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The Cactus Curtain—1965“L isten up, Davis.” Corporal Fred Tucker of the 2nd Reconnaissance Battalion detachment on temporary duty at Gitmo nearly blinded PFC Davis with a thumb he was using to apply camouflage war paint to the rookie’s face. “Play time is over. You read me?” “Lima Charlie, Corporal Tucker.” Private First Class Sheldon (No Middle Initial) Davis jabbed his own thumb perilously close to his patrol leader’s eye as he returned the favor with a streak of greasepaint. “Swift—Silent—Deadly.” “Focus on the first two, boot.” Tucker pointed at the loaded M-3 Greasegun in Shake’s lap. “Any shooting gets done tonight, I’ll do it. Weapon on safe at all times unless I pass the word otherwise. This is snoop-and-poop. We ain’t out there to get into no firefight with the fuckin’ Cubans.”