I was on an upstairs floor of a department store.  Sharon Ferguson was in the vicinity.  Somehow we got the word that there was a fire in the building-downstairs, so we couldn't get out.  Everyone was told to keep as low to the floor as possible, to avoid smoke inhalation.  So everyone sat down on the floor, not seeing much smoke and expecting the sprinkler system to start at any moment.  The floor we were on was empty, like a warehouse.  When I finally left that building, I was with Henry Kissinger and a couple of other guys, whom I knew but don't remember now.  We were going somewhere with several other people, but I chose to go with this group so that I could write home and say I had ridden with Kissinger.  When I got to their car, they were already in it -- two in the front seat and two in the back -- of a Karman Ghia.  I was disappointed and said I had better ride with someone else.  They said I could squeeze in for the short ride, though, so I piled in on top of someone in what I thought was the back seat but turned out to be the front when we drove away.  I think Gaylen Tuttleson was driving.    With this group or possibly another (the transition is hazy), I arrived at a building where some sort of military conference was to take place.  The building was at the top of a long and fairly high incline.  Those with me went up ahead of me without much trouble.  One of them was Ron Nadner, and I thought, "Surely if he can make it, so can I."  But my legs failed me.  I tried crawling, but had to depend on my arms to pull me along, and pretty soon they too gave out.  One of the guys who had gone up ahead of me taunted me by crawling back down past me to the bottom, then back up past me again.  Somehow I finally made it by getting off that main track and going up alongside it-or alternating between the two, I'm not sure.    When we got into the hall, there was a big meeting in progress.  I stopped in the foyer and was talking to some of the guys there.  We could see the audience through glass windows and open doors.  I guess I was talking too loud and had to be shushed.  Bob McNamara was one of the guys in the foyer, as was Rick Klaustermann.  I had on a khaki uniform, and all of a sudden noticed that instead of my captain's bars, I had on subdued (fatigue-type) insignia.  And one of them, part of a clasp, was missing or dangling loosely.  Somehow I was able to figure out how it was that I had those insignia, but I felt I shouldn't be wearing them there.  There was another problem:  my beard-which no one had seemed to notice.  I asked a couple of people about these problems, but no one seemed interested.  One guy, not in uniform, suggested I pick up the captain's bars at the PX.  But I told him I wasn't on active duty and didn't have an ID card.  It seemed that everyone around was in one or another secret outfit.