Page Title

Synopsis

Jeff Klein spends his early years in New York's Brooklyn Heights and Westchester County. From an early age, Jeff idolises his father but is indifferent towards his alcoholic and dangerously unbalanced mother, whom he blames for his father's leaving for the war in Korea and his ultimate death.

Jeff dreams of glory in war. His dream gathers pace in his youth and perfects itself during his years as an undergraduate at West Point, culminating in his being presented with his graduation honours by the tragically ill-fated John Fitzgerald Kennedy, on whom Jeff has modelled his own personal vision of the American Dream.

But in the intensity of the Vietnam war zone, he finds glory to be as elusive as the enemy he is fighting and as remote as the dying American Dream, the dream of his generation.

On the road to his dream, we meet some of the characters who form part of his experiences of life and those who seek to destroy it:

The Major: Commanding Officer of Fire Support Base Delta Four, who despises Jeff's innocence of warfare and who drinks heavily to deaden the effect of his frustration caused by the elusive enemy.

Master Sergeant Luca Ricci: A veteran of both the Korean and Vietnam Wars, who is himself walking along the razor's edge of his own sanity and who finds ultimate salvation in an horrific public ritual suicide.

Christie Papadakis: Deserter, gun runner to the Viet Cong, drug dealer, trader in human souls and betrayer of friendships.

Colonel Weissman: Lord and master of the mysterious Directorate of Military and Political Studies who sends agents to assassinate Jeff because he has betrayed the secrets behind the illegal Cambodian bombing raids.

Carlo Rossi: The war correspondent to whom Jeff betrays this most closely guarded of secrets.

Paula: Jeff's beautiful wife, whom he loves deeply and who struggles incessantly to bring him back from the brink of his self-destruction, but whom Jeff ultimately abandons to search deeper into his dying dream.

Twilight's Last Gleaming goes to the heart of the Vietnam War Zone, the degradation and corruption of Saigon City and the uncharted depths of insane human minds.

Sample Chapter

The Major was old, gray and haggard long before his time and Jeff Klein noticed how his shoulders sagged, as if he bore the weight of the world upon them. He noticed the strange expression in his eyes, a sort of haunted and faraway gaze, full of barely hidden pain and despair. He couldn't positively define the expression because he had no understanding of the reasons for it being there and this lack of knowledge bothered him.

The Major looked Jeff up and down for a while and struggled to hide his contempt. It wasn't really Jeff as a person he disliked but the crazy system which had bred him and allowed him to come here and he thought how Jeff was going to be the pain in the ass he didn't need.

He sighed heavily, removed his wire-rimmed spectacles and tossed them onto the desk where they landed next to a half empty whiskey bottle. He leaned forward in his chair, rested his elbows on the edge of the desk and covered his face with his hands. He sighed again.

"Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy," he said. "Hassle. All I get is hassle."

He rose from his chair, walked over to the window of his office and looked out across the north west section of Fire Support Base Delta Four. He just looked, at anything and nothing.

"Klein," he said. "There are two things in this Godforsaken pile of horse shit I don't need. Do you know what they are?"

"SIR, NO SIR!" A loud staccato reply to his new Commanding Officer, whom he wanted to, felt he had to, impress right from the start. But it seemed to grate on The Major's nerves.

He winced and turned to face him. "Listen, Klein, for fuck's sake cut out this YES SIR NO SIR crap. I don't need it right now. Like I don't need hassle from Saigon and Lieutenants who are as green as my lawn back home. What are those jokers in Saigon doing sending me a green Lieutenant? Green Lieutenants I don't need. What the fuck do they expect me to do with a green Lieutenant?"

"I...I don't understand, sir. What do you mean, sir?"

"I mean why in Christ Almighty's name did they drop you on me? That's what I mean."

"They sent me here to get some combat experience, sir. I volunteered for duty here. I've completed extensive Officer Infantry Training and also a three month induction course..."

The Major clapped his hands in mock applause and said, "Well good for you, son! Everybody wants to be a hero! Come over here and kill yourself a few Communists, get yourself a Purple Heart and a Medal of Honor and you think you got it made for fuck's sake! I don't need this. Not today. Not ever!"

He lit a half smoked cigar and took a large slug of whiskey straight from the bottle. He sighed again as he looked at Jeff and shook his head from side to side in total disbelief.

"Mister Klein, let me try and set you straight on a few points here. This isn't the Battle of the Bulge or the assault on Iwo Jima. This is Vietnam. You're treading on sacred ground. This is a holy war, a war of attrition, and I need experienced men to fight it. You hear me? Experienced men! Not some green Lieutenant who's barely out of his shitty diapers and who thinks he can come over here and play toy soldier games! I need veterans, good veterans, out of Korea, like my Master Sergeant out there in the office. I need men who know how to handle these Commie bastards. But what do I get? A goddamn Lieutenant who's taken..." - he looked at Jeff's list of qualifications on the sheet of paper on his desk - "...a three month induction course in Tropical Zone Warfare? Who the fuck do you think you are? Audie Murphy? the hell am I supposed to do with a jerk like you? You come here to be a hero or something?"