Air force brat and later Army Wife.

My father was an air force master Sgt and I worked on the flight line as candy striper. I gave out cookies milk and pop to men going and coming from Vietnam. Those going were cheerful and flirty. Those coming back were so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

My mother worked at the hospital. She would not let me work there. I was 15 years old. San Francisco and mist towns were hot with protesters. I was not allowed to tell anyone that I was any part of the military but I knew some flower children and hippies.

Two different factions. Two different views.