Highly enjoyable read thus far, posting to subscribe.

WTF! lol

When I think back on our little staged melodrama it seems pretty comical today. We told the two "sailors" that if they harassed anyone again we would tell the crazy guy to burn them up in their sleep. Even if it wasn't true, they stayed under the radar for the rest of their time. As an added benefit, our "skit" made everyone else look at us with renewed wonder and helped me get chosen for several adventures planned for the future. (As another aside, this is when I began having ESP like visions which I still have to this day and helped me win the match sticks in the card games we played at night, (among other things...).

After sitting around the barracks for a couple of days, I was assigned the job that I would keep for the rest of my stay. I was given the task of working at the non-com liquor store making drinks for the Chiefs who stopped in each day. I suppose it was because I was in 191 and nobody really cared what we did or said, but my job was to go up in the attic, bring down the bottles and mix the drinks for these old guys (they were in their forties, lol.), in a room in the back. They would tell me all about their adventures at sea and I would regal them with my even wilder adventures living in communes and hitching around the country.

They had tough exteriors, but each one of them were really great guys. They liked to have laugh and I felt like I could actually trust them. They knew how I felt about the Navy, but they didn't really care. This was the first time that I ever trusted anyone over twenty; it's funny that it was a bunch of rough, cussing tough guys, who pretty much stood for the exact opposite from everything I believed. Tyler was growing up, I was almost nineteen.

This thread is amazing. I am very much looking forward to reading more.

wow bestest blog ever thanks for writing tylertwo

You're testing people with the ESP visions. Some people around here only like to believe things that are possible.

Is this what you get with ESPs ?

Maybe, maybe not, lol.

Thank you everybody for your kind words, I really appreciate them. I will talk about the ESP things, but I really think they started before 191. I do believe that we opened up the doors of perception during those years and that there are things that can't (as of yet) be explained rationally. Those "trips" have influenced my thinking since then, but I am well aware that many doubt their truth.

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Most guys stayed in 191 for about five weeks before they were sent home. I had already been there for six weeks when I finally got the notice of my Captain's Mast, the formal process where they decide that you are unfit for service. I knew that it was important that I be given an Undesirable Discharge, so the I would be given a 4F classification when I got out. If I went through my Mast and was given a General Discharge, I would keep my 1A and be forced right back into the draft.

So I began my plans to make sure that I would receive my 4F, without getting into so much trouble that they would lock me up for years. I was already being called a "lifer", a term we used for people who got lost in the system and I really wanted to leave the Navy, grow my hair back and go back on the road.

I kept the plans to wear the uniform that I found to my Mast in my head. I knew that if it got out, they would search my locker and put an end to my idea. Although I wasn't scheduled until later in the day, I left early in the morning, before the Chief and Sargent at Arms were up, dressed as a lieutenant and started off across the base. I wasn't too worried about being able to act like an officer, I'd seen enough of them since coming out of basic. The only thing that I knew would give me away was my haircut, the boot camp shave, that was the sure sign of somebody new to the service. I figured that I would just keep my hat on as long as possible and spend the morning messing around before the serious part began.

I smoked a little before I set out (Yes, everything was easily available, even then.), thinking that might put me in the right frame of mind and started off across the parking lot. I saw two guys walking along and recognized them from my basic training unit so I called them over. They ran up to me and saluted and then a true look of wonder crossed over their faces. I started laughing and told them that I was just too smart for basic and I had been promoted quickly. (I also told them that I expected to make Admiral within the month.) They were on the base side handling health stuff and I'm sure when they returned they had an unbelievable story to tell the guys in my unit.

I got to my Mast a little late, so they were waiting for me when I got there. The lower officers, who were running things, freaked out when they saw me in the uniform, but the important people at the head of the table just wanted to get it over with. They let me go before them wearing the only clothes that I had, so I tried not to act too haughty while I told my story. It was then that I got another surprise (The Navy was forever surprising me.), they all wanted to focus on one word that I had written.

Before your Mast, you had to write out an admission of your crimes, (lol) so of course I wrote a trip report about hitching to the festival and then hitching home. (actually I got arrested coming home and had a short stay in Ohio, but that's another story...) The officers were very nice to me and loved my story as I stood before them and told them about free love, free music and free LSD. Some of them could not believe that the acid that I took was free, they believed that there was a profit motve in everything and it tested their "truths" that for that short moment in time, things were different.

And yes, I noticed a bit of envy in their eyes...

By the time I was done and had convinced them that everything was indeed free, I was ready for their decision. They seemed nice enough and wanted to give me the less onerous discharge, but they were surprised when I told that I wanted the UD and not the General. When I explained to them my reasons they were happy enough (my counsel was not, lol) to comply. I was finally going home and no more worries about the draft!

