Lieutenant Wheeler set up a defense perimeter around the crash site to keep the North Vietnam patrol from the wreckage. The slant-eyed gooks wanted the plane and its pilots. The Yards returned fire, and the enemy pulled back.
Killian was kneeling next to Connor when his friend opened his blue eyes.
Connor smiled. “Hi, buddy,” he whispered. Then his head rolled to one side. He was dead.
Killian held onto Connor’s right hand, and his gaze fell upon the tattoo on his friend’s arm. Tears came into his eyes. The North Vietnamese soldiers were firing again and challenging the troop’s defense perimeter. Killian laid down his weapons and took Connor’s Colt M1911 semi-automatic revolver and his Camillers pilot survival knife. Lieutenant Wheeler came over and told Killian he was sorry about the l
