Clinton St. Quarterly, Vol. 5 No. 3 | Fall 1983 (Seattle) /// Issue 5 of 24 /// Master# 53 of 73

I here were only a few clouds in the sky, and except for that it was clear and hot. ■ Leo Pollock walked out from the hootch through the dust and sand over to the Jtgravel road that circled the compound. He walked out past the studio building. It was an unusual building, simple, but difficult to identify. It looked secretive. It was slightly raised from the ground with three steps leading to the front and only door. There were no windows, though an air conditioner jutted through one wall. One had to be very close to see the sign, “Armed Forces Vietnam Network.” Slightly behind it and to the right was a smaller building that housed the transmitter. Behind the buildings and far above them loomed the radio tower, an antenna both immense and fragile. Its sections of triangular tubing were painted in alternating red and white stripes for visibility. Red lights along the tubing blinked to alert low-flying aircraft. Partly exposed ground wires shot out from the base like roots through the yellow sand. By Ronald Netherton-Johnson Drawing by Dana Hoyle