“It means you’re out to the point you were never in. No pension. No benefits. No nothing.”

“Right. Doesn’t matter how hard you worked, how much you gave, how brave you were in combat. Dan was one of best pilots out there. The Navy was fucking lucky to have him, but sorry, old boy, queers are undesirable. That sounds a whole fucking lot like Hitler, if you ask me.”

“Paps said war blows all the rules to shit. I guess not all the rules.”

“They shipped Dan back to San Francisco and dumped him onto the street. Where was he supposed to go? He’d been on his own since he was a teenager. His family didn’t want him. All his friends were at sea. I was laid up in Honolulu, still seeing double. I wired him some money and told him to get on a train to New York. I told him to come here. I wrote Paps and Marta, said a buddy needed a base. Just someplace safe to stay so he could figure out what to do. They were going to let him stay on Tre-O. Pay him to caretake and do some boat repairs.” He rubbed his face wearily. “That was the plan. Danny had another one. Cops found him dead in a hotel room in the Castro. I got to San Fran just in time to identify him in the morgue.”

“Suicide?”

Minor nodded into his palms, then picked up his face and looked at Kennet. “What do you do with that? Huh? In the great filing cabinet of life, what folder does that go into? Who the hell is this country to say out one side of its mouth that it’s a champion for freedom, and out the other side tell its best men they’re undesirable? To the point that none of their service is allowed on the record anymore. The time served, the battles fought, the risks taken, the injuries suffered…all of it expunged. Your pension revoked. Were you thinking about college? Not anymore. Thought you’d get a loan and build a house or a business? Think again. No blacks, Jews or cocksuckers need apply. You are not desired.”

“Jesus, Mine, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Well. That’s my story of the Johnny MacIntyre that almost was. Never again. When I went back to sea, I just kept my fucking self to myself. If people knew or even suspected I was gay, I’d give them nothing to work with. But still…I had my buddies. Old ones from the Lex. New ones from Indy. God, the bond that happens between fellows in combat. You think you know, but you don’t know until you’re in it.”