Born in the U.S.A. (Introduction, Pt. 2) [Springsteen on Broadway]

[Spoken]
And then there was Bart Hanes. Bart Hanes was the drummer from my first band, The Castilles. He was the first real drummer I ever played with. He was absurdly funny kid, classic class clown, was a good good drummer, with one strange quirk - couldn't play "Wipeout" by The Safaris. This may not seem so critical to you right now, I understand, but, in those days, your skills, your mettle, your self-worth as a drummer and as a human being, was tested in front of your peers once an evening by your performance of "Wipeout". Now Bart could play every other fucking thing, but when it came to "Wipeout" - beyond his capabilities. Was tragic, ya know. One day, he got off, he got up off the drum stool, he joined the Marines, then uh, Walter and Bart, they were both killed in the war in 1967 and '68. Bart was the first young man from our hometown to give his life in Vietnam. So, I really didn't know what to say to the guys I was meeting in Venice. I sat there for most of the afternoon and just listened. Then in 1982 I wrote and I recorded my soldier story. It was a protest song, the G.I. blues. The verses were just accounting of events, the choruses were a declaration of your birthplace, and the right to all the blood, and the confusion, and the pride, and the shame, and the grace, that comes with birthplace. 1969, Mad Dog, little Vinnie, and myself, we were all drafted, on the exact same day. All three of us. We rode together early one Monday morning from the selective service office on probably the unhappiest bus that ever pulled out of Asbury Park. Because we were on our way to what we were sure was going to be our funeral. We'd seen it already, all very up close. And when we got to the Newark draft board, we did everything we could not to go. And uh, we succeeded, all three of us, when I go to Washington, and I vacation to visit Walter and Bart, I'm glad that Mad Dog's, little Vinnie's, for that matter, my name, isn't up on, on that wall, but it was 1969 and thousands and thousands of young men to come would be called, simply sacrificed, just to save face for the powers that be, who by then already knew, they knew it was a lost cause. And still thousands and thousands of more young boys. So uh, so I do sometimes who went in my place, because somebody did