Twenty-Two Ten Saint Charles Street

By Paul T. Nicholson

Do you believe in witches? Do you believe in the devil?
We have all been intrigued with the mystery that surrounds witchcraft, the devil and sacrifices. From as early as the written word Satan has been with us, and the idea of sacrifices has captured the imagination.
Did you know that there is a private club in Baltimore, Maryland that practices witchcraft, and its members worship Satan? The club members are doctors, lawyers, judges, and business man and woman who are very wealthy and famous.
Twenty-Two Ten Saint Charles Street will take you on a journey through time. The story interweaves its way through elements of supernatural events and human drama. Through excerpts from her diary you will come to know Miss Catherine Rhodes, who in 1854 settled in Baltimore to start a business with her brother Alexander. You will feel in your heart some of the pain and suffering the American people lived through in the years leading up to the Civil War. You will experience how undivided Baltimore was during this time period, and how a group known as The Baltimore Roughians would roam the streets and question anyone who would gather in groups of two or more.
But most of all you will discover a secret that has been hidden behind wooden doors for more than one hundred years. No one has known about it because the fear that surrounded it still exists today and that secret is The Freedom Crusaders. You will also find out about the tunnel, and what it meant to the Freedom Crusaders, how they used it, and closed it off, never to be opened again.
Then, you will travel through time to 1962 and live with Special Forces Sergeant First Class, Thomas Kirkland. You will experience the new war that the American soldier was unprepared to fight. The battles, the misery, the friends lost, and the prizes that came from the jungle.
Sgt. First Class Thomas Kirkland will take you through the streets of Saigon as he learns about Vietnam and its people, and how they suffered for over a century with the French. In your minds eye you will meet and see Michelle Bovere standing in front of you. You will feel the pain she and her people lived with, and like the Baltimore Roughians you will discover the Binh Xuyen. Follow Sgt. Thomas Kirkland through a battle where he loses his friends, and has a rude awakening to what Vietnam was really about. Watch his life change when he retires and brings home with him the knowledge of Satans Fifth Wave, and the Devil.
Do you believe in witches? Do you believe in the devil?
Ask Phillip Thomas if he believes.
Phillip witnessed something he wasnt supposed to see: he wasnt supposed to be there. Now hes scared. Hes got to tell someone. Who will believe him? Its too unreal. In the 1970s you dont have witches and they dont sacrifice babies its too unreal. How can he prove it? Who can he tell, who can he trust? He needs to get proof. So, he must continue to go down to the club, and continue to see his girlfriends best friend, Marlie. But not just for sex, this time it will be to get proof. He remembered seeing a diary that had names in it: Catherine Rhodes, Thomas Kirkland and Samuel Cross, with notes about drugs, prostitution, and kidnapping young children and babies yes, for Sacrifices.
Phillip witnessed something that he wasnt supposed to, now what will he do?
Twenty-Two Ten Saint Charles Street will take you on a journey through time from 1854 to 1976. Phillip learns about slavery, the Civil War, Vietnam and witches. But most of all, Phillip learns about Twenty-Two Saint Charles Street.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 25, 2002
• ISBN: 9781462800445

Paul T. Nicholson

Paul Nicholson is a native of Baltimore, Maryland. He learned about Satanism while involved in a long-term relationship with a woman, who he discovered was a witch and frequently visited a club in downtown Baltimore. Over time he learned that the club was a private organization whose clientele were very famous and wealthy people who practiced witchcraft and worshiped the devil. Intrigued with the secrecy that surrounded the club he decided to learn about Satanism, witchcraft and the occult. He read through newspaper articles, published FBI reports on satanic cults, and spent hours researching in libraries and occult bookstores. This journey led him into an underground system that few people realized existed. After the relationship ended, Paul and his son from an earlier marriage, moved to San Francisco, California, where he settled into a home near Golden Gate Park. There, he decided to write about his experiences with ‘Twenty Two Ten Saint Charles Street.’

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Copyright © 2002 by Paul T. Nicholson.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Contents

Chapter I

THOMAS KIRKLAND—

BALTIMORE 197 1

Chapter II

THE HEROIN

Chapter III

PHILLIP THOMAS BALTIMORE, 1978

Chapter IV

MARLIE

Chapter V

THE AFFAIR

Chapter VI

THE INVITATION

Chapter VII

THE LONG BLACK ROBE

Chapter VIII

THE SABBAT

Chapter IX

THE SEARCH

Chapter X

THE DIARY OF

MISS CATHERINE RHODES

Chapter XI

SAMUEL CROSS

Chapter XII

THE STORY

Chapter XIII

THE LAST VISIT

Chapter I

THOMAS KIRKLAND—

BALTIMORE 197 1

(Yo no creo brujas-pero hay)

Thomas was sitting at a small table smoking a cigar while he looked out his bedroom window.

