Jungle Rules Read Online Free

O’Connor said, now bounding down the stairs behind a sometimes clumsy Kirkwood. “I get some really serious sinus headaches. The New York City pollution nearly wiped me out while I went to college and law school there. Now the slightest bit of crap in the air makes me crazy.”
    “My college and law school days didn’t do my sinuses any favors either. I thought the smog in Los Angeles was the world’s worst until I got here,” Kirkwood said, now holding his handkerchief over his mouth and nose, and squinting at a burly, bald-headed staff sergeant waiting at the bottom of the ladder.
    “Captain Kirkwood, Captain O’Connor, my name is Staff Sergeant Derek Pride. Welcome to Da Nang, Republic of South Vietnam,” the robust Marine said cheerfully, snapping a quick salute to both officers. “It’s a pressure inversion, little wind, and what flow we do have is from the east, so it is like a lid on a jar here. All the shit bottled up. Sorry you came on such a bad day, but you’ll get used to it.”
    “What is it?” Kirkwood then asked the sergeant. “Is there a paper mill or something nearby to cause such a terrible smell?”
    “No, sir,” Pride said, leading the men across the tarmac, “that’s Dogpatch.”
    “Dogpatch?” Kirkwood said. “Like from the Lil’ Abner cartoons?”
    “Sort of,” Pride said, walking abreast the two captains. “It’s the slum. Bad area. Nobody righteous goes there. At least nobody with any brains. We leave it alone because it’s far enough from any of our forces to not be a factor for them, and frankly, we just don’t need another headache. We have our hands full with Charlie and the NVA, out there on the ridges. Nothing but dopers and deadbeats in Dogpatch anyway. Maybe a few deserters, too, but I’d rather be in jail than that place. Believe me.”
    “Where do we go from here?” O’Connor said, pulling his handkerchief over his nose and mouth, too.
    “Just inside,” the sergeant said. “Receiving will endorse your orders and get you started on the happy road to check-in. From here, however, we will go directly to billeting, and get you into your quarters.”
    “I could use a nap,” Kirkwood said, now ambling a pace behind O’Connor and Staff Sergeant Pride. “Terry, aren’t you tired?”
    “A little punchy, Jon, but I’m making it,” O’Connor said.
    “If you’re smart, sir, you’ll grab a nap, too,” Pride said, opening the door to the Da Nang Air Base passenger terminal, and then leading the two officers toward a high counter where a round-faced gunnery sergeant sat like a Buddha behind a desk placard that said: Officer and Staff NCO Check-in . “The wing staff judge advocate, Lieutenant Colonel Lewis Prunella, always hosts a hail-and-farewell party for the staff on the last Friday of each month, and gentlemen, that’s tonight. While he may not say anything, should you sleep in, the military justice officer, Major Dudley Dickinson, will most certainly. Since both of you gentlemen will be joining the defense team, you’re already on the negative with him.”
    “How’s that? He’s never met us,” O’Connor said, stuffing his handkerchief into his trousers pocket and picking up a pen and signing his name on a log sheet latched down on a clipboard overseen by the silent, round-faced gunny who rubber-stamped both officers’ travel orders.
    “Yeah,” Kirkwood chimed in, now signing his name, “that’s right. How can he start us on the negative when he knows nothing about us?”
    “You’ll find out when you check in with him,” the staff sergeant said, escorting the duo back out the screen door and leading them to a jeep with a red plate emblazoned with the letters S-J-A stenciled in yellow fastened on its front bumper. “First we’ll get you billeted, and then we’ll go meet Major Dickinson. Just don’t let him wear through your skin right off on your first day.”
    “Terry?” Kirkwood said, climbing onto the backseat of the jeep, his