Hey everybody, Rick here. I enlisted in the U.S. Army in the summer of 1977. I went to

basic training at Fort Dick's, New Jersey, the home as far as I can remember, of the

dive bomber mosquito, but eventually became an officer.

I served until 2004, some 27 years.

My younger sister, Tracy, enlisted in the military too, Air Force, you know, but the family

still talks to her. She served 10 years and one of my fondest memories is that I

had the honor depend on her sergeant stripes at her promotion ceremony.

We both followed in the footsteps of our dad

and both of his brothers who fought in the Korean War.

And as I'm saying this out loud, my wife is yelling at me from the other room.

No, no, amateur.

Lie down before you hurt yourself.

Her dad served in the army in three wars, World War II, Korea, and Vietnam,

but he was the luckiest soldier on the planet.

He was sick with pneumonia on a hospital boat when his unit fought at the Battle of Anzio,

was stationed in Germany during the Korean War,

and was stationed in Korea during the Vietnam War.

In three wars, he never fired a shot in anger.

Amazing.

And she had a gaggle of cousins and uncles that did their time as well. We never talk about it much but

serving in the military kind of runs deep in my family and I've noticed that's

true for many families. There's typically a branch of the family tree that has

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