Darkness started to fall over the city, as he reached over and turned on the light to read the newspaper he held in his hand. He laid the paper down, walked over to the closet and took out his old army fatigues.

The newspaper sat folded on the table near the lamp, exposing an article that read:

‘WELL KNOWN DOCTOR TO BE HONORED IN WASHINGTON TODAY’

Doctor Patrick Couvillion, well-known psychiatrist at Spring Grove hospital in Baltimore, will be honored today at the Sheraton-Washington by the American Mental Health Society. Doctor Couvillion, who has devoted years of research and study in the mental health profession, and years of untiring work helping the Baltimore Museum of Art, will be honored tonight along with his wife, Barbara, by his colleagues both of the medical and art professions, at a dinner to be held at 7:00 P.M. tonight.

Next to the paper was an old hand drawn map. The map was of a tunnel that connected a number of homes together in the Mount Washington area. Next to one of the homes was a red penciled star with the name Couvillion.

Thomas walked over to the table and looked at the clock that set next to a lamp. It said, 7:30.

He walked over to the dresser and looked into the mirror that hung over it, then picked up a small can of black cream and started to rub it on his face. He put on a black knit cap, stood back, and looked at himself.

He was wearing his army camouflage gear.

Thomas looked at his wristwatch and set it to read the same as the clock on the table.

He bent over and picked up his knap-sack and threw it over his shoulder, pausing for a moment, as he looked back into the mirror.

Then, for a second, he flashed back to Vietnam.

It was the spring of 1962.

He was part of an elite group known as the Special Forces. They were sent into Vietnam with General Maxwell Taylor. The general had promised the South Vietnamese government, after his visit in the fall of 1961, that he would be back again with help to suppress the Communist plague that threatened their country.

Thomas joined the Army right out of high school in 1948 and was sent to Korea. It was there, while working in a supplies unit, that he started dealing in the black market. Something he stayed involved with throughout his military career.

In 1952, he joined the newly formed Special Forces unit and was transferred to West Germany for training.

He was especially qualified for this mission in Vietnam because he spoke fluent French, which was still the main language of the Vietnamese commanders and the political community.

Thomas spent a great deal of his R&R in France, where he collected antiques and paintings from his black market profits, and sent them home to Baltimore to his high school friend Jimmy Tower.

He had been sending his profits back home for years. He and Jimmy

used some of the money to buy a little bar in Fells Point, which Thomas planned to run when he retired after he got his ‘twenty’ in.

Thomas was part of an advisory unit stationed in Saigon, when he first arrived in Vietnam.

Saigon was full of colonial versions of stone buildings of Paris, built by the French, and all done in orange cement. Thomas called it his Little Paris.

As he stared into the mirror, he reflected back to when he and his Special Force buddies Speed, Kreech, Puggy, Stretch, and Be Straight were in a cab — a rear-engine Renault, speeding through the streets of Saigon.

Be Straight was in the front seat, and Thomas could remember him saying, "Hey man, the way these fuckin’ cabbies drive man, you’d think you be in a fuckin’ ah, demolition derby man, I ain’t lying either.»

Hey T.K., Kreech nudged Thomas, „You sure there‘s going to be a lot of women at this club?"

T.K. looked straight ahead. „I hear the place is packed with them. He leaned up and pushed the cab driver on the shoulder. „Make a right up here.

All the men leaned against each other as the cab turned into the street.

Be Straight held on tight to the door. „Man these fuckin‘ cabbies drive with little or no fuckin‘ regard for the safety of the world, as we know it. He leaned forward and shook his head. „Huh, man I Be Straight.

„That‘s it up there," T.K. nudged the cabbie. The cab came to a screeching stop.

All the men piled out of the cab and stood in front of the bar.

T.K. was paying the cabbie when Puggy and Kreech together looked up at the marquee. They looked at each other, then smiling, they turned to T.K. „Legion of Honor." They laughed.

