About 1980, I was baling hay for Farmer Dave (I dated the Farmer's Daughter !!!!) and on the rack one day was his son in law that lived on a house that was on the farm property. An OK guy except for he soon to be divorce for his philandering.He had served in Nam.We were about 15 miles from a moderate sized airport and it was not uncommon sometimes to have helicopters fly around.I heard one coming (I always look for aircraft when I hear them) and I saw the S-I-L looking up to the sky with the thousand yard stare and he was all but frozen.When the sound faded, he went back to baling like nothing happened.
Likewise, Brock,even in my dreams.
I'll never forget the moment when I was waiting for a hop from USARV Headquarters and as the chopper came in with a Confederate Flag painted on the side which gave me a rush of joy and pride.