Richard and I didn’t speak again. When the staff car piloted by him arrived in the compound parking lot, the Staff Sergeant was appropriately waiting only a few feet from the outer wall doors He opened the back door to the car before I could let myself out, and then stepped over to the double doors and waited. One of the doors opened slowly. I walked the short distance through the open door, which closed immediately behind me. There were no Secret Service agents present which surprised me. The agents, when there, only spoke with one another, never to the bevy of workers, family, or visitors passing down the hall and on into the great room where Haldeman and Ehrlichman had their desks.
I walked in the only direction there was to go. The door that led through the gate to the residence was, thankfully, closed. It was already late at night so a meeting out by the pool probably would have been out of the question. On night beach patrols, no lights had ever been observed to be on outside of the residence where the pool was shoehorned between the giant rock line protecting the train tracks and the west side of the house itself.
I moved towards Haldeman’s empty chair, then looked to my left. A single man sat on the couch, which was facing me. A tendril of smoke rose by the man’s head. Henry Kissinger. A sliver of fear ran up and down my back as I slowly moved closer.
“Sitzen Sie, bitte,” Kissinger said, gesturing with the hand that held his cigarette before he put it out on the saucer, which if I recall correctly, was most likely mint tea, his favorite drink. He’d addressed me in idiomatic German. The more proper and stiffer way to invite a person to sit down in Germany would have been Sie Sitzen, bitte.
“No Secret Service?” I asked, quietly in English as I sat down while still looking around for anyone who might be in hearing range.
“I’m not a head of state,” he replied, which I didn’t truly understand then but I knew I soon would.
Only heads of state received presidential-style protection. That was interesting. Kissinger’s 1966 Lincoln Continental was fitted with bulletproof glass, but no protecting agents, or at least not Secret Service agents. I’d never seen the blue Lincoln, but the big monster of a car with an engine more powerful than that of Lieutenant Gates’ Marauder created talk among the people at or below my place on the compound totem pole.
“You did some work for me, I recall,” he said, with very little of his heavy German accent that always came through when he was being interviewed by T.V. commentators.
“You discharged me, sir,” I replied.
“It wasn’t like that at all,” he laughed. “Trust is long in the forge.” You might like a drink, to be hospitable, but there’s no one here. There’s no one to listen, no tapes being made, no recorders or anything like that.”
“Trust is long in the forge,” I said, wishing I hadn’t.
I liked nothing that I’d learned of the man. He’d deliberately extended the Vietnam War by nearly four years. How many Marines died in that time?
“You have distinguished yourself,” Kissinger responded, ignoring my cheap shot back at him.
There was no way I was going to admit anything ‘in the clear’ to this man but I didn’t have to let him know that. He was enormously brilliant, everyone said, and a gifted negotiator and an even better salesman. He’d sold the Nobel committee to the point where they gave the person whom I considered the biggest warmonger on the planet, the Nobel Peace Prize a few years back.
“You sell insurance on the side?” the man said like he was reading my mind.
He took a sip of his tea, using the same waving little finger held out as Haldeman did. Had they both gone to the same dainty classes in private schools to learn that? The same class of people also didn’t know how to make a real fist, or was that, like with the pinky thing, merely a way of belonging to a class above everyone else and having gestures that indicated what they were to others who were of them? The Masonic Order was like that, and there were probably a whole lot more of such tribal posers at the different social levels of power that were denied fiercely inside my own culture.
“Life insurance with Mass Mutual,” I replied. My General Agent, Tom Thorkelson, would love to have you as a policyholder but I don’t think I could get such a policy through underwriting.”
“Warum?” Kissinger exclaimed, putting his little cup of tea down, and staring into my eyes for the first time.
“Why?” I shot back. “Maybe because you have all that bulletproof glass in your Lincoln and no Secret Service protection?
“You have such a displeasing sense of humor,” Kissinger said, his eyes going black, clear and his stare penetrating.
I realized that I was skating on very thin ice. I breathed in and out slowly, wishing that somebody was around to serve up a glass of ice water or a Coke. My mouth had gone dry.
“Why am I sitting here with you, with no one to listen, no tapes being made, no recorders or anything like that,” I said
“Very excellent memory of the exact words I said. You will have usage, but you will need strong solid management,” he replied.
I rolled his words around in my mind, not being able to put them together to make much sense. I knew he had something in mind but for some reason, he had to be expressing his thoughts in such an arcane way that it was not understandable to me.
I looked closely at the dangerous and powerful man across from me, wondering once again how much chance contact had brought me before him. I liked the fact that no one had searched me, patted me down, or asked security questions before this interview. Kissinger had no fear of me, and that meant he didn’t know much about me or he was misinterpreting many factors in my spotty background.
I had no violent intent toward the man and I was very satisfied that he didn’t see me as a physical threat. Even with no intent, I was most definitely a physical threat to this hardened, not warrior, make-believe macho man who had killed more people than I’d ever commanded or had even thought of. I had my wife, Julie, Bozo, and my new friends, like Elwell, Bartok, Thorkelson and so many more. I wasn’t ready to surrender my new life with them to anyone, including the clever man in front of me, who wasn’t as clever as I imagined. At least I wasn’t sitting in front of him with some kind of ‘hitman’ assignment awaiting me.
“You are here because I suspect that you found something out that you should not have and now cannot rid yourself of,” he said, talking out to the empty room more than me.