„Hey, T.K. said as he turned toward them. „What do you expect in a town that was occupied by the French for almost one hundred years? I‘m just surprised that after they ran them out, they kept the same name. I guess you could think of it as the Vietnamese Legion of Honor. T.K.

walked over and put his arms around his friends, and in a low voice he said, „instead of the French Foreign Legion of Honor."

They all laughed and walked inside.

They stood in the doorway, looking the place over.

It was like something out of a Humphrey Bogart movie. The stairs led down a few steps into a smoke filled room. There were tables between the door and bar, which was against the back wall. They were simple wooden tables sitting on a plain wooden floor. The bar was very plain in a room that was gray in its entire presence, almost as if the whole scene was a black and white movie.

There were Vietnamese women setting at the tables with men, some dressed in suits, some in military uniforms; but mostly civilians, and all were Americans.

T.K. turned to his friends. „Come on men, let‘s go."

They walked to the bottom of the stairs and over to the bar.

The bartender greeted them with a smile. „What can I get for you gentlemen?"

T.K. looked at his friends. He had a funny feeling about the place. As he looked around he felt something strange about the atmosphere. It was different than all the other bars he had gone to while he was in Saigon. He couldn‘t put his finger on it, but there was something definitely different about this place.

„What can I get for you, Sergeant?" the bartender asked.

„Oh ah, a Cutty over," T.K. said.

„And you, sir, what can I get for you?" asked the bartender as he looked at Puggy.

Puggy put his arm on the bar and looked over the place real slow. Puggy was a southern boy, a little heavier than the others, but strong as a bull and tough. He was the kind of man you‘d like to have in your corner if you had a little trouble. They were all Special Forces but Puggy was ‚the crazy one‘ of the group. He turned back to the bartender, „I‘ll take a tall rum and Coke, he said, using his fingers to show the bartender a tall glass. „A tall one, he said.

„Fine, and you, sir." The bartender looked at Kreech.

Kreech was the quiet one from Cleveland. Very Midwestern. The

type that blended into the crowd. Sometimes it was he who, after a hard night of drinking, would get the guys together and into a cab and back to base. The levelheaded type.

Yeah, right ah, I’ll have ah V0. and Coke. Kreech just looked around then nudged up to the bar. And make it a light one, ya know.

Yes, sir. The bartender continued to place napkins on the bar. And you, sir, he asked looking at Speed.

Speed was the nervous one. His eyes were constantly moving, checking things out, looking around to see how things were. Speed was from New York. He was a New York kind of guy, Speed was.

He looked up and down the bar, turned and looked around the room, then leaned in toward the barkeep, Come’er, he motioned. Then looking back up and down the bar again, Come’er. Give me a—ah, shot of Jack Black and a cold, cold beer back. You got it, you got it?

Yes, sir, said the bartender, as he now looked over at Be Straight.

And yours, sir, will be?

Be Straight shrugged his shoulders as he moved in toward the bar. Using both hands, he pulled his pants up while doing the ‘Mo Town’ shuffle.

Be Straight was from Detroit and spent all his time imitating James Brown. As he referred to him, His main man, the man of soul, James ‘Be Straight’ Brown.

Holding his hands together, as if he were praying, he told the bartender, Give me a Seven and Seven, okay?… And be fast.

Yes, sir, the bartender said as he moved over to Stretch.

And yours, sir.

Stretch was from San Francisco and money. His was a story in itself. Spoiled, and rich. Stretch joined the army to rebel against his family’s wishes that he become a doctor, lawyer, or something respectful.

Stretch was a beer drinker, and a drinker he was. He was the one that would go all night long.

The bartender asked again, And yours, sir?

A cold one, Stretch said.

What kind, sir? the bartender asked.

Wet, Stretch replied.

With that, the bartender started grabbing glasses from the back shelf.

Welcome to the Legion of Honor gentlemen, a voice from behind them said.

They all turned around as if on queue.

Standing in the dim light of the bar was a tall Vietnamese woman with long, straight, black hair. She was wearing a long, tight, black silk dress with slits up both sides that ran from the floor all the way up to her thighs. It had a high collar that opened below her chin and extended down, exposing the cleavage of her breasts. She was light skinned with Caucasian features. Her eyes were dark with a slight hint of Asian blood line.

She stood in front of the men, whose mouths were open wide as they looked at her.

And what brings you gentlemen to my humble establishment? she asked.

T.K. extended his hand out to her, I’ve heard nothing but good things about your. establishment, he said. My friends and I thought it would be a pleasure to visit your. Legion of Honor, he said.

