A memoir of a Vietnam veteran
The class contained six fellow Ohio State grads. We had been talking all week about the opening game of the season, wishing we could be back in the big horseshoe shaped stadium instead of doing push ups and running. Now, knowing that they were getting ready to kick off back in Columbus, we formed up. One of us found a good-sized stick, which he held like a baton. Soon the rest of us were in line behind him, humming out the tune of the march Le Regiment de Sambre et Muse, the music the marching band plays while performing "Script Ohio." We weaved our pattern around the parade ground until we dissolved into laughter, walking along, arms slung over each other's shoulders, singing Across the Field. We headed to the showers and then the O club to watch the game of the week, drown our sorrows in beer and catch the score from Columbus.
The army, TOBC, inspections and the Lieutenant Swanns of this world could not defeat us.
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