“I knew it.” Sullivan smacked his right fist into his left palm. “I told Conklin a month ago. A mess. They’d make a mess.”
“And you wanted me ta go,” Conklin piped up. “Me, thirty-three and a wake-up, with a fine young woman waitin’. Hey, listen to this. ‘The Vietnam Moratorium Committee, a leading antiwar organization, citing President Nixon’s April 21 announcement that 150,000 more U.S. troops will be withdrawn by April 1971, has disbanded and closed its doors.’ ”
“They need our help,” Sullivan said.
“Who?” Conklin looked up from his papers.
“The Cambodians,” Sullivan said as if Conklin had gone off his track. “They’re the key to the war, but without us...Damn! They’re attacking Viet civilians, running from the NVA. They’ve got to be turned around. They need advisors.”
“That’s exact