Holding her hand, he stepped up closer to her, Thomas Kirkland, T.K. to my friends. And now that I’ve had the pleasure of meeting, he stopped and stared at her again.

Michele, Michele Bover’e, she said.

T.K. stepped closer, putting his other hand on hers, And now that I’ve had that pleasure of meeting Michele—Michele Bover’e—I can say this is a fine establishment to visit, the Legion of Honor, he said smiling.

Something snapped quickly between T.K. and Michele.

The two of them became close instantly. As if there were no one else in the room, they headed off to a table to be alone.

As they walked away, Michele turned to the bartender and instructed him to get ‘chore girls’ for mister T.K.’s friends. Then, they made their way to a table in the corner where they sat and talked over a bottle of wine

Strange feeling I had when we met, T.K. said, as he stared at Michele.

It’s almost as if I’ve known you for, for years. It sounded like a silly

line.

Yes, it is strange Thomas, Michele smiled and thought for a mo-

ment about what he said. «I could feel the same thing.»

T.K. leaned closer to Michele, «It seems that I’ve known you for all this time so, I guess I should know something about you, huh. And this place, do you work here or. what?»

Michele laughed.

«No, no, Thomas. The Legion of Honor is mine.»

T.K. looked around.

«How could you. you’re so young to own a business like this, I mean.»

«My father started the business, Thomas,» she said before he could finish. Then she leaned forward and looked at T.K. «He was a French colonist who settled here in the thirties. My mother. she worked for him here at the Legion, they fell in love here and were very, very happy together.»

«Where are they now?» T.K. asked. «Your parents.»

«They were killed when the French were driven out of my country.»

«I’m sorry,» said T.K.

«They were so in love,» Michele smiled.

«How did it happen?» T.K. held Michele’s hand. «You don’t have to tell me if it makes you feel uncomfortable, I just wanted to know you, and what you’re about, that’s all.»

«It’s all right, Thomas, it doesn’t bother me to talk about it.»

She stared into her glass of wine.

«It was a terrible time for my country. The Japanese had been defeated and the French administration in Saigon was crumbling,» Michele sat back in her chair, holding her glass between her hands as she continued.

«The city was in chaos. I was only a young girl of seven, but I can still remember. I went to a private school with the other children of the French colonists, but mother and father kept me out of school because of the tension in the city and the Binh Xuyen terrorists, who were roaming the streets. « She moved up to the table and took a sip of her wine, then sat the glass on the table.

«They would take me to my mother’s sister, Auntie Lin Su, and I would spend the night with her when they went into the city to run The

Legion of Honor. Auntie Lin Su would drop me off in the morning and I would spend the day with mother and father.» Michele smiled at T.K.

They were much in love, Thomas. My father moved here not long before the war with his brother Jean, who served in the French Foreign Legion as a Lieutenant.

It was they who started this establishment together. My mother came in for a job the day my father opened the business and they fell in love that moment. Their love for each other grew more as every day went by.

T.K. sat up to the table and said, Tell me more.

We lived in Cit’e H’erault, which is just outside of Saigon. Auntie Lin Su had pulled up to the house and I jumped out of the car looking for mother and father. They were always waiting for me at the door when I arrived with Auntie Lin Su. But this particular morning they were not there. I ran through the house calling out ‘mommy, daddy, I’m home. let’s play! ‘ I ran up the stairs to their room to see if they were still in bed. Auntie Lin Su came into the house calling to me, ‘Michele, come, come to Auntie Lin Su.’ ‘No,’ I said, ‘I have to see if mommy and daddy are still in bed,’ and I ran into their room.

T.K. looked into Michele’s eyes and could see her sadness as she continued.

Michele rolled the wineglass between the palms of her hands as she looked into it and spoke. "The Binh Xuyen had broken into the house and dragged them from their bed. My father lay against the wall with blood all over him and on the wall. My mother’s beaten body lay just a few feet from him with her hand stretched out to his. As I stood over them, tears fell from my eyes, Thomas. I knew that my mother wanted to hold his hand, so I leaned down to them and put both their hands in mine. As I pulled their hands together, Auntie Lin Su came into the room. She pulled me to her and we cried together.»

Michele looked at T.K. My country has been torn apart with war for one hundred years, Thomas. First it was the French, then the Japanese, then the French again. Now you, Thomas, and what will you do to us?