I didn’t know what to say. It was another of those non-question questions that I seemed to be faced with so often, particularly since my inclusion into whatever loosely held, but tightly managed, club I’d somehow become a member of.
I said nothing, wondering just how technically superb the surveillance equipment and operators were that might allow them to know that I had the tapes and was listening to them. Why else was I here, sitting in front of a man who was one of the most powerful humans on the planet?
“What is it that you think I know?”, I asked, then holding my breath.
“And there’s the conundrum,” he replied, “I cannot tell you what it is without you finding out what you possibly don’t know. You cannot tell me because that might mean, with the importance of your special knowledge, and the keeping of it secret, might involve you leaving the planet before your time.”
There was no question that I was afraid. I looked around some more but nobody came forth from the walls, like the Mud Men on Planet Mongo in the
Flash Gordon television serial series.
I sat in front of him without replying, thinking, maybe thinking more deeply than I ever had before. They were not threatening me. That meant that I was already far down the road to being trusted by them, whoever they were. But I wasn’t about to walk away from this meeting, which the ‘greatest negotiator of all time’, until Kissinger arrived, had put together, was going to get what he wanted so badly, the request that hadn’t been stated yet, and I was to get nothing.
“Silence,” Kissinger said, filling in the silence.
“Silence,” I repeated and then waited some more.
“This whole assembly of cards is about to tumble down, not on your head but on so many others. You will be secure in that administrations will come for you in importance and honor. I can assure you that, I will likely remain rather immune to the current dire circumstance.”
“I’m not doing anything, including silence, unless I know one thing more of what you are withholding, even if you assume I already know. Consider this a test question.”
“You are in no position…” Kissinger began, but I cut him off.
“Was the ‘unseeable” not of this world, as described?” That last part of my expression was a lie.
I’d only listened to two of the six tapes I had, and neither had revealed what the ‘unseeable’ really was. I, however, had to know in my gut that it was as I suspected, or some kind of fixation I was having over what might be nothing. I’d never believed in UFOs or alien creatures, but I was still open to finding out that much of my information might have been given to me by people and organizations that had a very directed mission of my not knowing anything.
For the first time in our ‘interview,’ I observed Kissinger becoming discomforted. He moved around on the couch, and reached for what I thought was another cigarette in his suit coat pocket, but found nothing there.
“I don’t presume that you smoke,” Kissinger finally said, before rising to his feet.
He stepped toward me and then leaned over until his face was inches from my own.
I shook my head very slightly.
“Yes, to your question,” he whispered, but then added, “but it’s not at all like you might think. Over time there will be more. Silence and wait.”
With those final words, he pulled back and walked away toward the door at the end of the hall.
I didn’t know whether to stay where I was and wait for his return or leave. After a few minutes, I decided that I’d been dismissed with no words being said.
I followed Kissinger, although, by the time I reached the end of the hall, there was nothing to be seen. However, the normal contingent of two Secret Service agents stood by the doors at the other end of the hall. They let me out without comment.
Richard waited in the staff car without getting out, for some reason, when he turned his head to look at me, he was smiling broadly.
I entered through the rear door but said nothing.
“You’ve become an important person if you were meeting the person I think you were meeting,” he said, looking back at me through the vehicle’s overly large rearview mirror.
I noted that he used the word ‘person’ instead of ‘him’. Richard had no real idea of whom I was meeting with and was fishing for information to either confirm what he suspected or provide him with new data. There was no point in discussing any of it with him. I needed to get home, get showered, talk to my wife, and get some sleep, hoping that the progress of one strange event after another would at least slow down in coming at me, if not disappear.
When I got home I realized that there would be no welcoming hot shower. Mary was upset, having guessed that whomever I was meeting with under such late-night circumstances had to have something to discuss; either a critical need, some sort of threat, or even my termination from working with the people at the compound.
I sat on the couch next to Julie and Mrs. Beasley with Bozo ever on guard on his favorite side table. The television was on but I wasn’t paying attention to whatever was on. Mrs. Beasley remained uncommonly silent, Julie and Bozo watching the television or making believe they were. It was obvious that there was emotional stuff going on and I knew, even from my short experience with small children and cats, Bozo in particular, that they were magnets for anything that was emotionally out of the ordinary.
I told her about Kissinger, figuring that building another lattice of lies would only hurt me further down the road.
“The tapes and what’s possibly on them,” she said, halfway through my story. “What does he want and how does he know to ask or order you around about them?”
I didn’t have a credible answer. Trying to explain Richard’s role in the situation, or even since I’d come into contact with him just didn’t seem credible. Richard was something, very likely CIA or one of the other intelligence agencies home based in Washington D.C. but I had no real admission or proof of anything.
“I don’t know, although I now understand that they know an awful lot, most of which I don’t think they care about. This all started over the bizarre death of the three Marines, and then the even more bizarre coverup by almost everyone concerned.”
“They know your background, but they don’t know the half of it, do they?” she asked.
“What half of it are you talking about”? I asked back, in surprise.
“That those were your Marines…are your Marines. After what you went through you can’t leave them behind, even if they’re dead, but somehow, we’re probably going to have to survive all this with anything like a normal life.”
Her comment was analytically correct but her tone was accusatory, as if my conduct was serving as a threat to our family.
