No more GTO. That was it. I figured
there was something terribly wrong with me.
Dumbass that I was, I made an appointment with
the Chaplain ("Protestant or Catholic?")
at Mayport Navy Base to discuss the possibility
that I was queer bait - or something like that.
Worse?
The Chaplain got my story, then told me to come
back later, made an appiontment for a specific time. I showed up
and had to sit in the waiting room. Another
sailor appeared who was obviously there to entrap me. He was engorged
and on display. He was groping. He
was massaging his dong right in the chair next to me. Then he pulled
it right out
and went into the bathroom. At that point
the whole thing had gone past bizarre. I was an ignorant little country
boy
from Tennessee barely out of the sunday school.
I call the Chaplain, and NOW THIS? I left. Next thing,
I was
ordered to NAS Jax to see a military shrink.
The good doctor wrote a note and placed it conspicuously
RIGHT ON TOP of my entire record saying that I exhibited
"ego alien sexual tendencies". Next thing
I know, the CO of my base is reading psychology books. Hmmmm.
So he calls
me in and says he has nothing against me and
likes me fine. And I'm his best communications guy), but that he
saw those
comments from the doctor and that he was bound
by duty to the nation and to "GHAWD" to relieve me of my rank and my job.
I was required to testify before a "military
board" consiting of (I forgot) about twenty people. It was held in
a gymnasium.
Right in the middle of the gym was one straight
chair. That's where I sat. At the side, next to a wall, was
a long, official-looking
table where the twenty officers sat. We
had to yell at the top of our lungs in order to be heard. They asked
me questions like,
"Do you swallow the cum or spit it out?"
(The answer was "...neither. I'm was just trying to keep from getting
screwed and it
got out of hand!") They accused.
They insinuated. They drew bogus conclusions. They put words
in my mouth (better than
a tongue). etc etc When I had been
sufficiently humiliated and embarrassed, the inquiry ended with all the
officers shaking
their heads (as in disbelief) and guffawing.
Obviously, they knew FAR more about me than I knew about myself.
Or so they
thought, and they were willing to do ANYTHING
based on their bogus assumptions.
I was stripped of my rank, ordered to leave the
station, re-assigned to scaping barnacles and scrubbing oil dumps (bilges)
at another base while my discharge was processed.
At that new base, everyone knew why I was there (the officials made
sure of it) and though everyone mocked and ridiculed
me in public, when they got me alone, they all tried to screw me.
Yes again, officers, enlisted men, civilian employees.
It's was, as always, "Let's screw Bob!" Then they would all get back
together in the group and begin tormenting and
harrassing me again in order to prove their manhood. They would do
things
like send me out to take down the flag during
a violent thunderstorm (lightning frequently struck the flag pole).
And they would
send me down into the sewer and close the lid.
Ha! Ha! HAAA! My discharge had been ready for months, but they were
harrassing me and USING me for dirty work.
It went on for almost a year. I complained a lot.
Then, one day two MPs with guns drawn came into
the barracks and arrested me "for my own protection" and took me to
the Marine Brig at NAS Jax where I was imprisoned
with murderers, traitors, rapists and various others of questionable character.
They all tried to screw me, too. I'm not
one to be messed with, so I told every visiting officer that I was "falsely
imprisoned" and
that I would "hold you responsible, because now
you know". They all laughed derisively: Ha Ha HAAA! One day
I was going
somewhere out of the brig, assigned to scrape
dog shit off of an officers foot, or something, and the chaser (a person
assigned to
walk three paces behind prisoners with a billy
stick during transport) was also being kicked out for being gay.
And he was being
harrassed. I told him the story and he
took me to a phone booth and gave me a dime. I called the Legal Officer
of the base and
told HIM the story.
I was out of the brig within fifteen minutes
and my discharge was signed and completed by the end of the day.
The Commanding
Officer of my base lost a couple of stripes and
a lot of money, but I was out of there. I don't know what happened
to everyone else,
but I'm assume they spent the rest of their careers
screwing each other.
That year, the USS Rooosevelt (parked right outside
my window at Mayport) had come back from a Med Cruise (Six Months
to the Mediterranean). I heard that over
one-third of the crew was discharged for homosexuality when the carrier
returned home.
I understood, also, that it was routine.
Every time one of the carriers - The Roosevelt, the Enterprise, whatever
- returned from
an extended cruise back to Mayport, about 1/3
of the crew was discharged. That's over one-thousand men, by the
way.
There are several hundred Marine security folks
on each carrier. There's a saying down there: "If it weren't for
the Navy,
the Marines would starve to death!"
The military is obsessed with sex because they
do it all the time. And that is my story which, I'm sure,
you didn't read because it is embarrassingly
long and I am crazy. Why, I ask you, wouldn't I be?
yours truly
Bob
(The financial idiots at DELL gave me credit.
I ordered a new computer so I can do "uppitynigger.com".)
Bob, I've always said a good sense of humor will get you thru anything.
You seemed to be proof of that.
Hang in there, and let me know when you get your web site going.