Jarred Glickman learned early on that a man is only what he thinks he is-and nothing more. In his quest to satisfy his father's values, Jarred discards his dream of becoming a photographer, marries, and begins attending medical school. Desperate for a loan so he can continue school, Jarred innocently signs his life away to a man who promises he will never have financial worries again. But as the Vietnam War rages, Jarred has no idea he has just signed up to join a military intelligence operation and, in the process, forever changed his destiny. As he attends weekly stealth lectures by a retired submarine commander, Jarred learns more than he ever wanted to know about war and soon receives his first assignment at a political rally in downtown Philadelphia. Successful at achieving his objectives, Jarred is triumphant-albeit only for a short time, for his success moves him to the next level of intelligence and sends him to Saigon. He must leave his young family and put his life in jeopardy for those who now own him. Never in his wildest dreams could Jarred have predicted what he has become-a dark angel obedient to his convoluted destiny.

The Eye Doctor

Dark AngelBy Jerold S. Greenfield

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2011 Dr. Jerold S. Greenfield
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4620-3310-2

Contents

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS...............................................................vINTRODUCTION...................................................................ixCHAPTER 1—THE TURNING POINT..............................................1CHAPTER 2—IN THE BEGINNING...............................................3CHAPTER 3—OFF TO COLLEGE.................................................9CHAPTER 4—THE PLAN.......................................................11CHAPTER 5—ROBERTA........................................................20CHAPTER 6—ANOTHER BEGINNING..............................................25CHAPTER 7—THE CLASSES OF MAC SOG CMI CMA.................................33CHAPTER 8—THE ASSIGNMENTS................................................46CHAPTER 9—SAIGON.........................................................51CHAPTER 10—THE INDIAN....................................................65CHAPTER 11—REALITY IN VIETNAM............................................74CHAPTER 12—HOME AGAIN?...................................................131CHAPTER 13—BACK IN THE SADDLE AGAIN......................................153CHAPTER 14—THE ISRAELIE..................................................175CHAPTER 15—HO-HUM, BUT ONLY FOR A WHILE..................................188CHAPTER 16—KIMEE.........................................................197CHAPTER 17—THE RABBI.....................................................209CHAPTER 18—"THE QUICKIE"-BUT HELL TO PAY.................................230CHAPTER 19—THE HOMICIDE..................................................240CHAPTER 20—THE ULTIMATE MANIPULATION.....................................260CHAPTER 21—THE ADOPTIONS.................................................274CHAPTER 22—BORN AGAIN....................................................284CHAPTER 23—THE DREAM.....................................................295CHAPTER 24—JENNIFER......................................................299CHAPTER 25—THE RECTIFICATION COMMITTEE JUSTIFICATION.....................311

Chapter One

THE TURNING POINT

"INCOMING!" A SHRILL VOICE shouted the warning. It resounded in my head like a jackhammer as I lay sweating in the darkness of my room. I braced myself, every muscle of my body taut in expectation of impending death. An instant later a tremendous explosion shook the room, followed by a flash of light. After a moment, there was another explosion and another flash. The window above my bed shattered, and bits of glass fell on my face and body like raindrops in a storm.

Then there was silence. I was pretty sure I was dead. At the least, I wasn't sure that I was alive. It seemed like an eternity passed while I continued to lie there, and it became sadly obvious to me that I really didn't care anymore whether I was dead or alive. In some small way, I hoped that I was dead. Then, this entire nightmare in Vietnam would finally be over.

I had come to realize that my existence was inconsequential. The past month had been too horrible to think about, and the present was fleeting and insecure. It could only be lived from second to second, or at best, from hour to hour. There was no more to hope for than that. There was no future to hang on to in Saigon. Only a fool would look to the future because life itself could be snatched away at any given time. In a bizarre way, I felt as though I had no past, no present, and no future. I was in a conscious nowhere land. I lay there wondering why I was even there, what I had done wrong to deserve this living hell, and why I had to endure it.

Sweat dripped off my forehead and into my eyes that were still clenched shut. I could feel the shards of glass on my face and concluded that, because I was thinking and aware of the fact that I was thinking, I must not be dead. I supposed it was a good thing, but it really didn't matter one way or the other to me at that point. No one would really care if I died. If I was dead, I would be just another casualty in this God-forsaken war.

Soon, I heard sirens wailing in the distance. This was another clue that I was still alive, so I decided to go see what the hell had happened. I stood and brushed the glass off of my clothes, listening as it tinkled to the floor—another clue that I wasn't dead. I grabbed my .45 and my AK47 and made my way out of the building to participate in the chaos and maybe get a few rounds off at the enemy. The thought of putting a few rounds in the enemy really got me moving.

When I went outside, nobody noticed me. I was armed and ready to fight, but there was no one to fight. All I saw were medical personnel and corpsmen—no fighting soldiers. I was the only dumbass who had shown up armed to the teeth, and no one paid any attention to me.

Two men lay dead on the ground, blown to pieces. Everyone attending the scene seemed casual and matter-of-fact about what they needed to do to clean up the mess. Two more of America's sons had been lost, and that was that. The indifference infuriated me.

Some ragtag Vietcong had gotten close enough to the base to lob two mortar rounds into the base. They had no particular target in mind and had gotten lucky, killing two of our boys. There was nothing I could do, no one to shoot at, no enemy, and no posse armed for retaliation. I just stood there, taking it all in.

like a subconscious volcano erupting in my mind, this was it for me. When I got back to my room, I was a changed man. In that moment, I went from being an observer to being a predator. I didn't yet know exactly what I would do, but I knew that I was going to do something different than what I had been trained to do. I was determined to achieve payback. Somehow, someway, this was a turning point; and the knowledge that I had become a predator brought me joy.

Chapter Two

IN THE BEGINNING

RETROSPECTIVELY, I CAN ONLY say that I was quite ordinary. I came from an ordinary middle-class Jewish family. Well, that's not quite true. My father was of German Jewish decent, and my mother was a Russian Catholic. My father, the Jew, had married a Gentile, also known as the Shiksa.

Back in the 1940s, the Jewish ethic was very strong. When my father married out of the Jewish faith, he was excommunicated from the family who lived in New York.

My mother and father had been born in the United States, but their parents were of European, Russian, and German heritage. They had immigrated to this country as many had during the post WWI and WWII era.

As fate would have it, I am a second generation immigrant to this country. My great-granddaddy was not involved in the Civil War, and no one from my family was part of Custer's last Stand. We were not longstanding Americans; but we were none-the-less truly American—proud and grateful to be American, for the record.

My father moved to miami Beach, Florida to escape the wrath of the family for marrying out of the religion. In the 1940s, there were many more gentiles living in miami and miami Beach per capita than were living in New York, which was strongly Jewish per capita.

My life was rather ordinary. I went to kindergarten, elementary school, and high school in Miami Beach, Florida. The years passed without any major drama or...