I would not be a draft dodger because The author write, “I remember one cute little bright eyed...kid... who’d been shot through the lung. I operated on him and the dressings were painful. I had nothing for the pain, so I would talk to him...I knew I’d hurt him, I could see the tears in his eyes, but he would not call out...this kid grabbed me around the neck and
I would not be a draft dodger because The author write, “I remember one cute little bright eyed...kid... who’d been shot through the lung. I operated on him and the dressings were painful. I had nothing for the pain, so I would talk to him...I knew I’d hurt him, I could see the tears in his eyes, but he would not call out...this kid grabbed me around the neck and