They had an officer drive me back and wait for the uniform as I changed, while the Chief in charge of my unit sort of chuckled in the back. I wanted to use that uniform to get into the officers club, but again my hair would have given me away. I needed a better plan next time.

Although most people get to leave shortly after their Mast, unfortunately my paperwork was again lost and I was there for three and a half more months. Oh, the troubles I've seen... (or is that done?)

My first grand adventure after the proceedings was to sneak of base. The Non Com in charge of the barracks needed some garden work done and he asked five of us if we would like to work at his house. Jumping at the chance to get out of there, of course we said yes. The trick was, he would bring his truck to 191 and we would duck in the back under all these branches he had piled in there and then he would drive through security.

Because security was looking for people/stuff being smuggled onto base, it was felt that getting off was the easy part. It felt just like that movie as we hid in all those evergreen branches and the guards ushered us through. I remember looking out after we went through those gates and thinking that I just might make a run for it, because I was really tired of being locked up. But, I also knew that the Chief trusted us and he was one of the few who really did. So I stayed in the truck with the others and relished the idea of just that little bit of freedom.

He took us to his house, we did a little work, his wife fed us lunch and then it was decided that, because we were free for the day, we would have a little fun.

30 days without water? Am I missing something?!

We found water, but it was rarely enough. I think that at a few of those critical times they may have "seeded" the rock outcroppings so we didn't die, but who knows. The one time that we walked for most of the day and the water wasn't there was bad. I complained the entire way to the next set of rocks. (While they told us that there probably wouldn't be any water there either.)

I do know that my young skin shriveled up like a prune at the time. (I doubt it would come back at my age now, lol.)

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We decided that we should cross the border into Mexico and have ourselves a quick adventure before we went back to base. I had crossed many times as a kid (born and raised in South El Paso), so I knew we wouldn't need any paperwork to cross either way. As long as you could speak English, the border was wide open to you.

He drove the truck to the Tijuana border and we piled out. As the Chief was backing the truck into the lot, it suddenly began rolling faster and faster backwards, towards the other end. I could see his eyes get big and I realized that he wasn't going to be able to stop. We all began running after the truck, but before we could reach it, we heard a crash and it was no longer moving. He had hit another car and dumped most of the branches out on top of it.

Knowing that we were technically escapees from a Federal Institution, obviously trying to cross the border into Mexico and high as kites, we immediately panicked and took off running. Our Chief jumped out of the truck and told us to stop running, where in the world were we going to go?

Not wanting him to get into any more trouble, we decided to put the branches back in the truck, pile back in and get out of there. That would have been a good plan, but then the police pulled up. I still wasn't too worried, because the local police rarely got involved with military matters and the military always tried to stay out of local affairs.

I had been saved many times as a wild drunk twelve and thirteen year old, by the Army police from Fort Bliss. Drunk (American) soldiers would harass us over in Juarez and the MP's would step in and help us out every time. (Later, parent groups would patrol the bars there to keep the kids out, lol.) So, I knew as long as the Navy police didn't show up, we would probably be okay.

Sure enough, the police did not want to be involved, so they let us clean up the mess, jump back in the truck a drive back to base. The real worry was getting back onto base, because the guards at the gate we're looking for contraband (I assume), so they were more thorough in their search of vehicles going back in. Luckily, the Chief knew the guard at one of the gates, talked his way in and even though I was sweating getting caught, we were back at 191.

If I left out the part where I could read minds, it would only be part of the story. I noticed early in my intergalactic traveling that I had a certain aptitude for tripping the light fantastic that others did not have. People started coming to me to guide them in their travels, helping them to view the positive sights and lead them away from any negative energy. I hitched around the country, stopping at various communes, giving free lessons on safe travel.

It was the first time in my life that I felt accepted and it is the main reason that I have such fond memories for those early days. My mind, which was so different from everyone else, suddenly became to these people a force of nature. All these adults would sit around listening to me, a little kid, talking about adventures that could only happen inside your mind and only be taken by the very brave.

It was at this time that I began having visions that seemed to enable me to know what other people were thinking at certain times. No, I don't believe it's controllable (at least for me), nor do I accept these "seers" who go around the country and prey on people who have lost loved ones, asking for money. But. I do know that there are many things "under the sun", that we don't understand and I do believe we have only scratched the surface when it comes to the study of the human mind.

At 191, it began popping up in our nightly card games when I told someone that I could tell him what cards he had in his hand. When I did, somebody else asked and I told him also. This caused a little stir, so another guy asked, but this time I could tell that he was thinking of a completely different card, while holding his real card in his hand.

