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By Lindsay Peacock

The Osprey strive against plane sequence comprised a couple of monographs on sleek US and Soviet army plane and helicopters. The textual content provided a concise improvement and repair background of the plane, however the major allure of every identify was once the illustrations.

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Then a burning desire for air hit me at the same time I realized that any explosion under this water would rupture my eardrums. Pulling my way through the vegetation, I finally reached the surface and gasped for air. "Boom! " The sounds of war rushed back as my head cleared the surface. I had spent only a few seconds in my underwater refuge. I Page 8 settled behind a mound of earth formed by the forces of some previous bombardment and systematically disassembled and cleaned my weapon the best I could.

Good old American round eyes," as we called them. I showered and scrubbed until my body screamed in protest, slapped on some aftershave I borrowed from one of the instructors, donned my gear and headed off in search of the USO show and the girls. For some reason, though, I felt very uneasy. As I arrived, the show was already underway. There they were, three girls in the shortest skirts I had ever seen, dancing and singing "We Gotta Get Outta This Place" as loud as they could. Each swayed and throbbed in her own sensuous way.

No buts. " Reluctantly I loosened the scabbard and laid the knife alongside the other weapons that had been my friends for so long. With a sigh, I picked up my sea bag, turned and left them behind. An empty feeling settled over me. A jeep was waiting outside. " the driver asked. "Yes," I answered. He nodded for me to climb in. I tossed my sea bag into the back, grabbed the side of the jeep and plopped into the seat beside the driver. Without a word, he jammed the shifter into gear. The tires spun up a cloud of dust as the jeep responded with a jolt.

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