A guy from MP school and Airborne training, got transferred to Germany from Ft. Benning. He wrote me a letter at some point describing his new duty station. It was not much different from a military perspective but while I was basking in the sunshine and the swaying palms on Oahu, he was October-festing with Bratwurst at the Hofbrau. One of the benefits of being stationed in Germany was the relative abundance of Turkish hashish, or hash. He said he could get me some really cheap, so I responded in the affirmative, as they like to say in the military. I sent him a hundred bucks and soon he responded with shipment. Now remember that I live among the Military Police and so did he. Within 2 weeks I had a small package delivered to me from Germany. I picked it up in the mail room and waited for about a day before I opened it just in case it had been flagged. Inside the package was a bottle of Lea & Perrins Worcestershire Sauce. I...
Reality My plane landed at Lambert field at 6:42 am after an overnight flight from Los Angeles. That was the last leg of a very long flight originating in Honolulu the previous morning. My three-year stint in the US Army ended with little fanfare. On day I was an olive drab soldier at the end of the Viet Nam era and the next day I was back in civvies. I had avoided serving in Viet Nam. Thank God for that. I knew lots of guys who went to “the Nam” and came back different. It was like they were shell-shocked some of the time. There was a distant look in their eyes some of the time only to be brought back to awareness of their surroundings by interaction with their Army buddies. To a man, they found refuge in either booze or marijuana. Sometimes both. I found that same refuge but not from war. My demons weren’t nearly as traumatic, but they were still there. The girl at the end of the rainbow in Pago Pago had rejected me. I was home now. Back to the womb. Back to a little subu...