The Berets (Brotherhood of War (Book 5)
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They were the chosen ones--and the ones to be the best. Never before had the United States given so select a group of fighting men such punishing preparation. Now they were heading for their ultimate test of skill and nerve and sacrifice, in a war unlike any they or their country had ever fought before...in a land that most of America still knew nothing about...Vietnam.
“Thank you,” Lowell said to him, taking the file. He raised his voice slightly. “Get that information for me at your convenience, Captain,” he said. “Now I would like the table and chair I requested, so I can read this. And then please send for the soldier in question.” “Would the colonel like to use the confinement officer’s office, sir?” “I would rather not,” Lowell said. “Just a room and a table and two chairs will be fine.” “Yes, sir. Will you come with me, please, sir?” He showed Lowell
identification, please?” he demanded. “Doesn’t anyone at Fort Jackson salute or say ‘sir’?” Lowell asked. The MP major considered that a moment, and repeated: “May I see some identification please?” “You salute me, Major, and call me ‘sir,’ and I will show you my identification,” Lowell said. “And then you will show me yours, because I want to make note of the name of an MP major who displays such an appalling lack of military courtesy.” MP Five lost his temper. He gestured angrily toward
she would do something like that. “Everybody but Daddy remembers Tom, don’t they?” Dianne asked. “Of course,” his wife said. Suzanne, who had been on her knees by a box of Christmas-tree ornaments, scrambled to her feet. There was surprise and pleasure on her face. “Oh, Tom!” she said. “How nice to see you!” She went quickly to him, grabbed his arms and kissed his cheek. Who the hell is he? “Please forgive my husband, Lieutenant Ellis,” his wife said, “when he is into the Christmas cheer,
it the first time, they thought it was either a mistake, or that he’d cheated, or that he had just been incredibly lucky just guessing where to put the pencil mark on the test form. He hadn’t understood what that meant then, but when he was in cooks and bakers school at Fort Lee, Virginia (Christ, what a mistake that was!), the company commander had called him in and said that he’d been going over his AGCT scores and that Tom was in Category I, thus qualifying him to apply for OCS. He hadn’t
recommendations on aircraft augmentation,” Lowell said. “He wanted a new concept. We have one to give him.” “Hey,” Jiggs said, “you’re preaching to the converted. I’m telling you how it is at CONARC, DCSOPS, and with the Chief of Staff.” Lowell looked at him but said nothing. “Where would you like to go, Craig?” Jiggs asked. “On leave to Germany to see Peter-Paul? Or to Korea on TDY? What about Indochina? You could probably do something useful there, see what support we should send the H-34