My bunkmate was our company captain, a likable fellow from Brooklyn named Donald Decosta, but we all called him Don. He was a hellacious flirt, with a different nurse every night, going into Saigon and sometimes as far away as Pleikku to party while on leave. The board above his bunk was plastered with pictures of a dozen different girls from back home. Don had laughing eyes and a devilish grin that made all the women swoon. It wasn’t just the women, either—the men loved him. Despite the bars on his shirt, he palled around with the guys as if he were just another enlisted man.
There had been a few nights I’d agreed to let him have the barracks, crashing at the officer’s club so he could share his bed with the latest girl who’d caught his eye. I didn’t mind much, and once I had found Rich,
