An impressive group of young men have successfully completed what has been described as the most difficult military training program in existence--Air Force Pararescue. Now they're ready to don the maroon beret and receive their orders. In the jungles of Vietnam and all around the world, they'll use their training to the utmost and strive to live by their creed: "These things we do that others may live." Seven young men make up Pararescue Class 66-November, and their newly formed bonds of kinship will help carry them through missions that test the limits of their training and their skills. Only time will reveal their successes and failures--and the future that awaits them as specialists working to save the lives of others. This novel tells the story of seven Pararescue Specialists in the 1960s and '70s as they use their training to save the lives of others. Pararescue: You Must Be Mad! Book II: Through The Looking Glass By Martin F Caldwell iUniverse Copyright © 2017 Martin F Caldwell All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-1-5320-2583-9 Contents Prologue, 1, First Steps, 15, Epilogue, 303, Acknowledgements, 311, 'Everyone's Mad Here!' The 'Lone Wolf', 313, Editor's Note, 323, Endnotes, 325, CHAPTER 1 First Steps GOING 'IN-COUNTRY' CLARK AIR FORCE BASE PHILLIPINE IS. Airman Second Class Lee Davis stepped out of the shower, bent stiffly and toweled off trying to dislodge another bit of the gummy jungle filth that still seemed to ooze from his pores. He moved painfully to the sinks and his shaving kit. The visage that peered back from the mirror was not his own. A hundred dozen 'wait a minute' vines, creepers and thorny scrubbery had left welting scratches on his exposed skin. Hordes of flying-biter-thingies had raised swellings, bumps, and numerous scabbed cuts and abrasions that made Davis' entire face, neck and upper body look as though he had been on the receiving end of a well-organized gang thumping. Davis massaged his aching shoulders, scrunched his neck and endeavored to loosen the knotted muscles. His body still ached and his back and shoulders bore greenish-purple marks where the frayed straps and the steel frame of his rucksack had dug and twisted as he groped and fell through the jungle. Davis and Garvy had their heads about them enough that when they were released from training, before hitting the barracks and the showers, they had shuffled into the small Class VI Convenience Store and grabbed not only several six-packs of beer, bags of anything edible, ice and three large bottles of aspirin. With a half-cold beer, Davis swallowed three aspirin, hoping that they would provide some Relief. Then he checked his watch, flopped on the military bunk with its lumpy mattress and fell instantly into a deep sleep somewhere near a state of coma. * * * MID SEPTEMBER NAKHON PHANOM, ROYAL NAVY BASE, THAILAND 'NAKED FANNY' Over the roar of the C-130's engines, the loadmaster screamed at the eight men strapped into the tattered nylon seats along the fuselage. "Make damn sure your asses are strapped in tight! This is a real no shit and honest to God combat zone and we're gonna make a tactical approach and landing." He grinned, "Not to worry, but if we do crump this bitch, get out and away from her and make damn sure you have your weapon. If you have one!" Some of the men looked at each other as if to say, Oh Jesus, what the hell have I got myself into! Cassidy, pulled the seat belt a little tighter, checked to see where he could get out if bad things really happened and checked the safety on his pistol. The issue Colt .38 caliber 'snake shooter' with three-inch barrel was packed in his duffel bag loaded and in a small survival pack on top of everything else. A last resort just in case . Under his left arm hung a modified shoulder holster with a real man-stopper weapon, his grandfather's Model 1911, .45 caliber pistol and two extra mags of ammo. Combined with the mesh survival vest, survival knife and boonie hat pulled low over his face, Cassidy looked more like a returning combat vet than someone going to war for the first time. "You been 'In-Country' before." It was a statement not a question from the loadmaster. Cassidy shook his head. "No, but I know which end of these things to point at the bad guys!" The loadie grinned and took his own seat and strapped down Tight. Seconds later there was a noticeable change in the engines Roaring. They screamed to max power, the left wing went low, as the nose of the aircraft dropped, and the big aircraft dived out of the sky. Like a roller coaster at Coney Island, the '130 took the plunge, turned and then went nose high as the pilots brought the bird on a very short final. The wheels rumbled down and seconds later there was a heavy yelp of tires grabbing Mother Earth, an instantaneous roar of reversing engines, and what sounded like an erratic buzz-saw below the undercarriage of the aircraft. A moment later there was a whining sound as