My dad decided not to go back to Italy. It took 19 years before I got to see my mother. In the meantime, I had grown up gone to school in the US. I still wasn’t a citizen. By the age of 21, I got drafted into the US Army. I was a paratrooper and ranger, 82nd Airborne division. I stayed in for two years during the Vietnam War. I was stationed in the Dominican Republic, and was an interpreter for my colonel because I spoke Spanish as well as Italian.

I had a fight with this guy. I was platoon sergeant in charge of the barracks. Below me on the first floor, two guys were drunk, so I yelled out the window. I had just taken a shower and had a towel around me with my flip-flops on. I was definitely naked. This guy came up the stairs in full combat gear and started kicking the hell out of me. He gave me a sucker punch from behind and I fell down. He started kicking me and broke three ribs. I went to the hospital and he went to the brig.

To this day I have to say I think he saved our lives. Everyone in our platoon had gone to Vietnam shortly after this incident. They never came back, except for him and me. As soon as I got out, were supposed to be shipped out the next week. This was in 1965. I would have been one of the first ones in Vietnam.

He was Spanish from California. His name was Rodriguez…I’ll never forget that. He and I were both shipped to the Dominican Republic because we both spoke Spanish and that is how we got out.

There about 58 or 60 people in my platoon, and they were all wiped out. Maybe one person survived. That beating saved my life! It was jut one of those fluky things.

When I went to the Dominican Republic I was sent first, Rodriguez was on leave. I was in charge of taking in the recruits, and look who shows up…it was Rodriguez! He was in the same platoon as I was.

I never saw him after that.

If I saw him today, I would thank him from the bottom of my heart. And I am sure he felt the same way. It wouldn’t have happened if he wasn’t intoxicated.