{"product_id":"2940011832505","title":"LAUGHING WAR","description":"Originally published by Doubleday. Bien Hoa airbase, outside Saigon,\u003cbr\u003ewasn't a very funny place, but Barney's  job had one advantage:  he always\u003cbr\u003eplayed to a packed house. The soldiers  flocked to his shows, and the war-zone\u003cbr\u003ecomedian coaxed his battle-weary audiences first into chuckles and then\u003cbr\u003einto guffaws of healing laughter with material drawn from the lunacy around\u003cbr\u003ethem: the little old VC with the single-shot rifle taking potshots at the jets, the\u003cbr\u003einternational \"peace-keeping\" mission,  the Vietnamese \"car wash\" racket, the numbing routine of army life,the officers...\u003cbr\u003e  ...One officer in particular: Colonel Isaacs, the blood-and-guts commander\u003cbr\u003eof the base, a driven man whose soldiers pay the price of his obsessions.\u003cbr\u003eBarney  often ridiculed his authority from in front of the footlights, and after\u003cbr\u003ehours he wooed the colonel's woman, Donna, a beautiful singer with a secret.\u003cbr\u003eSo far, he had gone unpunished...\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\". . . the band began blasting out an off-key Colonel Bogey\u003cbr\u003eMarch. The audience went wild. But at this point in the eve-\u003cbr\u003ening they usually went wild over almost anything…….\u003cbr\u003e   And so Colonel Bogey races across the flatness like a\u003cbr\u003etide seeking shore. It is louder than even the laughter and the\u003cbr\u003estrange yelling that comes from the Club and is momentarily\u003cbr\u003elost in the unearthly whine of the F-lOOs as they return from\u003cbr\u003ebombing whatever it is that has to be bombed. Colonel Bogey\u003cbr\u003ewashes over the lone sentries and rushes on into the darkness\u003cbr\u003ethat lies beyond the perimeter. The darkness stretches on and\u003cbr\u003eon, beyond the wretches lying soaked and bloody in the swamp\u003cbr\u003enear Cambodia listening to the metallic voices in the headset\u003cbr\u003ethat tell them why the F-lOOs cannot come back until dawn,\u003cbr\u003eand listening to the noises in the nearby jungle that might be\u003cbr\u003emetal grating on metal. The darkness goes on forever. But the\u003cbr\u003enineteen-year-old from Georgia can no longer hear the curling\u003cbr\u003echords of Jimi Hendrix s guitar as the Armed Forces Radio\u003cbr\u003ebrings him the Best in Rock.  The nineteen-year-old from\u003cbr\u003eGeorgia can hear none of this. A long thin knife protrudes from\u003cbr\u003ehis chest at the place where his flak jacket should have been\u003cbr\u003ebuckled. Thin bubbles of blood drip from his mouth. In his\u003cbr\u003efinal act as a sentry, he has died with his eyes wide open.\"","brand":"Author","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":47168651854064,"sku":"2940011832505","price":6.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0737\/7593\/9824\/files\/2940011832505_p0.jpg?v=1763550323","url":"https:\/\/shop-qa.barnesandnoble.com\/products\/2940011832505","provider":"Barnes \u0026 Noble (DEV)","version":"1.0","type":"link"}