Little White Lies by Paul Watkins

underlying need for me.
    It’s nice to be doing something again … especially something that needs doing. I like the sense of purpose I have in the morning when I look at the list of things to do and I like the feeling I have in the evening when I see all that has been accomplished during the day.
    The security staff is finally complete with everyone in position except Steve Marshall, who is still in training. Steve and I are getting along much better these days, but that’s another story. The search for the staff began to take shape when I was able to get in touch with one of my old Nam buddies, Jim Hudson, who was not exactly available, but more than willing tocome aboard. Jim had helped me out on one or two occasions in my old business, but that, too, is another story.
    Jim was a part of my team in Nam for more than a year, which translates to a couple of lifetimes. I have always found him to be quiet and reliable. He is physically big and skilled in all the ways necessary to confront a human opponent and defeat him, big-boned, barrel-chested and gentle as they come until he decides to be otherwise. It turned out Jim had stayed in touch with some of our guys and we managed to get two of our staff from the old gang.
    The first day we all got together it was pretty heavy. I don’t think there was a dry eye among us for the first hour or so. All the things that had happened, seemingly long forgotten, were remembered with incredible detail. It was quite amazing, but definitely one of those situations where you had to have been there. Someone listening in would have thought we were crazy and they would not have been far from the truth. Those were crazy days and we were in tune with the times. Perhaps even a little ahead of our time in some ways. We talked and laughed for hours until we got most of it out of our systems.
    It was something that had to be done, I suppose. Whether we worked together or simply convened for a drink in a bar, we had to air out all the old memories. The victories, the fears… the lingering animosities towards ‘upper management’, who did not allow much leeway when it came to pursuit of the enemy, but left us plenty of ways to die. I don’t think it hurts to get some of that stuff out in the sunshine, but eventually it has to be put behind us so we can all move on.
    It’s not the kind of thing you feel comfortable discussing with someone who wasn’t there with you. It must be someone who shared each day’s experiences, who was right there at your side, suffering as you were suffering, and now remembers as you remember… that’s the only way you can talk about it.
    No matter what, there’s nothing that can be done about it now or ever again. I would like to think the country’s leaders might have learned a lesson from Viet Nam, but I don’t have much hope in that regard either. The government seems determined to repeat its mistakes over and over again. It’s the nature of the beast. People who have never heard a shot fired in anger always seem willing to send others to do the dirty work. But that was then and this is now, and those memories are best left in the box.
    We filled out the rest of the staff from Jim’s contacts. In and around the security community for almost twenty years, he knew where to look. Jim made a few calls and found the people we needed within a matter of weeks. Although the men are all professionals, I told Jim I wanted a training program in place to make certain everyone is up to speed on every aspect of life around here. We cannot assume people are going to do the right thing by instinct. We have to be certain each person understands and is capable of doing what is expected of him. Great credentials are not enough. I want every skill to be verified in training and practice. Even more important, I want everyone tohave confidence in one another and to understand the skills available in the group.
    Ultimately the value of all this talent is the ability to put it