Foreword
A CIVILIAN AT LAST!
It meant no more siring some yo-yo just out of college who figured a gold stripe on his sleeve made him God Almighty.... It meant eating what he wanted, sleeping with whom he wanted....It meant money, real money; being able to tell any mother's son to go to hell.... It meant being free for the first time in four lousy years.... And it meant poon tang. Not sailor poon, not some tired, beat-up prostitute you picked up in a crummy bar. Not some nervous, giggling, gum-chewing high-school kid who went with sailors because she didn't know any better. But the real stuff, high-breasted and classy who wriggled her butt right past you as if you weren't there when she spotted the uniform. They'd look at him, all right. Because he was the best kind of civilian there is-the kind with money!