I left Butch’s trailer and headed back toward San Clemente, but not before stopping back at Straight Ahead just to see if Paul might have showed up since I’d been spending time with Butch. The place was open like it always was, but Paul was nowhere to be seen. I’d known he likely wasn’t there because his car wasn’t parked out front, but I’d already decided to contact him. I sat at his desk and, searched around until I found a blank piece of copy paper to write a note. My message was simple since all I wanted was at least one more opportunity to talk to the man who’d been so helpful to me in so many ways. I didn’t know when I’d be leaving and it was important to at least say goodbye if not discuss other things a little bit more. Butch was a great counselor but he was hard-core tough, not classically educated in psychology nor as objective as he might be for the job of being my therapist. I scribbled out the note to have him call me and folded it up. There was no envelope so I simply let the paper lay in the center of the desk.
“Who are you?” A female voice said from the doorway.
I nearly jumped back from the desk in surprise. I wasn’t used to being encountered by anyone at the facility, much less encountered in a position behind the desk of a man who’d given no approval for my presence in his office alone, much less sitting behind his desk.
“Who are you?” I asked, pulling back from the desk to the point where my butt bumped into the windowsill, the young woman’s radiant beauty setting me a bit aback.
“You’re looking for Doctor “P,” I presume?” she asked, standing with her arms folded across her chest.
I gauged her to be in her early twenties, which meant she wasn’t likely one of the rehabilitation staff.
I nodded and waited, arms at my sides, hoping she’d stand aside from the doorway so I could exit the place.
“You’re that Vietnam guy, aren’t you?” the girl said, the sentence left hanging in the air, no answer from me seemingly required.
“You’re his girlfriend,” I replied, making a leap in logic that I knew might be way out of line or simply wrong.
“Fiancée,” she replied.
The not too subtle of Paul’s threesome request to Mary blossomed into the forefront of my mind. I didn’t know what to say so I said nothing at all.
“He’s not here today so I’m kind of standing in,” she finally said into the uncomfortable silence that separated us.
“You’re a psychologist too?” I asked, just to have something to say that might not come out wrong.
“No, just a babysitter. Most of the kids who go through here don’t have any family or friends, so we’re it.”
“Know when he’s coming in?” I asked, hoping she’d step away from blocking the door and let me leave graciously but quickly.
“You will be gone tomorrow but he’ll be back the day after all day, and not much is going on right now,” she replied, finally stepping inside the office and away from the door.
I walked past her without examining her further. The last thing I wanted or needed was any kind of reference about my wife or what Paul’s fiancée might have been informed regarding the occurrence. I turned back at the door to smile and indicate that it was a pleasure to have met her.
She didn’t respond, merely smiling while waiting for me to leave.
Once I got to the parking lot I crawled into the front seat of the VW and sat for a couple of minutes before leaving. The encounter had been unexpected and somehow a bit disconcerting. I hadn’t made a final decision about Paul. However, I was coming to see that there was a totality of the man that had to be considered, not just his professional training and presentation as a therapist. The woman was real, the invitation he’d extended to Mary was real, but I hadn’t internalized that, I finally realized, until I’d met his fiancée, and I’d been so off-kilter I didn’t know her name as I hadn’t bothered to ask.
When I got home, Mary’s Caprice was parked in the driveway. Her trips to the beach had been severely curtailed with the coming of tiny Michael. The baby was way too young for a beach visit. The effects of the sun and blowing sand would be more than enough to cause him great discomfort if not physical damage.
The other car in the driveway was a silver Mercedes. Richard’s car, as he was the only one I’d seen since arriving in San Clemente who drove that exact model, year, and colored Mercedes. I pulled around and parked on the street in front of the house. When I got out I noted that Bozo was not inside the house, where he usually resided but instead sitting on the ledge that ran across the exterior front wall extending out about eight inches. He watched me closely. I said hello but he said nothing as I passed, but his expression said a lot.
“Take the pebbles from my paw, grasshopper,” was what it appeared he would have said if he had the power of speech. I smiled to myself and went inside, wondering what Richard might want.
Mary was sitting on the couch, Julie was in my wing chair with Mrs. Beasley and Richard was crouched on the small flat step leading out from the fireplace, which had never seen a fire inside its confines.
