During the Vietnam war, Danny served as an Army medic—in northern Italy. The most dangerous thing he did, he joked, was administer first-aid to officers’ wives who’d sprained their ankles while skiing in the Dolomites. Later on he worked for a man who had been intelligence specialist in ’67, stationed along the wall at Checkpoint Charlie. Sometimes they would get together and talk about the Army, because outsiders never understood just how cold the cold war was.
When the Wall fell, Danny called his friend, but he was drunk, laughing and crying, and singing a bawdy bar song in German.