Dad died of his old wounds soon after I left basic training. Mom followed his instructions, and they let our squad do the burial honors. I did not cry... I was a Marine.Like my dad. I was a scout, long-range recon. I got a lot of special training. If I could see it, I could kill it. Several ways. Soon I was a squad leader. I remembered what my dad had taught me. Your troops are your family. Treat them hard, but treat them right. Never demand any more, or accept any less, from your men than you do. I scratched her scalp and head for a few minutes, andshe purred contentedly. M was having a good time. As Iplayed with her lush hair, I grabbed a few handfuls ofhair and pulled, noticeably hard. I heard a sharp intakeof breath, and a sigh, not quite a moan of pleasure, butclose. More like a quiver. I held onto her hair for afull 5 seconds, during which time we both became awareof something…I released her hair and we disengaged.“I got two. More

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