Published: May 1, 2005
That night, when I walked into the military police office hauling a GI who’d fallen victim to the demon rum, Sergeant Martin took one look and gasped, “My God, Janko, what have you done?”
“What have I done? You should see what this guy did. He’s had about a hundred too many, and he just about wrecked the Goldener Engel on Nürnberger Strasse.”
Sergeant Martin shook his head. “Don’t you guys from New York know nothin’? Can’t you see this guy’s from Payroll? You never mess with anybody from Payroll. Last year, Runyon brought one in and they sent his payroll record to Samoa. He didn’t get no...
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