My father was of that era. He woke me up this morning after seeing my obit. “I have a Pete Retzlaff story.” When my he was in army basic training at Fort Jackson his platoon was asked if anyone could drive. “I can,” my father said. The colonel may need a driver, go to his office.
“Where ya from?” the colonel asked?
“Philadelphia.”
“You like the #Eagles? I served with Pete Retzlaff.”
“Yeah. I actually live down the street from Pete!” (This was a fib.)
“Come back next Sunday and we’ll watch some football.”
And for the next 8 weeks they watched the NFL.
“Philadelphia.”
“You like the #Eagles? I served with Pete Retzlaff.”
“Yeah. I actually live down the street from Pete!” (This was a fib.)
“Come back next Sunday and we’ll watch some football.”
And for the next 8 weeks they watched the NFL.
“So that’s my Pete Retzlaff story. Helped get me through basic training,” my father said this morning. “Hellava player.”
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