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“I’d like to talk to an assignments officer, please. I don’t have an appointment.” I gave her my name.

“Have a seat and I’ll get someone. Appointments aren’t necessary.” And she headed off. Phones were ringing and old mechanical typewriters were clicking away. Around the corner she came with an officer in tow. I stood.

“Mr. Cory, this is Chief Warrant Officer Cummings,” she stated.

“Hi, Mr. Cory. I’m David Cummings, but call me Dave.” He extended his hand. He wasn’t wearing his jacket, so I didn’t know if he outranked me as a warrant officer, since all warrant officers were referred to as Chief after making W2.

“Morning, it’s Dan,” I responded. Little did I know at that moment that within the next hour, Dave Cummings would change my life forever. “Let’s go back to my office. Want some coffee?”

“Yes, sir—ah, Dave, that would be great. Black, please.”

“Black it is. Have a seat. Be right back.” I settled in his office. “So what can I do for you?” he asked a minute later, handing me a mug of coffee.

“Well, I’m back from Nam on my extension leave—”

“Wait, you’re still assigned to Nam and home on leave?”

“Yeah, and I was wonder—”

“Wait one and let me get your file.” He stood and walked out of the room, returning a few minutes later with a file folder. He leafed through the pages.

“Give me a minute to look over your file.” I kept my mouth shut and drank my coffee. I didn’t know I had a file here. I thought all my records were in Nam, back at First Cav Division Rear in An Khe. He kept reading, finally looking up. “You have a pretty damn good file here, Dan.”

“What?”

“You have a letter of recommendation for a commission from flight school as you were the WOC battalion student commander. Your officer efficiency reports are some of the best I’ve ever seen. Your awards are impressive.”

“Dave, I’ve never seen that stuff. Officer efficiency reports—what do they say?”

“You signed them. You must have seen them.”

“When I got to my unit, the CO had me sign a bunch of blank forms, but I never saw them once they were filled in. Can I look at them?”

“Yeah, look them over. Want some more coffee?” He rose to get another cup, and I started reading. Damn, I guess my platoon leader and COs were happy with me after all. They’d said some nice stuff in there about me. This letter of recommendation from the school brigade commander from my time as the student battalion commander was pretty nice as well. Maybe the ass chewings were worth something after all. My awards were just the standard stuff every pilot got, except I did have that Air Medal with “V” for pulling the Cobra pilots out, and a second Air Medal with “V” for covering some grunts with artillery fire.

Coming back, he handed me my coffee. “So what can we do for you?”

“I don’t know. I was wondering what my options are.”

“Let me ask you, what are your plans for when you come back?”

“I don’t know. I’ll probably go back to college. I’m thinking about applying to Georgetown and getting a law degree.”

“Good option. How you going to pay for it?” he asked.

“I’ve saved, and I have the GI Bill.”

“Why not stay in, and we’ll send you to college? We’ll pay you your normal pay and allowances as well as flight pay and housing allowance, and you can use your GI Bill to pay the tuition,” he explained.

“Excuse me, you’ll do that?” A bit surprised, I was.

“Yeah, we assign you to the US Army Student Detachment, you choose a university you want to attend and you go to school. Going to school is your job. You don’t put on a uniform. And you still get all your pay and allowances. How does that sound?”

“I had no idea you would do that.”

“Look, Dan. You have a great file. You could have a great future staying in the Army. We can send you to college. I can get you a fixed-wing transition. I could send you to the Aviation Safety Program, or the flight instructor program. You could even get a commission with this file if you wanted to become an RLO.”

We talked for another thirty minutes. In closing, Dave said, “Look, when you

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