by James Strauss |
I followed the Buck Sergeant down through the dark muddy aisle of the Da Nang Hilton. The aisle was strewn with back packs and other field equipment I could not help running into. My flight bag was tucked under the bunk, for whatever security that might provide.
by James Strauss |
4:00 a.m. slammed down like a guillotine blade; bringing Arch’s eyes open to full wideness with a jerk, his head swinging up off his pillow to stare at the now open bedroom door. The door swung back toward the frame. It had been the sound of the old solid wood slab hitting drywall