T.K. reached over the table and held her hand in his.

I am your friend, Michele, he said. I am a man, and not my government. I am not here to hurt you, only to help your people.

T.K. pulled Michele’s hand to his face and kissed it. „I have a feeling we‘re going to be friends, Michele, close friends."

T.K. looked past Michele to a door near the end of the bar. In French it said Private and, over the top of the door it said Satan’s Fifth Wave.

What is that there? he asked.

Where? asked Michele.

The door at the end of the bar that says ‘Private’.

It is what it says, Thomas, ‘Private’, she said.

I mean, ‘ Satan’s Fifth Wave ‘.

It is what it says, Thomas, ‘Private’, she smiled at him. Maybe I can let you know, Thomas, after we become as you say, close friends.

Sarge, from across the room, Speed called.

You guys going to stay over there all night? Come on over and have a drink with us before we have to leave and get back to base.

The next morning T.K. was called in for a briefing with his commander, Captain Robert Cottingham.

He walked up to the door and knocked.

Come in.

T.K. opened the door and walked in.

Captain Cottingham was standing across the room looking over a map hanging on the wall. He turned and looked at T.K., as he closed the door, and stood at attention.

At ease, Sergeant.

Captain Cottingham walked over to his desk and picked up some papers.

Come over here, T.K., he motioned, holding the papers in his hand.

T.K., you’re to be at the airfield at Tan Son Nhut tomorrow at 0600 hours.

I want you to take your group with you, he said and walked back over to the map.

Come over here.

Picking up a pointer, Captain Cottingham pointed to the map.

"T.K., you and the group will leave from Tan Son Nhut by helicopter

and be dropped off about 15 klicks from here." The captain pointed to a spot near Vinh Long.

We have word that there’s some kind of troop movement going on a little west of this point here.

Captain Cottingham turned to T.K. „I want you and the group to find out what‘s up there. I‘ll give you three days to get back to the drop off point for pick up. Your code name will be ‚Metro‘. You count the population up there and let me know what it is, okay, Sergeant?"

„Yes, sir," T.K. saluted, turned and walked out.

As T.K. walked up the steps to the barracks he could hear James Brown music in the distance. He made his way down the hallway and turned into the barracks.

Be Straight had just completed a split and was jumping back to his feet.

„Gather around men. I got a story to tell you," T.K. said, as he pushed the door to his room open. He took his hat off and threw it on his bed, turned, and walked back to the doorway.

Puggy, Speed, Stretch, Kreech, and Be Straight all stood waiting for

T.K.

„Gentlemen we have a mission," he said as he stood in the doorway.

„What is it, Sarge?" asked Puggy.

„The captain has given us a RECON mission, gentlemen. He believes there‘s some troop movement up the Mekong."

Kreech turned to Speed, then looked at T.K. „Never heard of any movement up there before, sir."

„Puggy and Stretch, you hold down the fort."

T.K. turned and looked at the other men.

„Be Straight, Speed, and Kreech, we leave at 0500 hours for Tan Son Nhut."

„We catch a ride with the Ridge Runner Boys from Tan Son Nhut, up the Delta to the drop off point about 15 klicks from Vinh Long. We‘ve got three days to complete our mission and get back to our pick up point to catch our ride home."

T.K. turned and started back into his room, then turned back to the men. „Typical gear, gentlemen, pistols, bandoleers of fire power and machetes. Our code name is ‚Metro‘," then he closed his door.

Be Straight jumped up in the air, fell to the ground into a split, and pulled himself up to his feet, slapped his hands together, and spun around, „Back to work men, ‚I Be Straight‘. „

They arrived at Tan Son Nhut airfield at around 0530 hours the next morning. T.K. always liked to check things out before he went on a mission. He would check out the helicopter, all the gear, and run through the mission a dozen times before they would take off.

While T.K. and Speed were looking over the map of the drop point with one of the Ridge Runner Boys who was going to fly them in, Be Straight and Kreech took a smoke break and walked over toward the hangers.

„Man, I gotta be takin a piss before we leave, said Be Straight. „Let‘s swing a turn into this hanger.

As they opened the door and started in, they were met by a tall slender man, with greasy slicked back hair and deep dark eyes.

„Can I help you men?" he said in a deep voice, as he blocked Be Straight and Kreech from entering the hanger.

Be Straight stood eye to eye with the man, pushed out his chest and said, „I gotta be takin a piss man."

