June 5, 1973, Tuesday

I packed my seabag. The only civilian clothes I took were the ones I’m wearing. The guys gave me a lift to the base. We had a sad good bye, they were hopping I would stay longer. I wasn’t sure where to surrender myself. I was sure that I would be assigned to some sort a confinement in till they figure out what to do with me. From all the information I had, I thought they would give me a Court Martial. Sentence me to thirty days in the brig. Then discharge me, I hope.

I decide that the last place I was at would be the first place to start, Service School Command. My thinking is they would love to have another crack at me. Working Party indeed, this one would stick, here I am.

I went to the school headquarters. I walked into the first office. I told the First Class Petty officer who I was and what I was doing here. He said he remembers me, they haven’t assigned a single working party since then. I said, “Good, now where am I supposed to go?” He had no idea what to do. He went in the back offices. The chief came out, he told me to go to the Contact Center. I borrowed a locker and a lock to store my bag.

The people at the Contact Center. Had no idea what to do either. I saw Silvia the blonde beauty at Padre’s parties. Silvia told me the navy rescinded my original orders. I am in limbo. I asked her how long it takes to get a new set of orders. Sylvia said it works this way: The officer in charge of your unit puts in a request for transfer, that transfer comes to this side of this office.

This side sends it to an office in downtown San Diego. Downtown San Diego sends it to Washington, DC. When DC is finished processing the transfer they mail it back to downtown San Diego. Downtown San Diego mails it back here to the other side of this office. They deliver the transfer to the unit commander that requested it in the first place. This process takes about three weeks, it can be expedited too slightly over two weeks.

The OD at the contact center said I should go back to the school. They have no orders for me here.

I went back to the school, they still didn’t know what I should do. I decided to go eat lunch. When I came back nothing changed. They called the transit barracks, the chief told them not to send me over there, because I wouldn’t be admitted without official orders.

I opened the locker to get cigarettes out of my bag. My bag was not there. I asked the petty officer what happened to it. He said he didn’t know. The chief said the same thing. How the fuck can you not have seen somebody open this locker I said pissed off, what the fuck! They told me if I don’t calm down they may have to write me up. I said call the SP’s, I want them to investigate, that’s why I’m here to get wrote up you mother fuckers! Now what happened to my seabag?

The chief said they couldn’t help me I needed to go someplace else. They both walked down the hall to a back office, I was left alone.

Paul was just getting out of class. I told him what happened. We had a good laugh. I said maybe seven days isn’t enough to get noticed. He give me a ride back to the beach. Later.

The guys were overjoyed that I was back, Paul stayed and we had a party. Later.