Who is it? The horror stories I’ve listened to come to mind, bringing with it images of Skinwalkers. Taking a deep, quiet breath and reasoning with ...yself that if it’s a Skinwalker, I’m already dead, I steel my resolve and slowly start to extricate myself from my blankets and bed. I want to be sure of who it is before I wake them. I slowly and smoothly raise one side of the blanket, rolling out from under the covers. I put my feet and catch myself as I fall out of the bed. I lower the covers. Kreiker. I guessed that Sgt. Haskall had found a niche that fit him well enough to give him a happy life, and I wished him well.I found myself constantly in contact with Sally Bradford. The contact was very pleasant, especially after I had relieved some of the pressure on me with a visit to the unofficial fort bordello. This was run by the female head of the laundry and her crew of Negro women provided the stable for the brothel.Sally practically dogged my footsteps around the fort, and we. More

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