90+% of my Army graduating class was sent over to Germany to man the nuke sites as security. I was relieved my “overseas” assignment was Hawaii ( and not the stinking 25th ID like the other two chumps got but my near dream assignment to a Field Station intelligence gathering facility ). How lucky can you get? Well, perhaps I WASN’T lucky but it felt like it at the time. I do ponder how my life might not have been comprised of such a crap sandwich if I had gone to West Germany and followed a different path, but who can say. The assignment was easy, even though it was so easy all the putz officers acted like little cubicle bitches trying to stir up enough drama to make themselves look promotion worthy. I quickly became disillusioned and started with a really crappy attitude and soon found myself transferred to another squad. Third Herd, all the malcontents. There I found a home and quickly embraced near non-stop drinking ( root beer schnapps and a can of soda leave no alcohol breath and allow on the job drinking. Just don’t try until you have a good tolerance ) and illicit drug use. Not that I was pressured. I eagerly embraced poor behavior and mind numbing time passage. I thought I was started on a career and instead found myself in an insane asylum run by retards. I wanted little more to do with them. So I spent my Hawaiian vacation drunk and stoned ( with the typical cop attitude that I was above the law if I so chose ).
I got out at just shy of three years ( Congressional authorized Early Outs to save money ). Rudderless, I took the first job that was easy-watching the gas pumps on a midnight shift. As a franchisee the place had to stay open all night but I typically had no customers. My only real job was to stay awake and I always brought a stack of Library and Loompanics books and since I rented a cheap room and had no bills I drifted for about six months effortlessly. Then, on no more than a whim, I drifted up north from the mid-coast to the mountains. Happy Camp, California. A real place. About a thousand population back in the mid 80’s. That was fun. I worked at a video store, reading in between customers and watching movies after closing. I met an ex-con who turned me on to the Lee-Enfield and a unemployed gold prospector who was a real hoot. Poached a deer by the river when he got hungry. Back then, California hadn’t turned so serious and moody.
After about a year I once again felt restless and got fired from a piss poor attitude ( my only job ever that I got canned. I learned to be more kiss-ass afterwards ). Having a serious attack of dumpishness, I re-upped in the Army ( no more jobs available in town ). I thought I was going to hate it and it still took me by surprise how much so. I was sent to Korea to Camp Casey and the 2nd ID. What a bunch of stick up the ass wanna-be Jarheads. God! I loved the prostitutes ( $800 wages a month and a half hour was $15. Overnight only $30. Plus you were strongly encouraged to by $5 Pink Ladies for her beforehand- which was still darn cheap for our earning power ). And the culture was way cool. But I couldn’t wait to get away from these asswhores. The Sarge made the mistake of berate us on a grueling run to tell him if we wanted out because we couldn’t hack it and I had no pride and took him up on it. Made his life miserable for months until I finally found something that made them want to kick me out ( a fake set-up suicide attempt. The Captain wasn’t buying it but was up for promotion and needed to keep this embarrassment in unit, so I got an “under honorable conditions” discharge ). Then I went back to worthless civilian time wasting jobs, which I know you can’t wait to hear about. More next time.
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