“Richard says you’re headed for Albuquerque on a special flight tomorrow morning to spend the day. Isn’t that right Richard?”
My wife’s voice had taken on a tone I hadn’t heard in some time. The poisoned sweetness when she formed and delivered her words was likely only evident to me.
“I haven’t heard a word about it, or I’d have called,” I said. “Richard, can we step outside for a bit? The baby’s only days old and I don’t want to wake him.”
“Normally, I’d say no,” Mary unaccountably replied, “but, in this case, maybe I think it’s a good idea.” She turned her face and looked directly into my eyes. The poison aimed at Richard was rapidly moving toward me.
I got up and walked back through the front door the screen slamming slightly behind me.
Richard followed me. I heard my wife get up, in her postpartum slow way, and begin to work her way up the stairs that stuck out of the southern wall of the house and allowed for access to the upper story.
“What the hell’s going on?” I asked, my voice pitched low and my tone making it nearly a whisper.
“You have to sign the papers on the house and there are some issues Herbert said you’d have to take care of to make the deal work.”
“Why didn’t you just sit down the street and wait for me to arrive instead of encountering her in there?” I asked.
“Sorry, you’re right. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Here’s something else you weren’t thinking,” I said, my tone changing from one of frustrated anger to one more analytical contemplative. “How is it that Paul’s fiancée knew, when I met her not more than an hour ago, that I was going to be gone tomorrow but return the following day?”
“I have no idea,” Richard replied, shocking surprise in his tone. “I don’t know her, but I do know that the agency is very thorough, and they have to be looking into your back and foreground very intensely right now. Paul is that therapist which means you must tell him things. The girlfriend is an unknown.”
I moved to the curb and leaned against the hot rear fender of the Volks. Richard called Paul’s fiancée his girlfriend, but I’d said she was Paul’s fiancée. It was a seemingly small point but a ‘tell’ as far as I was concerned. I wasn’t going to get anything out of Richard that didn’t come out by accident. I felt like I was in the middle of a board game but didn’t know any of the rules or how to make any kind of informed moves that wouldn’t harm me or cause me to lose.
“You’re headed for Albuquerque on a new C-130 H model, making a test flight,” Richard intoned. “I wish I was going on that thing. You should be ready to go at six a.m. sharp tomorrow morning. I’ll pick you up and drop you at El Toro. You do what you have to during the day there and the flight returns with you on it back here at about seven in the evening. I’ll be there to get you and bring you home.”
“Why aren’t I taking my car?” I asked.
“Don’t know, just what I was ordered to do.”
“What do I take for the trip, or do you know?” I asked, sounding sarcastic.
“Your Polaroid camera, so Mary will know you took it along, that and your .45 Colt.”
Once more I was left with a slight sense of shock. I wanted to ask whatever would I need the .45 for if I was untrained and going to sign house non-existent ownership papers and also why Mary would need to know I took one of the Polaroid cameras with me, but I decided not to waste my time, nor let Richard know that I knew damn near nothing about anything, not that he hadn’t guessed that a good number of times already.
Richard took off and I went back inside the house to try to explain the grand assortment of lies to a woman who was like a living lie detector.
The morning came fast after a very quiet night. Mary purported to buy the story hook, line, and sinker but I knew better. The quiet after the explanations was more like the quiet before the storm. Only one thing she said before falling asleep stuck with me as valid. She wanted her own house and if this was how we were going to get it she was all in.
Richard showed up on time, as I waited outside at the curb. I hadn’t even made coffee and I wanted as little disturbance in the house before my leaving.
The drive to El Toro was without incident and Richard was entertaining to talk to as long as we weren’t talking shop. The plane was there, bright and shiny with no paint covering it. I left Richard and boarded. The plane took off without any strangeness, other than that on a plane that could carry over 20 tons of cargo I was the only person or thing aboard except for the flight crew.
I quickly discovered that flying aboard an Air Force transport plane wasn’t comfortable, or even adventurous. I sat in a metal framed bed of cross-thatched nylon straps on the right side of the cave-like interior of the C-130H. The plane was brand new, or so both Richard and the crew said, which didn’t make me feel any better when it took off and banked so steeply out of El Toro that unless I was strapped to the hull of the interior I would have fallen straight to the other side. I regretted not simply dipping into our reserve of cash and not taking Herbert’s recommendation to ‘let the government foot the bill’ for my flight. I also wasn’t forgetting that Richard also mentioned that the flight was a ‘test flight,’ whatever that might mean. What would the flight be testing, other than me?
