I spent all of September of that year on top of a small hill a couple of miles from Laos. I and another Marine snapped two ponchos together and it made a tent. That was our home. No running water but a terrific view. Here, a blond-hair, blue-eyed young lieutenant joined us. He was from Tyler. I knew him at Robert E. Lee High School. He was a couple of years ahead of me. His name was Pete Lake. He smoked cigars. We wondered what were the odds of two boys from Lee being assigned to the same small Marine outfit in Vietnam. Pete made it back to Tyler and became a gas and oil man. He still lives there. If any of you know Pete Lake, you could call him and tell him an old friend would like to buy him a drink.