Page 46 of Cry Havoc

“Yes, but also from some of our guests. A few of our visitors thought it would be a good idea to pass on some of what they learned in the OSS. I think they saw that my dad was torn and had decided to lock the experience away, at least from his family. They had me practicing the knife fighting techniques they had learned directly from William Fairbairn and Bill Sykes based on their experiences with the Shanghai Municipal Police in China before the war. That was all when my mom wasn’t looking. Rex Applegate stopped by a few times as well. He was quite a character. I guess it was a fairly unique way to grow up, but it was all I knew. After high school I’d had enough of the mountains. I felt the pull of the ocean, so off I went to California.”

“It’s like you were bred for this,” Quinn said, handing the knife back.

“Maybe I was. What did your father do in the war?” Tom asked, resheathing and securing the sharp blade.

“Came into Normandy on a glider with the 82nd. Made it all the way to the Battle of the Bulge. He was wounded by an artillery shell. Then he froze to death. A man from his company came to visit us after the war. Told us the story. Wanted us to know. I never saw him again. I want to track him down when we are done with this mess, to learn more about my dad. My mom doesn’t talk about him. It was tough for her after he died. Sent me to military school, which kept me out of trouble.”

“The women of that generation were something else. Went right from the Great Depression into World War Two. Did she remarry?”

“She did. Nice guy. Was a clerk in the war. Went to work for the post office when he got back. Good job. I think I’ll do the same.”

“You? In the post office?”

“Why are you so surprised? Someday, this war, like all wars, is going to end.” His voice sounded almost sad. “Fuck it. Maybe I’ll stay here. Go to Thailand and open a bar.”

“Will your wife be on board with that?”

“Second wife. And it’s not going to last. I’d say divorce is imminent.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Marriage doesn’t seem compatible with SOG.”

“Good to know.”

“If you are looking for relationship advice.”

“I’m not.”

“Well, I’ll give it anyway. Be far away from ’Nam and even farther away from SOG before you even consider it. It’s not fair to them.”

“What’s not?”

“Having a mistress.”

“What do you mean?”

“SOG is that crazy, mysterious mistress you can’t stay away from. She’snot good for your wallet, your health, your liver, or your sanity, but you keep coming back for more. If you want to get married, stay away from SOG.”

“Good advice. Now, you want me to teach you how to surf or what?”

“You heard what Larry the lifeguard said about snakes and sharks.”

“Come on. The odds of getting munched by a shark are almost zero.”

“Key word—almost. If I stay out of the ocean and grab another beer the odds are exactly zero,” Quinn said.

“Suit yourself.”

Tom kicked off his Converse shoes, pulled his shirt over his head, and removed his jeans.

“What the hell are those?”

“UDT shorts.”

“They look uncomfortable as fuck.”

“They are.”