Recalling my time back in the valley, I carefully tore and twisted two pieces of a napkin I’d put in my pocket in case I had to blow my nose once I found out that there would be no services aboard. The plane was so new it hadn’t been properly outfitted with a commode or any other amenities but it was quick. At four hundred miles per hour cruising speed Albuquerque was only a two-hour flight, slower than commercial jets but no airport nonsense, loading, waiting or even parking at either airport saved hours and money. I stuffed the tissue into both ear canals and relaxed a little bit but there would be no dozing off. The C-130 model was so new that it scared me. I wanted nothing to do with riding on experimental aircraft of any kind. I’d been close enough to death too many times to push the outer edge of the envelope any further than I had to.
The plane was to fly into Kirtland AFB, where I would deplane and ride in a Jeep to the 4416 address, look it over, take some photos, and then bring those back to my wife with the ‘deal’ Herbert had made with the agency for me. How I was to ‘sell’ the place to my wife, sight unseen was my problem. Butch’s advice was solid though. I knew I’d think of something. My understanding was that the crew of the C-130 would fuel up and wait for my return, hopefully flying out into the night to make it back to El Toro before midnight of the same day.
“What’s the crew going to think?” I asked Herbert, but he just laughed. “Like they care. You’re a means to an end for them, nothing more. They get the hours they need to qualify and gain rank. What or who you are are two things they not only won’t know but they won’t want to know. Real life for people like us isn’t like the movies, and none of the players either. Get used to it. You’re a Marine Captain, like your I.D. says, so use it. Make up whatever story you want but make it boring. Nobody cares much about a low-level new officer finding a low-priced home to live in while working on the giant airbase.
‘I can’t go around in a governmental Jeep looking at homes,” I said, shaking my head over what seemed like an amateur solution to my problems.
“Tom Hansen is the realtor who’ll be stationed at the house waiting for you. Ride in his car and use his advice. He’s not one of us but what he is is close enough.”
The Jeep was waiting when the cavernous rear of the transport dropped slowly down to the tarmac. I stumbled down, the grating rougher than it looked and the steepness of the descent also greater than I expected. I had to jump down the two feet of space between the end of the ramp and the hard concrete. Nobody was there or anywhere around except for the driver, and he was dressed in civilian attire making it impossible to gauge or guess his rank. I tossed my bag in the back and got into the passenger seat. He nodded but said nothing as we took off. Since he didn’t ask I assumed he knew where we were going. Minutes later the Jeep cruised through the gate, there were no barriers for exiting vehicles, and we turned south, heading up a street called Juan Tabo. I’d taken Spanish in high school, so I knew the “J” was silent or nearly so. Tabo I had no idea about although.
I was rapidly trying to get used to the fact that I was going to have to become a little more conversant in Spanish to accommodate the linguistics of the area. As the Jeep made its way up into the foothills of the lower part of the huge mountain range blocking the southern exposure of the city, the street names became more English sounding. Tramway, Montgomery, and finally Magnolia.
The Jeep stopped in front of a brand-new white house, Spanish in design, with no yard around it to speak of, except spots of rough gravel and obvious detritus from its just completed construction. The open Jeep, constantly moving, had been no place to have a discussion, although the driver didn’t seem to be the conversational type anyway. I grabbed my bag and hopped out of the vehicle, intending to thank the man but there was no need as he instantly accelerated away.
I walked up the driveway, past a brand-new blue and white two-door Blazer. It looked like the perfect new tough little vehicle for the cute little house. I liked both immediately. I wondered why there was a for sale sign in the front yard since the CIA purportedly already owned it, but ignored the strangeness of that and stepped through the right open door of the double door arrangement that served as the main entrance.
I realized, by surprise, that I was a bit out of breath from the short walk and then traversing up the driveway, even though the incline wasn’t that steep. I stood at the door, setting my bag down just inside, as an affable, aging male walked toward me with his right hand out and a big smile on his face.
