“Behold Alphonse no-middle-name Smith,” said Professor Hanson Muir, reading with his characteristic flourish from five pages of summary notes. “Born April 27, 1948, in Chicago, Illinois. Father unknown. Mother presently unlocatable and probably not still alive. Nine and a half years of schooling. Enlisted in the Marine Corps on September 5, 1966. Arrived in Da Nang on March 21, 1967, where he was assigned to the Force Logistics Command.”

“You’re telling me this guy was a supply pogue from FLC?” interrupted Condley unbelievingly. “That this so-called badass was a rear-echelon puke who spent his days stacking boxes of skivvies in a warehouse?”

“According to his records.”

“How’d he ever end up leading NVA patrols?”

Muir chuckled ironically, looking up for a moment from his notes. “Don’t you always like to boast that every Marine is a rifleman?”

Condley grunted, amazed. “The closest the FLC guys got to combat was loading ammo and C-rations onto the convoy trucks.”

“Well, it appears he made up for it when he joined the other side, doesn’t it?” Muir began reading again. “Where was I? Okay, here. Commanding officer’s nonjudicial punishment, 11 September, 1967, for the offense of disrespect to a noncommissioned officer. Ten days’ confinement and loss of pay. Special court-martial, 14 November, 1967, for being absent without leave for twenty-seven days. From these notes it seems he was apprehended while trying to live permanently in the transient barracks at the R and R Center in Da Nang.”

“Not a bad choice if you’re going to run away from your unit,” mused Condley grudgingly. “The officers in charge see you walking around and think you’re in from the bush, on your way to Hong Kong or Bangkok or Singapore. You don’t have to show any R and R orders to eat in the mess hall, so you get three hot meals a day for free. Find yourself an unassigned cot in the barracks after everybody goes to bed at night, so you have a place to sleep. There are new faces every day coming in and out from R and R, and no permanent occupants in the barracks, so who’s going to finger you for being AWOL?”

“Yes,” answered Muir. “I never realized there were so many ways to disappear inside a combat zone. But anyway, they finally caught him.”

“Maybe he forgot to get a haircut,” joked Condley.

“Indeed,” laughed Professor Muir. “After twenty-seven days you may be right. So our man was reduced to private, with forfeiture of all pay and allowances, and sentenced to two months in the Third Marine Amphibious Force brig, Da Nang. His next offense: commanding officer’s nonjudicial punishment, 15 April, 1968, for disrespect to a noncommissioned officer. Fifteen days’ confinement, loss of all pay and privileges. Next offense, or shall I say the final straw: absent without leave, 6 May, 1968, never seen or heard from again, whereabouts unknown.”