“Twenty-four, Sir.”
“Twenty-four,” the Old Fox repeated quietly, shaking his head. “Lieutenant,” he said louder, “this infiltration is like a cancer to this nation. It’s like a tumor which we’ve attacked. We’ve halted its growth and possibly reversed its gnawing, rotting progress. When Marines first landed in I Corps back in ’65 most of their contacts were made within five to eight kilometers of the cities. In ’67 and ’68, with the exception of the Tet Offensive and Counter-Offensive, the fighting had moved into the jungles and away from the populated lowlands. Now, Lieutenant, we are in the mountains thirty, forty, fifty kilometers from the cities we must defend. A lot of Americans have paid dearly for this protection and we have been paid back. We have checked this cancer. But until the