“Hi, Captain it’s good to finally meet you. I’m Tom Hansen with the Vaughn company, here to show you the house, see what you think, and then do whatever has to be done.”
I shook his hand; his warm welcome made me feel good even though I knew the man had to be an actor sent in by the agency since he was acting like the place was still for sale and I was there to decide between buying it or not.
Tom moved to close the door behind me, locking the deadbolt after he did.
There would be no other prospective buyers coming in, I knew, adding another bit of confirmation about the fixed nature of the ‘sale.’
“I’m not really a captain,” I said, sorry the moment the words left my mouth as Tom’s smile evaporated so quickly it seemed it had never been there.
“You haven’t been through training, have you, so let me help,” Tom said, his voice flat, level, and a bit hard. “The world is our stage, and you have a role to play. No matter what the situation you play the role and never drop from it. Sometimes the only success is gained because of a continued and fully applied inertia. We keep on going. So, you are every bit a Marine captain in civilian attire, and I am a Vaughn company realtor in the top tier of sales success. There’s no furnishing in here so let’s sit on the step leading down into the living room here.”
He turned and walked the short distance across a few feet covered with Mexican Talavera tiles. They were polished and beautiful and clean. The whole house was so clean it could have passed for an operating room in some local hospital. How that could be, given the mess the yard was in I didn’t know, or care.
“What’s the plan as Tony indicated you might have one.”
I laid out Butch’s plan to Tom, indicating that the only reason I was there was to gain my wife’s acceptance of the house as being something she could not only live in, and accommodate but also something she would choose, in fact, had to choose or nothing about the move was going to work, not in the timeline that was developing for my entry into the service.
“Okay,” Tom replied, “I love this plan. We’ll head out and take shots with my Polaroid of really mediocre places to compare, then put those together with a few of this terrific house. We can always lower the price to beat out the other places if we feel like it since the CIA will be paying itself anyway.”
I realized why Richard had told me to bring the camera. How did he know the plan, though, and then give Tom a heads up because there was no way Tom wasn’t ready to go, even before I walked through the door.
I threw my bag into the back seat and then got into Tom’s car and traveled about the upper reaches of Albuquerque with Tom snapping shots in open houses while I worked on memorizing the streets and neighborhoods of a city that was sort of pasted together like a bad stamp collection. A mix of Mexican and other cultures with the Caucasian population being in the minority, not only in number but in cultural expression. The camera was explained for my needs but the .45 was another matter entirely. Once before I’d been given another .45 to hold until it might be needed, and that need had never been explained much less called for, at least so far. Like working for the Western White House, it seemed that the CIA played a long ball kind of game and not simply one of reacting to what others were doing or saying.
We got back to the house and Tom worked at taking some shots of the interior and the exterior, carefully avoiding getting any of the mess of all the yard areas in any of the shots.
Sadie’s Bowling Alley was where Tom took me for lunch before heading back to Kirtland, as he wanted to introduce me to green chili and southwestern food and cooking. My brain was spinning with all that I was learning and with how wonderfully Tom had taken over the project.
As we sat down, he instructed me about how I should handle the situation with my wife.
“You have her call me and I’ll walk her through,” he said, taking a fork full of green chili tamale into his ever-smiling mouth.
I did the same but the results weren’t the same. My mouth almost expelled the food but could not because I’d already swallowed the forkful. I began to perspire. The food was a wonder of taste but so hot I had to keep drinking a couple of swigs of ice water after each bite. I both loved and hated the stuff and told Tom so. Tom took note.
“You’ll overcome the hatred and be consumed by the love of this stuff but it’ll take some time.”
“What’s the test part of the C-130 H cargo plane they flew me in on. I’m a bit worried about stepping back aboard that thing.”
“I’m not a flier at all, but I pay attention to rumors about what’s going on at that base. That new plane has very powerful turboprop engines and they apparently twist those big new propellers at near impossible-to-describe speeds.”
“Okay,” I responded, but said the word more as a question than a statement.
Tom ate some more green chili fire food but I’d had my fill. I knew, with my reconstructed lower end that I’d pay dearly for eating any of the stuff at all and the C-130 had no bathroom.
