My mother had warned me not to enlist in the military. She had told me it'd kill me. I had enlisted anyway thinking that I could survive. I just got to my parents' house, visiting before I got deployed. When I got inside I realized that they must've found out somehow that I'd enlisted.
"What were you thinking!?" my mother yelled, "now you're going to go off and die and I'm gonna have to live with that!" She just kept on going, but once I was finally able to speak, my father started talking instead,
"You aren't even fit enough to get through boot camp. Once you step on Vietnamese soil, you'd be shot through or blown up."
"I know I can survive," I started, "I have a good amount of determination, you know that, and all my teachers are saying that we need to win the war." I kept explaining my choices and reasons.
"Ok, you've made your point, but why? Why do you want to go to war? Do you really want to?" my mother asked, almost crying.
"Because I want to help innocent people in need." I answered. "Besides, it's not like I can just unenlist or anything, I'm committed to it now." My father sighed greatly and stared at the ground.
"Ok, fine, no use going against it then, so I will do my best to support your decision." He finally replied. "Here, take my father's pocket knife, keep it with you always, it might just save your life." He said as he pulled out the knife. That day, I would never forget. It had been the toughest day of my life.
