There was little of Flatbush left in the dark-eyed, glamour-bobbed brunette who called herself Yvette Madsen. Only a hint of Canarsie in her consonants, a touch of Gowanus in her vowels remained to mark her as plain Jane Noack, a kid born in Brooklyn 22 years ago. Yvette was glad enough to have left Jane behind.
One evening last October Yvette went to a cocktail party near Frankfurt with her husband, U.S. Air Force Lieutenant Andrew Madsen. They drank bourbon-and-Coke, played "Pass the Kleenex,"*and Yvette twitted her Georgia-born host, another U.S. officer, on...
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