Julie kept watching the television without turning her head, although she pulled the string on Mrs. Beasley for the first time since I’d been home.
“He’s an honorable man,” the artificial voice said. The phrase, and her inserting it at the seemingly right moment, made me feel better. Julie was defending me. I looked over at Bozo, who was staring at Julie and Mrs. Beasley, as if to say, “I’m with them.”
“Silence was what Kissinger asked for, and I’m going to give it to him. Bob Elwell and Gularte are the only ones who know much of anything at all. There’s no need to bring the Dwarfs further into this so I’ve got to back up a bit there. Hoodoo is going to come back with the information from the coroner that the autopsy results were not competently or completely provided the first time around, and that’s going to be trouble, as there will be fear from some involved that the coverup isn’t holding up. I need to get the same silence from Bob and Jim Gularte, which I don’t think will be a problem. Hoodoo is a jaded old-time gumshoe and silencing him is going to be a bit more problematic.”
“But you’re going to do it, right?” Mary asked, her tone going from accusatory to hopeful.
“Yes,” I replied, getting to my feet, realizing for the first time that the one-way street I was heading down gave every appearance of being a dead end, with emphasis on the word dead.
“There’s one other thing I’m really worried about,” I said, deciding to share a little bit more with her.
“Bebe Rebozo is looking for Dorothy Hunt, one of the women who carries cash for whomever is running things. She and Cobb have been staying on Cobb’s boat in the marina, not far from Richard’s slip and yacht.”
“What about her?” my wife asked.
Rebozo is mob, or so rumor has it,” I replied. “If Rebozo is looking for her and not exactly keeping the information top secret, then the woman could be in real trouble. If there’s money trouble it wouldn’t likely be because of missing amounts, would be my guess. It’d be about attribution. Where the money’s coming from and such sources wanting to keep that from having anyone know. I don’t think Richard knows she’s holed up there, if she is, or if he’d reveal the information should he know it.”
“This is all such a confusing mess,” Mary replied, shaking her head.
“Do you think I should get over to the marina in the morning and warn her?”
“How can you not,” my wife said, “but are you sure you want to wait until morning? And I don’t necessarily believe you about the Marines. You could do nothing for so many of them down in that awful valley, just as you can do nothing for these men. It’s hard for me to believe that you’re going to just let it go by because of ‘the family comes first’ thinking. You are dead set on trying to help everyone you meet who’s in trouble. This may be one of those cases where that old seemingly irrational saying might apply: ‘No good deed goes unpunished.’”
“No, I don’t think anything will happen in the night and I’m exhausted.”
I got up and went to the stairs, motioning for Julie to follow. It was past her bedtime by far and putting her to bed always soothed my frayed nerves. She was simply a delight. Bozo never got involved in the ‘putting to bed’ process, always waiting until she was tucked in before he came to sleep on the very end of her bed. She didn’t ever seem to mind, always kinking her left leg and pulling up that foot so he’d have room.
In a few minutes, it was my turn to shower and go to bed. I hit the mattress and fell instantly to sleep. I got up and showered again, leaving everyone else in the apartment still down, if not asleep. I had five missions for the day ahead, all of my creation. Bob, Gularte, Hoodoo, Hunt, and beach patrol later in the early evening. With any luck, my phone wouldn’t ring, and I wouldn’t be summoned again by the fluctuating and strange leadership of the Western White House.
I put on my usual attire of shorts and a “T” shirt with running shoes I’d paid too much for but were clean although not truly broken in.
The drive to the Dana Point Marina was without incident, as it was early. I’d have preferred to visit Galloway’s place for coffee and maybe run into Mike Manning, but the mission to try to help Dorothy Hunt occupied most of my thinking.
I pulled up before Butch’s trailer and beat on the door. He answered immediately.
“Coffee” he asked, as his greeting, standing in boxer shorts, flip flops, and a ‘wife beater’ shirt.
“The ramp’s a mud mess, so you must have done some work there,” I said, stepping in.
“Army Corps of Engineers came in with two barges and steam shovel last night, not to mention about twenty workers of all kinds. They dredged the bottom taking the wreck of that car with them, and piles of mud.”
I accepted the cup of black coffee, served in what appeared to be a used paper cup. I didn’t bother to ask for cream and sugar, merely taking a couple of swigs to be sociable while I thought. The project to recover the car had been expensively put together in very little time, and although not unexpected, was worrisome. What detail were they going to find when they dug into the mess?
“You’re not here about that though, are you?” Butch replied, drinking from his own used cup and sitting on the only stool or seat in that part of the trailer.
“No,” I said, telling him the truth. “I’m here to see the women in Cobb’s boat about something.”
“Missed them,” Butch said, drinking more coffee. “Strange stuff going on here these days…and nights,” he said, shaking his head. The deadly duo took off for San Diego, and there were suitcases involved so I presume one or both are flying out, San Diego being a much better choice than LAX.”
“Richard over there?” I asked, knowing there was nothing more I could do, except maybe hang around and look too suspicious.
“Don’t know, as he rarely comes out. What do you suppose he does aboard that thing all the time? It’s equipped like one of those phony Russian trawlers. Electronic everything.”
I said my goodbye and a hearty thank you for the ‘cop’ coffee and headed toward Richard’s boat, the departure of Dorothy Hunt bothering me more than I thought it should. I wasn’t responsible for most of the people I was meeting and dealing with, but my wife was right again. I was in way too deep with many of them and would have to figure out how to retreat a bit.