“What about the propellers?” I asked since Tom gave no indication he was going to go on.
“They probably need to make a top-speed high rotation run over a long distance to make sure the propellers don’t break up and fall off, and maybe they want to do that over the desert in case they have to come down without any power at all.”
“Jesus Christ,” I said, as Tom reached I-25 in his Blazer. From the Rio Grande to the Air Force Base was only minutes away.
“I wonder why you’re aboard that flight if it’s a test pilot kind of thing. What could go wrong that you might fix and what tools would you have to do it anyway?”
I looked over at Tom, as the Blazer accelerated toward the airport. I carried only one tool, other than the Polaroid, but I couldn’t tell Tom about that.
James, Mostly punctuation editing suggestions. Yes, a C-130 is a neat plane for transporting military cargo or jumpers. No, it is not flown like an airliner. If the aircrew is cool then all is OK.
So far, so good in executing the plan to win Mary’s approval. We shall see.
Tom seems a good asset to know. We shall see if your paths cross again.
Some minor editing suggestions follow:
found a blank piece of copy paper and wrote a note
Works as is but could change “and wrote” to “to write”
found a blank piece of copy paper to write a note
nor as objective a he might be for the job
“as” instead of “a” after “objective”
nor as objective as he might be for the job
the young woman’s radiant beauty setting me a bit aback
Add period
the young woman’s radiant beauty setting me a bit aback.
uncomfortable silence that separated us. “
Drop extra quotation mark
uncomfortable silence that separated us.
I hadn’t made a final decision about Paul, however I was coming to see
Period after “Paul”
Begin new sentence. Capitalize “However”
I hadn’t made a final decision about Paul. However I was coming to see
I smiled to myself and went inside, wondering what Richard might
wanted.
“want” instead of “wanted”
I smiled to myself and went inside, wondering what Richard might want.
to spend the day, isn’t that right Richard?”
Two sentences. Period after “day” Capitalize “Isn’t”
to spend the day. Isn’t that right Richard?”
delivered her words was likely only evident to me
Add period at end
delivered her words was likely only evident to me.
It was a seemingly small point but a ‘tell’W as far as I was concerned
“W” seems extraneous. Drop
It was a seemingly small point but a ‘tell’ as far as I was concerned
You’re headed for Albuquerque on a new C-30 H model
“C-130” rather than “C-30”
You’re headed for Albuquerque on a new C-130 H model
‘I’ll be there to get you and bring you home
Extra apostrophe before “I’ll” Drop
I’ll be there to get you and bring you home
Mary will know you took it along,” That and your .45
Period after “along” Drop quotation mark after “along”
Mary will know you took it along. That and your .45
I wanted as little disturbance in the house before my leaving,
Period instead of comma at end
I wanted as little disturbance in the house before my leaving.
on a plane that could carry about a hundred tons of cargo I was the only person or thing aboard
C-130H: 23,000 feet (7,077 meters) with 42,000 pounds (19,090 kilograms) payload.
/ Maybe change to “over twenty tons” instead of “about a hundred tons”/
on a plane that could carry over twenty tons of cargo I was the only person or thing aboard
The plane was to fly into Kirkland AFB
“Kirtland” instead of “Kirkland”
The plane was to fly into Kirtland AFB
The crew of the C-130 would fuel up and wait for my return
/In Chapter 9 there is a different crew for the return flight./
Can change that by starting the sentence with “My understanding was” or “My assumption was”
My understanding was that the crew of the C-130 would fuel up and wait for my return
Nobody cares much about a lowlevel new officer
Seems “lowlevel” should be hyphenated
Nobody cares much about a low-level new officer
Tabo I had no idea about although
Add period at end.
Tabo I had no idea about although.
a brand-new blue and white two-door blazer
Capitalize “Blazer”
a brand-new blue and white two-door Blazer
welcome made me feel good despite of the fact
Drop “of” after “despite”
welcome made me feel good despite the fact
I was there to decide between buying it
Maybe add “or not” at the end of sentence
I was there to decide between buying it or not.
There would be no other perspective buyers coming in
“prospective” rather than “perspective”
There would be no other prospective buyers coming in
Tom took me for lunch before heading us back to Kirkland
“Kirtland”
Tom took me for lunch before heading us back to Kirtland
he said, taking fork full of green chili tamale
Add “a” before “fork”
he said, taking a fork full of green chili tamale
Blessings & Be Well
Thanks for all the work going back in time to fix my own rendition!
