"There I was, mushing around in the Central Highlands counting Viet Cong dead," said the paratroop captain. "I was the grubbiest man alive. Bad. Really bad. After two days of no sleep I went back to camp and sacked out on an air mattress in the mud." Then came a voice telling him to get up and go to Saigon to take care of Miss America. Not bad for a dream. Even better as the real McCoy. So U.S. Army Captain Frank Lennon, 25, a West Pointer and a gentleman, scraped off the mud and...
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