I climbed aboard the yacht and knocked on Richard’s cabin door. It opened immediately.
“Been expecting you,” he said, turning and heading back to the big couch mounted into the starboard side of the hull.
I joined him on the couch, noting just how different it was to meet with this well-dressed and formal gentleman than with Butch. I decided that I liked the battered but very real Butch even more.
“The girls left?” I asked although I was about certain that Richard would have observed me visiting Butch before arriving at his door.
“Yes, and I talked to them,” Richard replied, with a wry smile on his face. “Something is going on with Dorothy Hunt so I advised her to ‘hunker down’ and wait it out, but she wanted to get with her husband in Washington just as soon as she could. There you have it.”
“What’s it all about?” I asked, not knowing what else to ask.
“The tapes,” Richard replied. You saw the mess they left at the ramp.
“Yeah, I did,” I said, uncomfortably.
“What’s on them?” Richard asked, but in a way that sounded more like he was talking to himself.
I wasn’t about to reveal anything. My mind went to the next tape I’d pulled out before going to bed. I’d left it in the box, not liking the heat-inscribed writing that was carved into the side of the reel.
“Nix Hal Ehr alternative to pardon failure.”
Had the Marines managed to see something that they should not have , a call would have been put in straight to the top at Washington DC and Henry The K would have had nothing to do or say about the outcome of the fate of said Marines . If there were two sets of autopsy reports prepared , one set for the families and the real sets showing the actual causes of death then those were sent to Washington DC never to be seen again by anyone with a need to know and your friend HooDoo would be putting himself in a very precarious situation by looking for them or even asking about them . If you think stranger things haven,t happened then stay tuned because you are in for a big surprise my friend !
Chuck, I can only write it the way I remember it, not that way it should have gone down. But if you want to come forward in time,
then riddle me why, in any custodian’s wildest imaginings, that top secret eyes only stuff could lay around so many uncontrolled spaces
and then, when discover, nobody gets arrested, hey or any of that. The real world is sure different than it is supposed to be. Merry
Christmas, my old friend,
Semper fi
Jim
What a ride. From being dropped in a hot LZ to a sit down with Henry K. Another great chapter. Anxious to see where this goes from here.
Thanks for the comment Phil. Yes, it was a wild ride…and one that would go on and on and on, as you are reading.
Merry Christmas, my friend.
Semper fi,
Jim
Merry Christmas
Thanks for the Merry Christmas. Love this time of year, not for the religious overtones so much, but because people are, in general, nicer, more
generous and cheerful.
Semper fi,
Jim
There was no question that I was afraid. I looked around so more but nobody came forth from the walls, like the Mud Men on Planet Mongo in the
Flash Gordon television serial series.
LMAO !!! Thanks for that tidbit James 😉
Great captivating read once again, keep ’em coming !!
Semper Fi, and Merry Christmas 🙂
Thank you SgtBob, and yes, I grew up with the Flash Gordon series and many of its fascinating escapes into fantasy have remained with me through life. I bought all the video cartridges later on, only to discover just how bad the reality of trying to compare that kind of cinematic work with what’s produced today really is. But some of it…delightful. Merry Christmas to you and yours, as well, and thanks for the usual great kind of comment.
Semper fi,
Jim
Thanks again LT for another great chapter! I was a kid when Vietnam was going on. We watched it on the news every night. My Dad was a Marine in Korea. He would be glued to the TV while the news was on. I’ve always knew that this kind of things went on in our government but not to this extent. I’m looking forward to the next chapter! Semper Fi!!!
Johnny, you are watching national politics play out in a very similar fashion as it did
back then. Little nobody types are playing a huge role in revealing some of that, although there
was no real national media interested in such things back in the Nixon days. I am tickled that you
like it and glad you were raised by a Marine!
Semper fi and Merry Christmas,
Jim
Jim, I probably am the only ninety six year old woman retired in a retirement home who has read thirty days to the present Cowardly Lion. Although I couldn’t read the first chapter, I have been totally in awe of your story. You have given this old lady many hours of inspiring, can’t wait to read the next chapter of your life. Thank you!
Ninety-six in a retirement home. I am indeed impressed, not just by your writing on here but the clarity and accuracy of it…not to mention the intent and compliment inherent in your words. Thank you so much. I probably don’t have a ton of female readers, no matter that age. I just hope at ninety-six that I have your kind of expressive capability and desire to keep on keeping on. As we say in the Corps Anne, uuuuhhhrahhhh! You are a class act.
Semper fi,
Jim
Which first chapter did you not read, 30 days or cowardly lion? Just curious
Interesting question, and, in fact, the same one that occurred to me when I read and then responded to Anne’s
comment. I didn’t ask her, after thinking about it because, except for my own arcane curiosity, it didn’t and doesn’t matter. That she commented at all was a huge compliment.
Thanks for your interesting comment.
Semper fi,
Jim
So much going on,and so many questions. Another great chapter Jim! The whole incident with the reactor, the 3 Marines, and the unseeable is very intriguing to say the least. I’m anxious to see how it’s resolved. I always had the same disdain for Kissinger and it was nice to see you confirm my suspicions! Nobel Prize my ass! Semper Fi Jim and please keep up the great writing!
