Was drafted the end of 69 as, I arrived in NAM in time to invade Cambodia, May of 70. If I recall my number was in the 70s! At that time I'd already been in a half dozen firefights. Initially thru our bad luck, we encountered NVA several times and garnered a reputation. The reputation resulted in numerous insertions when intel found hot spots. Thing was, because of attrition and casualties, NAM units had constant personnel changes, so how elite could we have been? It's kind of weird, but lately I've thought a lot about the shite I experienced. Folks died on my left and right, yet despite having a rocket propelled grenade hit a tree right next to me and flipping me (backward somersault) and ambushed to many times to count, in nine months in the jungle, I only ended up with a bunch of shrapnel. I attribute it to my guardian angel and my will to live, as if I would have perished it would have killed my parents! Some men kind of killed themselves too. One late afternoon we were setting up and someone saw movement. Our company commander, instead organizing a response, irresponsibly just says, "looks like we have to work for our supper boys!" and just takes off (It was a cluster f$%k) and loses his life. Another time, the guy next to me claims he sees movement after a firefight (he definitely did not, he was just a guy that liked to play war.). He throws a frag, hits a tree, bouncing back killing him. Most of the things I experienced I haven't even shared with my four children!