No name, no numerical marking so the Soviet intelligence-gathering trawlers wouldn’t know who was coming and going. I was hoping he would be a cook�...�s assistant or paint sc****r. Some lowly swab my rating or close to it.“He’s the Exec.”Shit, shit, shit. I might have knocked up the wife of the number two officer on the sub.It would be Vietnam, for sure. The army had its ways of ridding itself of debris.I looked in her eyes for what I hoped would be my last time and said good bye thanking her for. We continued seeing one another for another month or so, Spring mid-terms had separated us for a bit, after which I thought we’d resume our relationship. Well, no. I didn’t hear from her until just after graduation. We were both set to receive our diplomas, two days apart as it turned out, mine first, I got a call from Kara three days later, a Tuesday, telling me we had to meet, it was urgent, and be at the Camden Inn Thursday evening at six-thirty sharp. Click ++++++ Thursday did not come fast. More

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