Member Courtney of recent Air Force fame asks me for a book excerpt before she buys it.

I’ll bite. How about this:

Continuity

I don’t know if any of you have ever visited a movie set. There is a group of people labeled “Continuity.” Their assigned task is to keep everything in place from one shooting of a scene to the next. Every fork on a table must stay put, so they don’t jump around or disappear if the scene has to be reshot. Likewise, your claim must have continuity. A timeline must be constructed and verified for accuracy. It wouldn’t do to say you started to come down with this when you felt puke sick and reported to sick call in June 1978. What if the service medrecs show you went in for it in February 1979? VA will imply that your memory can’t be trusted back that far and will cite this as evidence of it. They usually do it the tricky way and say, “The records are silent for any entries in June 1978.” What they never say is that it shows up as February 1979. This is how they work. I’m serious. You will lose, and it will take a very long time, if ever, to fix it. Most Vets shrug and give up. They are not expecting it. Would you?

Continuity applies to the whole shooting match. Doctor’s names, places, dates, and more will be tested for a seamless tapestry of uniformity that agrees with your version. Complete this ahead of time. Construct the timeline on paper in a synopsis form. The more you recall it, the more you will be able to “relive” it and remember even more.

This may not be the most important thing you do in life, but it will have enormous financial rewards sooner if it is done by the numbers. You will start having dreams about this era of your life. Keep a notebook handy to write down a friend’s name that comes back to you or a place. Lucid moments are often like waking up from a dream. You will remember them briefly, so write them down before you lose them again.

To give you an example, I couldn’t remember the name of my pilot I was flying with when I was wounded. It was forty years ago. I could remember his first name—Chuck—but his last name escaped me. The harder I tried to recall it, the more it eluded me. One day I was driving up Meadowlark Street and turned left onto ENGLEwood Avenue, and there it was! Chuck Engle, First Lieutenant USAFR. Unfortunately, he was dead and unavailable to testify, but it was important evidence in the claim. Put your brain in neutral and let it idle. Your subconscious mind will retrieve it and post it on the desktop.