“My brother and I are Basque, you know. We came from the Pyrenees before the second world war,” Armando explained.
“Really,” I said. “What did you do when you came over here?”
“Well,” he replied, “I went to work for the OSS.”
“The OSS?” I knew what the OSS was…the Office of Strategic Services, the military intelligence agency during World War II. I know my WWII history pretty well, and since I also believe that in my last life I may have been the pilot of a B-24 Liberator in Europe and was shot down over Belgium in August 1944, I could converse fairly intelligently with him on the subject.
“The OSS?” I said. “Did you ever meet the director, Bill Donovan?”
“‘Wild Bill’ Donovan? Of course…I met with him several times in the President’s office.”
“The President’s office? Which president do you mean?”
“Why President Roosevelt’s office. The Oval Office. The White House…”
