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BACK IN THE SIXTIES, I was enrolled for a couple of years at a small, land grant, all-male college that required ROTC [Reserve Officer Training Corps] during freshman and sophomore years. I transferred in as a sophomore and therefore had to do a year of this pretend soldiering. I was car-pooling with three other guys, two of whom were juniors who had chosen to remain in ROTC and were ergo officers. Although we were friendly four days per week, on ROTC days (Thursday) I was required to refer to my two carpool mates as ‘Sir’ and salute them. Each of them took it very seriously, an attitude which only heightened the absurdity factor for me. The Vietnam War was just getting cranked up and I hope each of them survived it. As for me, I didn’t last long in the program and ultimately transferred to another school, wondering how the hell I had ended up at a college without girls that required me to learn how to dissemble and reassemble a rifle in X minutes. My ostomy kept me out of Vietnam and so the ROTC was wasted on me.
