In 1969, I was homeless, hungry, unemployed and living in an abandoned church parsonage. I enlisted in the army for food and a warm bed as a typist. The honor and glory lured me into hell. I became combat platoon leader and assassin for my country responsible for the lives of 50 men of nineteen. The language is prose poetry that lingers in the mind. The characters are the simple and spiritual survivors that lived in my soul for thirty years. They are the quiet hero rebels of the days we got lost in arrogance.
"In 1968, kids bartered dreams for beds and burgers and were never seen again. I miss those children, those cocky rebels in The Radical Ice-Cream Blue Rag Café and (ssshhh) Demolition Society. I wish I could have gone back to tell them how old killing, booze, and guilt made me. I couldn’t. I still had to learn if we hadn’t gambled our lives to beat the boredom with a joint of lonely, maybe we could have finished being young tasting every morsel of life to come; memories are feasts to the starving."
"... gripping, gut-wrenching story... In this magnificent book, he forces you to share those memories with him." -- Book Forword 2005
"An emotional roller coaster. It will shake your senses. Once you start, you can’t put it down." -- Jim Simchera – Historian 327th. Infantry
"You are a writer with big teeth! The past, present and future are contained in your work!" -- Public Press Party 2005
