It was a hot summer day in humid Okinawa and I had a hard time getting to sleep for going to bed at 3:00 AM. It seemed like a dream after just falling to sleep when this dude raps on my door waking up everybody in the barracks. Those walls were so thin that I could hear a guy roll over in his bed across the hall.
I really got embarrassed when someone knocked on my door or shouted at me from the corridor and had to answer with all celerity for respect to other mid-workers sleeping in this wing of the billets. Dream-like memories started flooding my mind like on death-row. This had happened many times before; I always seemed to oversleep for latrine detail and "lucked-out" when the squad-leader wok me without "writing me up," like I had brown-nosed him or was his friend. I also had a friend that would come over and wake me, but I thought he had been trained by now so didn't think it was him.
I really got embarrassed when someone knocked on my door or shouted at me from the corridor and had to answer with all celerity for respect to other mid-workers sleeping in this wing of the billets. Dream-like memories started flooding my mind like on death-row. This had happened many times before; I always seemed to oversleep for latrine detail and "lucked-out" when the squad-leader wok me without "writing me up," like I had brown-nosed him or was his friend. I also had a friend that would come over and wake me, but I thought he had been trained by now so didn't think it was him.
This had only taken a second or two and I was already jumping out of bed, scrambling for the door, the usual: "just a minute" in my "pass-the-butter" voice as I heard him say my name, recognizing the company clerk. This was their way of letting us know it was important; it could've been anything; he knew everybody's personal business being a messenger-boy.
I was told to call the commanding officer. He never knew anyone's schedule and didn't care if he would've. I put on some civvies, usually just thrown over my chair, and was trying to wake up before this started to hit me. I must've been bitter if awake; it was fortunate to have a good disposition. Calling the CO [commanding officer] made me feel important. I used the line where no one would hear.
"We need to discuss this with the Chaplain, Broberg."
He made an appointment for half an hour in his atelier. I was still in a daze going up to my room to finish dressing. I came back down in ten minutes to wait and had twenty minutes to kill when a friend came in to talk for fifteen minutes. We had a little "mutual-admiration society" going about the captain. The last time I talked with the chaplain had been over a discrepancy.
I already knew him; he thought a lot of me for being a Sunday School teacher. I remembered the time they thought I was shooting heroin because my urinalysis showed up positive. The chap and I knew the system "it's accurate enough for the Army." I had to shake hands after saluting affecting a congenial atmosphere; I was ready to talk; I didn't have a notion about what.
"It's your dad. Your gramma sent a wire via the Red Cross."
"Is he in the mental hospital again?"
"He shot himself in the head."
"Sounds like my dad alright."
I was told to call the commanding officer. He never knew anyone's schedule and didn't care if he would've. I put on some civvies, usually just thrown over my chair, and was trying to wake up before this started to hit me. I must've been bitter if awake; it was fortunate to have a good disposition. Calling the CO [commanding officer] made me feel important. I used the line where no one would hear.
"We need to discuss this with the Chaplain, Broberg."
He made an appointment for half an hour in his atelier. I was still in a daze going up to my room to finish dressing. I came back down in ten minutes to wait and had twenty minutes to kill when a friend came in to talk for fifteen minutes. We had a little "mutual-admiration society" going about the captain. The last time I talked with the chaplain had been over a discrepancy.
I already knew him; he thought a lot of me for being a Sunday School teacher. I remembered the time they thought I was shooting heroin because my urinalysis showed up positive. The chap and I knew the system "it's accurate enough for the Army." I had to shake hands after saluting affecting a congenial atmosphere; I was ready to talk; I didn't have a notion about what.
"It's your dad. Your gramma sent a wire via the Red Cross."
"Is he in the mental hospital again?"
"He shot himself in the head."
"Sounds like my dad alright."
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