Thanks Jack, Kissinger was ‘special’ and how he came to be considered such a great man
in his time was beyond me, at the time and of course now through the ages. But then, that
is fame and politics, or maybe just fame. Some people, by deliberation or happenstance
get to be famous…and usually live to rue the day…but that’s another story. Thanks for
the great compliment Jack.
Semper fi,
Jim
Lt, each chapter seems to go deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole! Is there no bottom to it, and it seems you have plenty of rope to reach what ever might be the bottom. It seems as you may have an unconventional ally in Mr. K. or a path out of this strange position you have been put in. Keep it coming sir, I wait with bated breath!! Semper Fi
Thanks Bob, for the great compliment and your continued support and writing on here.
Mr. K would live on through my life until I left the CIA…but our relationship was
always strained and analytically commercial. You do me a favor and I pay you a favor
back, but the return favor is always worth less, so to speak.
Thanks of rite interesting comment and writing it on here.
Semper fi,
Jim
Wow Jim, so many characters going in so many different directions, hope it all makes sense in the end.
Since were are way forward in time, ‘making sense’ becomes problematic in defining.
Let’s just say it all eventually ‘fit,’ although many times not making what you and I, or
other rational people on this site, might consider sense.
Semper fi,
Jim
Oh, boy!
Thanks for yet another eye and brain-popping chapter!
Fear.
That is what I (the reader) felt when you were meeting with Kissinger.
Admiration.
That is what I (the reader) feel toward you when I finish reading each chapter of 30 Days and of TCL.
You are a good man, with a good brain, who–when bad circumstances got dropped in your lap–tries your best to do the right thing to bring about the most positive results possible for those for whom you felt responsible for.
I agree 100% with what Col. Homan wrote about you and your abilities being the main REASON so many of your men lived and came OUT of the valley with you. Superbly stated, Homan.
I will go out on a limb and jump start the very excellent proofreader Dan C. with a minor editing observation:
“There was no question that I was afraid. I looked around so more but nobody came…”
Keep typing, keep the chapters coming so we can be further enlightened!
The Walter Duke! I keep on typing, although Chuck is mad at me because I have not yet figured out to make
two books out of Book II since were are approaching eight hundred pages and nobody on earth reads that many pages
anymore. I was with Colonel Homan for dinner last night and he was just as always. A wonderfully intelligent colonel with a terrific wife like my own. We discuss things in comments back and forth on here much more than we do in person, however. A certain distance can allow for more intimacy…so to speak. DanC makes his remarkable corrections and I flow right along, writing this minute on chapter LIX.
Thanks, as usual, my friend,
and Semper fi,
Jim
What’s Varum? Doesn’t translate
Sorry BigG, but I pronounced the word as he said and then misspelled it. Warum is why in German, not vacuum.
it’s pronounced Varum though. thanks for the interesting correction.
Semper fi,
Jim
Jim, Like I mentioned earlier, 1) the best part of that meeting was that “nobody came forth from the walls” and obviously never did. Just sayin’. 2) And to cut off Henry K.? The picture used at the top of the page that shows the various chapters – the Lion, with “The Cowardly Lion” underneath – jumped back to my mind when you cut him off and again as I finished reading this chapter. For some reason, I imagine that few ever cut Henry off. I also imagine that that should have told Henry something very important about you that he hadn’t even considered before. Know very little about lions but I think the leader of the pride will do anything and give his life for the safety of his pride, both his family and the extended pride. 3) Lastly, it seems to me that when Henry talked about the “assembly of cards is about to tumble down, not on your head but on so many others.”, but that he would “likely remain rather immune to the current dire circumstance.”, it was almost in passing, used as lead in to your future. And that Henry considered the issue of a US president being put on “trial” by a Congress that still considered the Nation above the president and the results of the same effects on the Office, the American public, our allies and enemies, etc as nothing more then a “dire circumstance”, one that will be overcome like a rather large speed bump, with little effect on those that had/have real power over the people – I find that rather sad and dangerous to the vast majority of the world’s population. Oh, I do not believe that what goes on in Congress and the halls of power is a ‘recent’ development. I believe it’s been going on at various levels since we began as a Nation and with mankind since — whenever. “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.” Humanity has been lucky that from time to time, good men and women have done something. I think that more of them will be needed in the ‘here and now’ and in the future. Regards, Doug
Wow, that’s one helluva comment, and a great compliment to the writing and telling of the story.
Thanks so much. How erudite and deep, your analysis…deeper than my own, as least my own as expressed
in the telling. The work you just put out speaks better by itself rather to any dissection I might do here.
Thanks so much Doug!!!