Semper fi, my friend,
Jim
Chili Verde comment made me laugh aloud, as I had tried it once on my Daughters Birthday and all her friends were laughing at me as the sweat was rolling off my bald head !!! LOL
Very unusual to have a passenger aboard a test flight too !!??
Still don’t understand the “why” about the .45, but am sure it will be answered in short order.
Hope Mary will like the house after going through all of this.
Good read James, keep ’em coming 🙂
SEMPER Fi
They pulled no punches in building that house and Mary was quick to discover that but we’ll have more of that in the coming
chapters. Thanks for the editing help and the great comment not to mention the neat compliment.
Semper fi,
Jim
Mr. Strauss, Sir.
Just a heads up, but if I’m right, this was the second installment that has been numbered “Volume 4, Chapter VII”.
Also, every time I read where someone else knows something about your personal life – either past or future – I feel a little queasy. Paul’s fiancee had no reason that I can imagine to know that you would be gone for a day.
Keeping it all straight has been a real undertaking when one writes as much as I do.
Without Chuck Bartok and DanC I’d be totally lost, and I’m sure they’ll read this and check things
out. It’s only readers however who really offer the most accurate and telling critiques of such things
and I thank everyone on her who points things out that I miss.
Semper fi,
Jim
Personally, all I care about is the story. I understand that you want it to be right, but I don’t mind if you don’t “dot the i’s or cross the t’s”. I understand that what you have been undertaking is a huge ordeal. Heck, when I write these few lines in the comment section, I edit the thing at least two or three times. You’re doing great, please keep at it. Thank you.
You are an extraordinary reader Keith, in that you don’t care that much about the details. So many do, and also the devil can be in the details and the truth of what you may be reading verified by the very amount of the detail that may prove to be not only true but then support, like small pylons under it, the massive nature of the story’s plot and theme. Thanks for the compliment, the trust and the continued interest in following me along this twisting uncommon trail of triumph and tears…
Semper fi,
Jim
Great read, I don’t know how I would adjust to the food but it would have to be better than trying to explain to my wife why Uncle Sam picks out our house. Still don’t understand why you had to bring the .45. The .45 you are now carrying brings back memories of Tex’s .45 you carried back in the valley from hell.
Thanks for the great compliment Chuck! Hopefully, some of the things that seem so mysterious will be responded to
in the coming chapters that I can’t write here. I too was big befuddled by the need for others to have me armed
when I didn’t really want to be armed at all.
Semper fi, my friend,
Jim
Jim, Talk about having to do things ‘on the fly’ with little or no intel. But I imagine your innate ability, which was ‘added to’ & demonstrated in the A Shau somehow started the process leading up to the present. Would be interesting to know of that process – Who started it, based on what, who/how your performance was evaluated leading to the decision by the CIA to ‘take you in’, so to speak. Brought up memories of an “unknown” Army process that led me & another officer (One of my best friends.) to return from Germany to form & train a group of NCOs who would be training up RC components Round Out units on the new M1 tanks in the early 80’s – Long story. Health issues cut short that ‘process’ journey along with my time in the Army. Regardless my friend, no regrets. I also believe your having to do things/react to things ‘on the fly’ with the CIA must have been fairly consistent during your 17 years, starting with the need to have your 45 along on a trip to iron out the plan for Mary ‘picking’ out this house, etc, etc, etc. As always, regards, Doug
Doug Danko…what an analysis and how interesting, as usual. Sounds like the Abrams project was an interesting one.
Sorry it got cut short. One of the immutable facts about CIA service, for field agents, is the totally unknown aspect
of the service and almost never working with the same people. THere’s no ‘Mission Impossible’ group or any of that. There’s
no I.D. card or any of that. Just phone numbers memorized and personal I.D. number, also memorized. And on and on and on.
Semper fi, and thanks, my friend,
Jim
An edit:
“I didn’t know where I’d be leaving and it was important to at least say goodbye…”
I believe you meant to say “when” I’d be leaving, not “where”.
Thanks for the help, Tim!
