More that 2.5 million Americans served in Vietnam, the vast majority in supporting roles. Yet just because they were behind the lines didn't mean they were shielded from the chaos and the craziness, from the pain and the suffering. In fact, there were no front lines in Vietnam. The war was here, there and everywhere. And that's just fine with Specialist Alan Lacey, the narrative voice of the novel. A 22-year-old Army draftee from Michigan, he's smart, cocky, funny, arrogant. Which to the lifers-the career soldiers-means he's an asshole. But he's a powerful asshole. He's chief clerk of a Saigon headquarters company. He knows how to get things done; he knows how to keep things from getting done. He wheels and deals; he plays and parties. He doesn't like Saigon and he's disgusted with the war effort, yet he gladly takes advantage of the whole situation as he counts off his 365 days. But Vietnam and the war that has engulfed it have taken the measure of many a smart-ass clerk over the years. Lacey will be no exception. He finds himself forced to take a stand, to seek revenge, to confront the enemy-even when that enemy's uniform is the same as his.