Semper fi,
Jim
Jim, As always, thanks for your reply. I doubt I need to tell you of their importance to your readers, but for poops and grins, I’ll do it anyways. It not only shows your dedication to your writing, but also to you readers. I’ve noticed that in all your books (The Duke, Island in the Sand, The Cat, etc). Just sayin’. Now, my “deep analysis” (Some might say ‘guessing’, ‘WTF opinion’, etc.) on these issues comes solely from your writings – directly and indirectly. I try to limit my verbosity, but alas, not always successful, resulting in some ‘tomes’. (I do try hard, using ‘contractions’ wherever possible.) Regardless, it seems to me that intentionally or not, you sometimes include something, sometimes little more than a sentence or short paragraph, you hope will cause the reader to do a bit of thinking/research/analysis on their own. They are always … ummm (The correct ‘word’ is on the tip of my tongue, so I’ll just use ‘important’.) They are always ‘important’ to the story, grab me and make me come back for a re-reading (At least once.). These are important – especially to readers born after these events as well as those living through them. It gives ‘those living …’ at least the opportunity to think about/do any research/analysis or re-analyze our understanding or lack thereof, of those events. Your writings ignite that. I and my brain hamsters thank you very much for that. Lastly, and more important, I have the benefit of time, google, etc to do ‘my’ analysis in the ‘here and now’. You, on the other hand, did ‘your’ analysis in the ‘there and then’, for your Marines, the Dwarfs, yourself and most importantly, your family. Just sayin’. And on that note, wishing you and yours a most blessed Christmas!! Regards, Doug
Thanks again, Doug, and in particular for the continuance of the in depth analysis of the work…as well the revelations of such a detailed and driven intellect behind that work. A counselor, long ago, once stunned me by telling me that I had lost my Marine outfit in combat and therefore I would reassemble such outfits sa I passed through life and each time assembled never let them go. I didn’t buy it, not for about thirty years, anyway. Here we are again, though, with another Marine outfit assembled as my readership, and I am won’t to let any of you go. Is it all that simple, the psychology of life? I don’t know. I am very happy to ‘ignite’ interest converted into actin (your writing) as we proceed. That my writing also appears to provide some sort of solace, succor and/or help to some reading it also gives me a feeling of warmth, particularly during the Christmas season, which is my favorite time of the year. Merry Christmas to you and your family my friend.
Semper fi,
Jim
And So, the old plot thickens once more ! Thank you LT, Merry Christmas
Indeed, Joe, as it would seem.
Thanks for he comment and the Merry Christmas…back at you…
Semper fi,
Jim
stuck in the mud of the bay , how to get out ?
Too true, bill, and I was hard at work trying to figure out just how that might not be accomplished.
Semper fi,
Jim
Getting tense!
Yes, H Kemp, it was a very tense time and situation, one followed by another.
Thanks for the comment and Merry Christmas.
Semper fi,
Jim
Well, seems very clear be silently. No that is too easy? so you can assume that they know everything but they couldn’t because may you listened to four tapes at home and two in your car? so you played it perfect
Richard is in the know and trusted; he seems to like you and I think asking you what was on them was “test” – tow field grade officers keeping secrets’ from the generals.
There is danger to Doris but from where? Mary gives you great advice but I think they do understand your background – not in the details Mary is talking about but in the bond all officers hare for their Marines. I am paraphrasing Nathaniel Fick BUT HE SAID ONE OF THGE REASON SHE LEFT IS THAT TO OVE UP THE RANKS YOU HAVE TO BE WILLING TO KILL OR LET YOU marines’ BE KILLED AND MOST CANNOT ACEPT THAT FOR A LEAF, EAGLE OR STAR.
But Kissinger did understand the bond and I think he used that to his advantage in dealing with you.
Sprich nicht und du gehst
WRITE FASTER
The tape machine in the car was eight track. The tapes were the small reel to real, derivatives of
the larger ones, or at least I so believe. Thanks for the usual interesting comment and the care that
comes along with it. Merry Christmas, my friend
Semper fi,
Jim
Guess Hunt is going to DC through Chicago Midway…
Wonder who Kissinger works for? Certainly a pay grade above the Administration
Glad he likes you….we might never have met!
Finally you are responsible for every Marine that got out of that Valley; if you hadn’t been who you are and not done what you accomplished 3 companies would have been lost!
Just saying….
Thank you most kindly Colonel Homan. You flew over that valley and delivered. Without guys like you the survivors and I wouldn’t be here.
Area fire, both artillery and air power we’re everything, all I did, with your help, was to apply what the Marine
Corps and Army taught me. I will die, however, before I ever lose the send of association, care and identification with Marines
in trouble and those who have died, well, they get to die without knowing that another Marine cared, but I’ll always know.
Thanks for that great compliment and great deeply thought comment as well.
Semper fi, my friend,
Jim
What a tangled web we weave!Have enjoyed your 30 Days has September and Cowardly Lion books. Enjoying the knowledge you are giving that has been hidden for so many years. Appreciate your gift of memory. I know some others with like minds. I tend to grasp technical data but miss some of the minor details that often come back to be the more important things to take away. I watched Vietnam on my parents tv wondering if I would have to go as some of my cousins and friends families were affected. Keep up the good work.
Thanks David, it’s nice to be so recognized and I appreciate the compliment inherent in that message.
It was and remains a tangled web, this political structure we all survive inside of and are effected
all the time by. To come home and find that many of the realities of life revealed there were fully at place back home, but invisible until I’d been crushed in the combat crucible, was shocking and astounding.
Semper fi,
Jim
Yes, Hunt went through Chicago, or nearly so. Midway was barely used by anyone back in those days.
The airport thing is sort of like Nixon’s strange airplane arrival and departure in Dallas at or near
the time of Kennedy’s assassination. Is there any wonder the man was obsessed with the event, or even
had something to do with it He certainly learned that the power behind it could kill a president
and totally get away with it.
Semper fi,
Jim
Damn! Intrigue to the 10th degree. And there you are right in the middle.
I know you didn’t plan that but there you are, seems that everyone pushes you in.