Semper fi,
Jim
Jim,
Why is it that so many people you happen to bump into know so much about you (that they shouldn’t know)? It would make me real paranoid. How did it make you feel to now take so many orders from people you hardly knew, be kept in the dark on many details, go forward on blind trust–and conjure up fibs to tell your wife, and sorta pull the wool over your wife’s eyes regarding various things (like the alien object in the box you had hidden away)?
Always a treat to see a new chapter appear.
Wishing you well–in body, mind and spirit.
Best regards.
My wife guessed about the object and simply wanted it out of our lives and way far away, although it was not any kind of
regular part of our conversations. People usually know assumptions about me, back then and even today. Now, I’m.a novelist
and newspaper publisher, and have contacts that I shouldn’t be able to have. They are left with ‘how is that guy, anyway,’ unless they
are in deep trouble, in which case I’m a supreme being…until the mission is complete. My grandson once told me that I was like
a giant piece of silly putty in that I could be shaped into whatever anyone wanted me to be. I liked that.
Semper fi, and thanks for the usual great compliment of writing on here intelligently and also saying nice stuff.
Your friend, Jim
I love reading, and I love a “well-turned phrase.” This one:
“… I went back inside the house to try to explain the grand assortment of lies to a woman who was like a living lie detector…”
…is beyond epic. Well done, Jim! Keep up the great work!
Clay
Thanks Clay, I don’t really work at creating ‘well-turned phrases,’ as the writing just comes out as I go and work at recalling.
thanks for like that so much and the compliment of that.
Semper fi,
Jim
Your writing has a way of stirring up long forgotten memories. I recall a flight in a C-130 when the landing gear wouldn’t come down. We landed on a foam covered runway. Recall another instance when one went off the end of the runway. The plane lit up like a match. Only thing recognizable left was the engines.
This is a great read. Keep them coming.coming
Thanks Phil, I much appreciate your own harrowing experience with the plane. Thanks so much also
for the great compliment…and that helps me keep on keeping on with the story.
Semper fi,
Jim
awesome read
Thanks so much Donald for the laconic short but so meaningful comment.
Semper fi,
Jim
LT, great flight in a plane that can land anywhere. What’s to worry about. Now Paul and his whatever is another matter altogether. Being watched by someone who you had no idea was CIA. Interesting read.
Hope your wife likes the house ok. Probably had you carry the 45 just in case the plane when down in the desert and you needed it. Never know what lurks in the desert. Always enjoy the chapters so keep writing.
Seems like you have a pretty good take on things JT and thanks for the great compliment.
Semper fi,
Jim
Hey James!
The plot thickens, for sure! Seems as though everyone is dialed in but you. And you are getting nowhere in a heck of a hurry.
You mention that the yard is a mess, after you enter the house, when you probably should have mentioned the mess during the outside comments. What kind of mess? Construction debris, or tons of old beer bottles and weather-beaten flattened boxes?
It seems that at this point you are sure keeping to the plot.
The C-130 was and is a helluva great airplane! I flew mail, cargo, and jumpers in an old twin Beech, which at one time the military C-45, and often wished it were big like the C-130. I could only carry one ton of cargo! BTW, the C-130 at one time landed and took off from one of our Essex class carriers. No hook, but it managed to stop, then turn around, taxi to the stern, and take off. Glad I wasn’t flying it!
Difficult to wait to find out Mary’s reaction to the new house, the altitude, no ocean beach, and the often-fiery south-western food. (My reaction is much like yours!)
Waiting impatiently for the next chapter – like many great authors, you keep the reader wanting more.
Semper Fi, my friend. And not saying that lightly, as I lost my very best friend last Friday: My Service Dog of 14+ years passed. I do not make and keep friends easily, especially as I don’t get out much. So got to hang on to the few I have. House sure feels empty without her.
I am so sorry about the loss, as I know your friend must have gotten you through some very tough times.
I’m only a new friend, and not there as your service do certainly was. You are valued out here for what that might
mean but it’s all some of us can offer. Thanks for writing your own experience with the C-130 planes. Mary and
the kids losing the beach access was a big deal, you are correct. We had to go to Hawaii twice a year so they could
simply lay out in the waves and soak themselves silly!
