November 25, 1972, Saturday

I like taps, it tells me it’s time to dream I can be somewhere else. I am writing this late at night. I am using the moon light. I am supposed to be in my bunk (rack) I need to be careful because the stripes have tripled the recruits that patrol us at night.

Last night after dinner I took a shower. My cloths might stink but I can prevent mold from growing on my skin. I washed my underwear by hand. I hung them on my bunk so they would be dry in the morning. I will never know if they dried, they were stolen. They were yellowish and had a hole in them. I guess somebody needed them more than I did.

This morning was different than the others. There were three times more people yelling at us. There was a sense of urgency to the screaming. The barracks were packed. Men were sleeping on the floors. I had to guard my bunk, if I left it for very long a new recruit would try to occupy it. Fights broke out constantly. I hoped the stench of my cloths mixed with the sheets was a good deterrent. If it wasn’t my own stink, I wouldn’t get near my own bunk. Unfortunately I wasn’t the only guy to suffer from body stink. Over half of us reeked.

After we rambled back from breakfast they made us stand in formation. After standing for a time we could see why they were holding us. They were tearing apart the barracks looking for drugs, good luck I have been looking from the day I arrived. We stood in line in till it was time to march to lunch. They were finished with the search when we rambled back from lunch. The barracks were trashed, it looked like a tornado blew through. They didn’t find any drugs.

Before we could get out of formation they had us count off. One to ten. The first person says. “One” The next is two and down the line to the number ten, then it starts over. The ones gather here. The twos there. The threes. You get the idea. They separated us into work parties, then they turned us lose on the barracks. I was given a broom and told to sweep the outside. By the time we finished, the barracks was spotless. I wish I was, the work made me even more sweaty and smelly. Later.

I could not stand it anymore. I went to the so called master-at-arms. I demanded that he find me a change of clothes or direct me to a laundry facility. This was a big mistake, I didn’t have a chance to inform him that my recruiter assured me that I did not need a change of clothes, or how undignified it was to wear the same cloths for four days. He never heard these points because he was standing over me, yelling how I was lower than worm shit and I had no rights at all. He was having so much fun that his fellow stripes joined in. I had one in each ear yelling and one in my face. I couldn’t understand any of them. What I did understand is, I am ordered to scrub one of the barracks bathrooms, by myself. It was just cleaned, but with four thousand guys, it gets filthy quickly. They led me to the latrine (bathroom) and said I needed to finish cleaning it by the time we formed to eat dinner (they used the word “chow”).

I am used to cleaning, after all my family had an industrial cleaning service company. I started cleaning at age 13. When I finished cleaning the latrine I smelled worse than a nasty unflushed toilet. I said, “Fuck it.” I got under a shower with my clothes on. I lathered up my clothes and rinsed, I repeated it for good measure. It felt good, I felt clean. I was wet but I was clean. What are they going to do send me home?

I went to put away the cleaning tools. My plan was to get outside to dry before I was spotted. I saw the master-at-arms he noticed that I was soaked he wasn’t happy or amused. Note: I don’t think this guy can be amused. Was he impressed by my ingenuity? No those weren’t the words that came out of his mouth, I heard. “You fucking maggot shit! No! You are lower that a maggot shit.” And of course when one stripe starts to scream the others come running to join in. It was six stripes to one, me. I stood as straight as I could and stared straight ahead as I was told. They tagged teamed me for how long I don’t remember. I do remember the end results. They made me stay standing in the hall for a period of forever. That’s what they said, “Maggot get your ass out in the hall and stand at attention, forever!” Those were his words. I was hungry but I knew that food was not going to happen.

As I stood there I was asked two questions by every recruit that walked by. “Where are you from?” And. “How do I get my cloths clean?” Far be it from me to stop the race to cleanliness.

I told anybody that would listen. “Get in the shower soap up rinse, run around the parking lot and dry off. Don’t forget to spread the word.” I said, “Chiefs are fine with it. They don’t want to be bothered. Am I being punished for it? No! This is for something else.”

It didn’t take long for the word to spread. It was thirty minutes to formation, the dinner trek. I could hear the showers running. There was no time to run for dryness so they got in line for dinner, wet.

As the stripes were barking orders at the mob, fruitlessly attempting to get straight lines, they slowly noticed something strange. A few hundred recruits were drenching wet. Water was dripping like a leaky faucet from some of them. After huddling in conference they decided to root out any recruit found wet. They marched the dry recruits to eat. The wet recruits were reassembled and sent to march in circles, forever. They marched I stood there as before.

The rumbling of over four thousand men could be heard a long time before they arrived. When they did arrive I don’t think that they paid attention to the wet men marching aimlessly on the endless, parking lot. They damn sure didn’t pay attention to my plight. Rumors run fast in the military. Some faster than others. The rumor that you were allowed to take a shower with your clothes on, to get them clean, spread like wild fire. The rumor for the case against cleaning your cloths in the shower and feel the wrath of the stripes was slower to get around. By the time the stripes could shut it down over half the men have laundered in the shower. After getting control, a recruit was stationed at each shower entrance. The master-at-arms had 2,400 wet young men to deal with and he wasn’t happy.

Night was coming. When the civilians went on holiday they shut off the heat. It was steam heat, produced from a steam plant on the other side of the base. It takes 24 hours to get enough heat to make a difference. We weren’t deemed important enough to have heat at night, the days were warm enough. Now he had a problem and he thinks I was the reason.

Maggot and lower than maggot were the prevailing words yelled at me. I also heard words to the effect that the officer of the day was on his way and I was in trouble. I stood standing forever like they ordered.

The officer arrived he looked me up and down. I was dry by now.

“Is this the lad?” he asked.

“Yes, sir, this is the worm that caused all the trouble, sir,” he replied.

I had three stripes standing to my left, the officer to my front, the master-at-arms standing in the doorway to my right, I stared forward. I was flabbergasted by all the attention I have drawn. I wanted to laugh, I knew better. The officer looked at the master-at-arms. “Let’s talk, Chief.” They walked into the office. I could hear them.

“What proof do you have that this is his doing, Roy?” the officer said.

“I just know he did it” was the answer.

“Look, Roy, you yourself told me he has been standing here all afternoon and evening.”

I could not make out what the master guy was mumbling. I could hear him being cut off. “I don’t have time for the paperwork involved here, Roy. Unless you can prove he started this, we have nothing. Stand this lad down.” He turned and proceeded to exit, he stopped to give me a look of disdain, and he walked away. The master-at-arms called me into his office, the other strips were staring daggers at me. He told me I was dismissed. I walked away as quick as I could.

So here I am trying to write all this down before I get caught. And get a smoke in. I think I hear a patrol coming I have to go. Later.