I want to take a moment of your time to share with you how very much you have helped me with my own personal ptsd. I have been able to open up and share some of my experiences with family and a few veterans from Vietnam. It has helped. I assume there are many others that share my experience. Thank you!
Parker, your comment is one of those that comes at me seldom but hits hard. Why am I all about this? It’s sure not about the money. One must be a sponsored writer, already famous from something else, and then picked up and funded by a major publisher in order to make money in the writing and selling of books. How to keep going when going backwards, however slightly, is almost always the result? Gratification, therapy for my own PTSD, redemption for those things I’ve deliberately done wrong, and more are all there to keep me going. But maybe the best motivator toward continuance comes from the rare comments like your own. I am helping. From out behind the curtain at stage left, slightly under the surface of life’s seas or upon peering down through filmy clouds of fog from above, your kind of message penetrates a small but piercing light…and I cannot thank you enough for how that makes me feel.
Merry Christmas, because it is you, and those like you, that Christmas embodies as more of the population turns its collective head to look over toward those where such small rays of light are coming from. Merry Christmas and thank you.
Semper fi,
Jim
You were being watched more closely than was being let on. It seems that information was being planted for you to find, as a test of your abilities and silence. But your usefulness has seemingly already been rewarded.
They know that you know something….
My Dad’s Uncle used to say –
“werde schlau zu spät”
I think you are still ahead in the game, even though they are dealing the cards.
Todd F
Getting smart too late is like the plague of most all humans who’ve lived on this planet. Those lucky enough to have gotten smart at all, earlier or too late. And then, of course, one must define what ‘too late’ really means. Too late for what? Yes, there’s now no doubt that I was being watched very closely. The reasons for that will only become clear as time goes by and the writing continues. I will assure you that the surveillance had little or nothing to do with my expected talents or possible capabilities. It was much more arcane than that. But I will leave that for future chapters. People were lost along the way, as begins that procession in the next chapter, and I still live with the fact that I was unable to predict that stuff like that would happen. thanks for your constant support and continuing interest and have a wonderful Christmas time this season.
Semper fi,
Jim
Getting deeper water it seems James MUCH DEEPER?
Thanks Harold, for pointing that out. Yes, it was very much a delicate and dangerous time, although at the time I wasn’t truly seeing it that way. I should have taken many more precautions but wasn’t well schooled enough, even following the A Shau experience, to be able to recognize the kind of danger I was in or how to provide myself such precautions that also might have hampered by ability to make a living for the family. Tough choices that this life tosses our way. Thanks and Merry Christmas.
Semper fi,
Jim
Wow! When I started with “The First Ten Days” I never thought we’d be here.
Believe me, Ted, when I started living the First Ten Days, I never thought I’d be going what I was going through upon coming home either. It’s hard to believe to this day so many years later. Some what you are reading I’ve never written of or attempted to publish simply because I didn’t believe it was credible to the public. Maybe it’s still not but I’ve lost the motivation to truly care. I’m putting it out there and let the chips fall and the research through the following years either confirm or deny. Thanks for the short but meaningful comment and Merry Christmas.
Semper fi,
Jim
Man wild
Chapter and spooky too
Thanks Robert. Accurate analysis for certain. Merry Christmas and thanks for
taking a moment to share your brief but meaningful comment.
Semper fi,
Jim
I can’t help but wonder if history is repeating, or if current events are influencing, the direction of this story. Thanks for keeping me wondering, James.
History, in my time of study and experience, almost always repeats in some way or another. The Current spate of authoritarian leaders and would-be leaders, the Jewish dilemma, ‘war on the eastern front,’ and more. The internal fighting and mayhem inside the mostly closed confines of the American political structure, have always been deadly and punishing and I believe it’s no different today. We’ll only get to know any truth years down the road when ‘nobodies’ like me, will write of what was really going on which ends up being anything but what was being reported or even later publicly reported. Thanks for an interesting comment and have a Merry Christmas.
Semper fi,
Jim
Hey James – you are taking my brain way back in time, for sure! At that time I was a wandering soul, looking for I don’t know what. Back from Nam, unsure of anything. Messed up in the head. Building cabinets and boats, commercial fishing, whatever that would keep me from thinking.
You bring life to a number of historical characters, make them seem a bit more real to me.
Quite a few “typos”, but as usual I’ll leave them to DanC.
Thanks for yet another interesting – and challenging – chapter.
Thanks Craig, and I hope the changes made by DanC have taken care of most of the typos. DanC is like A.I. but better! During this Christmas season it’s important to think about all the help I’ve had, a lot of that motivationally from the readers who’ve written on here, like you. Others, who’ve helped my memory-wise and also with their support are named players in the books: Tom Thorkelson, Chuck Bartok, Bob Elwell, Jim Gularte, Herberch (before he passed), Mike Manning, and a few more, have all communicated (some on here) about the work, and even effected some changes when I’ve gotten things a little screwed up. The Cowardly Lion has become a very different and special creation which I never truly intended to be that. Thirty Days was simpler, in that it was a running commentary on what happened in that valley, with the input of no other person. Not so with TCL. It would not be all that it is and becoming without you, the Craig Wilcox’s of the world, and those others who actually have been a part of that now aged history without ever, until now, realizing just what big roles they played. I cannot thank you or them enough. Merry Christmas!