Semper fi, my friend,
Jim
Dear Craig, I am truly sorry for the passing & loss of your best friend. Know that prayers to God & Jesus for comfort, strength & keeping the best memories front & center forever went up for you & your puppy. Additionally, prayers of keeping Satan behind you & never catching up. Like you, friends don’t come easily – I find animals, especially puppies, to be the best. I so wish they could be here longer, as they always give their best & a piece of us always goes with them when they have to leave. I look forward to seeing them all again & never having to leave (If I’m so lucky.). My most sincere regards, Doug (US Army)
How kind of you to respond to Craig Wilcox on the site, as it gives us all a chance to think about the guy and his losses
of late. It’s tough to be down without the support of a crew like this to help re-inject life back into you.
I know, as I have experienced some of that effect in starting this odyssey myself. Thanks for Craig!
Semper fi my friend,
Jim
Jim, On the 9th, had a scare with my own puppy (Brody – 14 yrs) having a seizure. 5 hours at the Vet. Was going thru the process of what was best for him vs us. Sucked to the max. Then Brody got back to his feet. So he got to come home. Still, time isn’t on our side. Still, he’s living a good life. E’nuf of this. Thanks for your comment my friend. Regards, Doug
The dog is a big deal. Big deal. Especially to someone in our circumstance and age in life.
I am not good at losing the greatest beings in my life. My cat dying damn near killed me too!
So glad you get some more time with him and he with you. Thanks for all your support and putting up with
my bizarre phone calls from time to time.
Semper fi, my friend,
Jim
Still here , I mean how could not any reader stay tuned 🙂
Charley, love having you ‘here’ wherever that may be, other than attentive to the developing
story. My pleasure to present it and then to get your own response…which was a very complimeentary one
and well received on this end.
Semper fi,
Jim
A fine lot of spooks you seem to have fallen in with.
The appearance is that you were naive as to the ease with which everything gets manipulated.
As intelligent as you are, I know that it didn’t last long, but had to be disconcerting to say the least.
Wasn’t the H model the start of the Spectre gunships? I’m sure those crews flying CAS became accustomed to those steep angles of bank.
An interesting episode despite the innocuous outward appearance.
Thank you Jim
Tim
The process of learning is very time and orientation sensitive, which is why I always enjoy encapsulating my students in classrooms
specially designed for that purpose or in field application situations where, again, the area could be prepared for the transmissiion
of knowledge and not just for the observations made in a tangential manner. Thanks for the greta comment and depending upon my
fast-accumulation life experience to survive and prosper.
Semper fi,
Jim
Does the object have anything to do with those propellers ?
Interesting question Chuck, but no, not to my knowledge. While I possessed the artifact it never gave any indication that it
might be able to ‘reach out from itself’ to effect other things around it. Thanks for the great question though.
Semper fi,
Jim
Wow, lions and tigers and bears!! Your not in Kansas any more, and you are not even sure where you are. Awesome read. Seems everyone but you knows what’s going on but you!!! The Company works in strange ways that’s for sure!! Good luck with your wife……
Semper fi sir our Captain!!
My wife should have been the CIA agent, in reality, Bob. Thanks for the greta comment and
you are very accurate in your description of how the agency really works with field people.
There’s no 007 crap anywhere involved.
Too bad, as I could have used that kind of internal image of myself.
Semper fi,
Jim
I have a tour guide that infected us in NEW Mexico “green chilies” and So Carolina rice, guaranteed a life long search…the 1911 is a mystery but but submit this is to develop religion of “always armed on a mission”?
Thanks Colonel, for the usual introspective yet externally descriptive comment.
Green chili is addictive if you eat it regularly for long enough, and I don’t know
about the rice but look forward to one day trying that.
Semper fi, my great friend,
Jim
it’s Kirtland AFB, unless you had to change it.
Yes, Tom, it is and was Kirkland, and I don’t know why it isn’t pronounced or spelled that way in my mind.
My great memory isn’t always spot on. That wasn’t a typo as I’ve done that since living near the base.
Thanks for the help.
Semper fi,
Jim
There would be no other perspective buyers
*prospective
Thank would be correct Don, and thanks for the help with this kind of vexing thing!
Semper fi,
Jim