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I never went into Santo Domingo. I should say that first, because the novel I have just finished is set in the city, and a reader is entitled to know where the author was standing. In April of 1965, I was twenty-two years old and serving with the 618th Engineer Company, a support unit within the 82nd Airborne Division. The 618th’s job was air-droppable construction equipment: bulldozers and road graders rigged with parachutes, designed to be put on the ground behind the lead