napping again. During a Sunday phone call, I tell my son that me and Dad have some money put away and we want him go up to Canada if they call him up,
“‘I took an oath.’ he says.
“‘Don’t matter. You was underage and I signed for you.’
“’Turn off the TV, Mom.’ he said.” 