„Well there‘s no heads in here my friends, the man said, as he motioned them out the door. „Around the side there‘s a mechanic‘s shop, you‘ll find one there.

As Be Straight was trying to stare the man down, Kreech noticed some men loading unmarked boxes into a small two engine plane in the middle of the hanger.

„What do ya mean they ain‘t no head in here man, hangers always got heads in ‘um," said Be Straight, as he stared into the strange man‘s eyes.

„I said, there is no head in here, around the corner," the man repeated.

Kreech grabbed Be Straight‘s arm. „Yeah, I think I saw it next to the hanger, Straight I think I know where it‘s at." He tugged on Be Straight‘s arm.

„I think I‘ll pull my ‚thang‘ out he‘ah and take my piss right now, man," said Be Straight.

The man took a step back, but continued staring at Be Straight.

„Come on, I know where it‘s at Straight, said Kreech as he pulled Be Straight toward the door. „Come on, let‘s go. It‘s about time to leave.

Be Straight nodded his head up and down, as he walked backwards, continuing to stare at the stranger, „Okay man, okay, I Be Straight."

As he walked through the door backwards, he held his hand up waist high, pointing his finger at the man letting his thumb down slowly, „Powww…, I Be Straight," he said as the door closed.

„Fuckin‘ faggot," he said, as he turned to Kreech.

„No. CIA," said Kreech.

„Still a faggot," said Be Straight.

They turned and started walking.

„No. CIA. and sneaky, said Kreech. „They operate out of this airfield.

„I talked to one of the guys back at base about them one time. He said they fly secret missions from here. Something about supplying arms to the Viet Cong guerrillas up in the high jungle along the Cambodian and Laotian borders."

They reached the mechanic‘s shop, and Be Straight opened the door and started to walk in, then turned back to Kreech, „CIA or not, he still be a faggot."

Kreech shook his head and laughed, then looked at his watch, „Hurry up. It‘s almost 0600 and T.K. will be looking for us."

„It be time to go to work, Be Straight said. „But I gotta be takin a piss first. Then he grabbed his crotch. „Ya know, I sure would hate to have to hang this pretty thang out the chopper as we fly over the air field, ya know, somebody just might step on it. Ha, ha, ha." His hand still on his crotch, he moved it up and down as he closed the door.

T.K. checked his watch, as he looked toward the hanger and saw Kreech and Be Straight walking toward the helicopter.

He threw his backpack into the helicopter, then checked his weapon one more time.

Kreech, Speed, and Be Straight threw there gear in the helicopter.

Kreech looked at T.K., „Ready, sir."

„Let‘s blast off, gentlemen," T.K. said. Then they all jumped in to the chopper.

The Ridge Runner Boys got their name because they flew so close to the treetops in the jungle, some of which were over one hundred feet high. While fling up the Mekong, you wouldn‘t fly over the river itself, because it was to clear a shot for someone. So you would fly close to the treetops, about a hundred yards in from the rivers edge.

Kreech looked out at the heavy bush, then turned to Be Straight. „Hey Straight, he said. „You know, if you hung that ‚thang‘ out over here, I‘d bet not a drop would hit the ground.

Be Straight looked out the side

„Yeah, Sarge, maybe we should give the old Air Force boys a call, Be Straight said. „Maybe we could get them to spray the jungle with some of the orange stuff, then we could just walk to the drop off point. Ha, ha, ha.

Kreech and Be Straight sat down and continued to B S. After a few minutes, they drifted off into silence.

T.K. stared out at the jungle, as they made their way to the drop off point.

„You know, he said, as he looked out at the trees, „I started out in this man‘s army when I was a kid right out of high school in 1948. It was right after the big one and I thought I‘d slip right into a easy job with the army, get my twenty in, retire, and buy a little bar back home in Baltimore, he smiled. „Then before I knew it, boom, Korea, a police action they called it, I‘ll call it a war. I worked in supplies, but I saw a little action. And I‘ll tell you, Korea was a vast treeless region, and we could see what the fuck we were fighting."

„But here in Nam, it‘s mostly jungle and you can‘t see shit, and it‘s three times bigger too, with a thousand fuckin‘ villages." He shook his head, as he continued to look out over the trees.

Then he spoke quietly to himself, „I don‘t know what the fuck we‘re doing here, and I don‘t know if we‘re prepared to fight this kind of fuckin‘ war."

„What you say, Sarge?" asked Speed.

T.K.