Semper fi,
Jim
James, Interesting that Kissinger answered your question. So timely that he just left the planet. What secrets did he take to the grave?
There’s an anecdote about Nixon showing Jackie Gleason alien bodies in Florida. Maybe?
Dorothy Hunt – unless you prefer “Doris” for the story.
Time of day. The events in the beginning of this chapter – based on previous chapters – seem to occur at night. I suggested changes where an earlier time was stated.
Some minor editing suggestions follow:
compound parking lot, only a few feet from the outer wall doors, the Staff Sergeant was appropriately waiting
Maybe change word order
compound parking lot, the Staff Sergeant was appropriately waiting only a few feet from the outer wall doors.
He opened both the back door to the car before I could let myself out, and then stepped over
Drop “both”
He opened the back door to the car before I could let myself out, and then stepped over
It was fast becoming night so a meeting out by the pool probably would have been out of the question
Previous chapters have it late at night. Reword
It was already late at night so a meeting out by the pool probably would have been out of the question
1966 Lincoln Continental was filled with bulletproof glass
Maybe “fitted” rather than “filled”
1966 Lincoln Continental was fitted with bulletproof glass
Lieutenant Gate’s Marauder
Name is Gates – so possessive is Gates’
Lieutenant Gates’ Marauder
gave the person who I considered the biggest warmonger
“whom” rather than “who”
gave the person whom I considered the biggest warmonger
Nobel Peace Prize a few years back.’
No need for single quote at end
Nobel Peace Prize a few years back.
“Varum?” Kissinger exclaimed
Actual German for “why” is “Warum”
but I believe Germans pronounce “W” as “V”
So do we go with the spelling? or with the pronunciation?
Dialog is clear as to the speaker. Do we need to attribute sentences?
“Why am I sitting here with you, with no one to listen, no tapes being made, no recorders or anything like that,” I said.
“Very excellent memory of the exact words I said. You will have usage, but you will need strong solid management,” he replied.
arcane way that it was not understandable to me
Add period
arcane way that it was not understandable to me.
dangerous and powerful man next to me
Maybe “across from” instead of “next to”
dangerous and powerful man across from me
that meant he didn’t know as much about me
Maybe drop “as”
that meant he didn’t know much about me
I looked around so more but nobody came forth from the walls
Maybe “some” instead of “so”
I looked around some more but nobody came forth from the walls
‘greatest negotiator of all time’ had put together, was going to get what he wanted so badly
Seems to need to add “until Kissinger” before “was”
‘greatest negotiator of all time’ had put together, until Kissinger was going to get what he wanted so badly
immune to the current dire circumstance.
Add ending quote
immune to the current dire circumstance.”
nothing to be seen, however, the normal contingent
End sentence after “seen” Capitalize “However”
nothing to be seen. However, the normal contingent
I noted that he used the word ‘person’ instead of him
Maybe single quotes around ‘him’
I noted that he used the word ‘person’ instead of ‘him’
something to discuss, either a critical need
Suggest colon after “discuss” as what follows is a list
something to discuss: either a critical need
I sat on the couch with Julie, Mrs. Beasley, and Bozo ever on guard on his favorite side table
Works but maybe change a bit
I sat on the couch next to Julie and Mrs. Beasley with Bozo ever on guard on his favorite side table
“What half of it are you talking about” I asked back
Maybe question mark after “about”
“What half of it are you talking about?” I asked back
staring at Julie and Mrs. Beasley, as if to say; “I’m with them.”
Maybe comma instead of semicolon
staring at Julie and Mrs. Beasley, as if to say, “I’m with them.”
Bebe Rebozo is looking for Doris Hunt
Dorothy
Bebe Rebozo is looking for Dorothy Hunt
you’re going to just let it go by because family comes first thinking
Maybe add “of” after “because”
Maybe use single quotes around ‘family comes first’
you’re going to just let it go by because of ‘family comes first’ thinking
The rest of the evening into the night was a blur before I hit the mattress and fell instantly to sleep.
It’s already late at night
Maybe
In a few minutes it was my turn to shower and go to bed. I hit the mattress and fell instantly to sleep.
mission to try to help Doris Hunt occupied most of my thinking
Dorothy Hunt
mission to try to help Dorothy Hunt occupied most of my thinking
Richard’s boat, the departure of Doris Hunt bothering me
Dorothy
Richard’s boat, the departure of Dorothy Hunt bothering me
I liked the battered by very real Butch
Maybe “but” instead of “by”
I liked the battered but very real Butch
Something is going on with Doris Hunt
Dorothy
Something is going on with Dorothy Hunt
Blessings & Be Well
Thanks so much DanC, as the edits have been made that you so accurately and kindly work at recording and sending my way. I’d also heard along the way that Gleason had special sources in the UFO community but hadn’t heard about the bodies thing. I have only seen and handled one true alien artifact in my life and it was not biological. That was scary enough, as the artifact did not obey the proper and understood rules of physics in our accepted universe. I’m not sure, as I get older and older and know more, that other artifacts and evidence exists but I still remain more than a bit questioning about living beings from another system, galaxy or planet might currently be visiting. Interesting stuff, for certain, however. Kissinger and I would have much more contact through the years as both of us traveled the planet, me in the CIA and he running his ‘consulting’ operation called Kissinger and Associates.
A very Merry Christmas to you, my friend, with great thanks and appreciation.
Semper fi,
Jim