When I got out of the Army in June 1970, I wanted no further interaction with any arm of the military. I assumed they all felt the same. As anyone who has read McCurry’s War – which is a novel but based on my experiences in West Berlin – knows, I wasn’t the easiest guy to get along with those in the upper echelon of the military or the NSA.
Thus, you can imagine my amazement when, nearly four months after my discharge, I got this letter from the CIA. I don’t know who informed Mr. Bolin that I might be interested in a position with the U.S. Central Intelligence Agency, but I know it wasn’t I. Maybe it was some trickster like Gene “P Wrap” Brown. It would have been right up his alley.
The CIA should have known that I am not big on obeying orders, so I sure as heck wasn’t going to pay any attention to Mr. Bolin’s request to “not openly discuss this correspondence.” I didn’t ask for the “correspondence,” so I framed it and hung it up in my office. It now hangs in the hallway entrance to our home.
I never heard from them again.