I told Camille I was sick, and watched her as she got herself ready to go out to the Officer’s Club.  She was gorgeous; matinee-beauty gorgeous. But I don’t think she actually knew it.  All she had to do was throw on some lipstick, run a comb through that red hair of hers, and jump into her fatigues and she was the hottest thing on base.

“Sure ya’ll aren’t coming?” She tossed her curls.

“I’m sure,” I said.  “Bad headache.”

She nodded and gave me a wink.  She handed me a bottle of aspirin and whispered, “Go to bed.”

I nodded.

Once she had left, I went back to my hooch, put on some clean fatigues, and redid my ponytail.  I sat on the edge of my bunk wondering why I had just...

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