I'm not sure why it was so clear, it had never been anything like that before. Usually, thoughts would wander through my head, only making sense part of the time, certainly not "mind reading" in the traditional sense. This time it was as if I could see the card in his hand, see the card he was thinking of and know for sure I wasn't wrong. When I told him both cards, the barracks went wild.

They immediately sent for the Sargent at Arms, who proceeded to question me with cards of his own, but I, worried that I was going to get in trouble, just made up answers. He walked off quickly, but the people around me knew what I had done and they knew that they had witnessed something that is not really explainable in the normal world. For he rest of my days in the Navy, this strange ability would be one of the driving forces in my experience and would lead to my second Captain's Mast, which I believe was a first (and maybe a last, lol) for the US services. Tylertwo goes to war! (okay, it was just me against the officers, but it seemed like war to me...)

well this is fun to read, I enjoy your writing tyler

tyler you really have been a great addition to the forum over the last year or so

fascinating blog

Thanks, I appreciate it.

The beginning of the end started with my "card reading". Somehow, the story got out to the officer in charge of the unit (who we rarely saw) and he decided to come meet me and see if what he had heard was true.

Unfortunately, when he arrived it was well after hours and even though I was not supposed to be off grounds, I was nowhere to be found. After a brief search they found me with a couple of friends tripping behind the unit fence, laying on the ground laughing. When he walked up to me I couldn't really respond to his orders so he just walked off mad. It was after this that it was decided that we would be required to wear, what they thought of as a mark of shame on our shirts.

We had to stencil "191" on the back, so that everyone on base would know who we were. We loved this idea! We already considered ourselves special, so labeling us with that number was even better. Without the Chief in charge knowing, we decided to take it a little further and put the nicknames that we used for each other on the back, but down far enough that when our shirts were tucked in all the way, no one could see it.

The name that everyone called me was "crazy", although I have no idea why. We each paraded around in our newly customized clothes that night, excited to try them out the next day. Of course, it didn't take long for the Chief to find out, but like he had done a hundred times before, he just gave a deep sigh and went back to his reading. I can only imagine today what he must have done to get put in charge of a bunch of "hippys", whose only care in life was to get back to being full time space travelers. But, he was one of the good guys also, always kind to everyone, even if he always had that bemused look on his face.

Our shirts did not go over well, probably because some of us were a little too obvious in letting them get untucked, so of course another stir was created. The good thing about the service is that it takes awhile to order any new changes , so I figured I'd be long gone before I saw the officer in charge again.

The Chiefs at the package liquor store thought the labeling was funny and they started calling me by my nickname as well. It was then that I got the idea to leave my mark on the base with something that would leave the others talking. Not really vandalism, just something to prove that this "lifer" spent almost six months of his life there and those were years I would never get back.

In the time I spent at the liquor store, serving all those non coms in the back, we had become pretty close. I had always been a likable scamp when I was young and I pretty much got along with everybody that I met, as long as they accepted me for the odd kid that I was. They knew that my paperwork had been lost (maybe on purpose) and they decided that they would try to help me out. Those gruff guys started a petition, complaining about my treatment and the delay, even though they probably disagreed with me on every issue that was in the news at the time.

I appreciated their caring, even when they complained too much about me being slow at mixing their drinks, lol. And in all their goodnatured teasing I learned there was good in most people, even people over twenty five!

The petition reached somebody important, because I was called back to my lawyers and told that my discharge was being reviewed. The Chiefs did not like my Undesirable Discharge, because they thought it would hurt my chances for the future. When I explained my reason for wanting it to my lawyer, he said that there was probably a loophole that could be used to prevent the draft from coming after me and still be released under honorable conditions. It was similar to Conscientious Objector status and left you off the draft roles with the coveted 4F.

So I was scheduled for a second Mast, which I credit today directly to those guys in back of the liquor store. Who says learning to make the perfect Scotch On Rocks won't get you anywhere? Of course, it crossed my mind to get another officer's uniform to go to the second Mast, (with a promotion, of course!) but I decided that I, in deference to the Chiefs efforts, I wouldn't rock the boat.

I went to my second Mast in my dress whites, which I had never worn before. It was a quicker affair, but I did detect a sense of hatred from some of the younger officers there. The older officers at the table seemed happy enough to just let me go with a General Discharge, with the further note that I was not fit for future service, so I was on my way to freedom.

I had been in 191 for a longer amount of time than anyone before and I was more than ready to go back to Roller Derby, hitching around the country and school. My idea for a final parting gift to the Navy was to write a message on a tall wall overlooking the unit, a message that would be high enough on the building that it would stay up there for awhile. Nothing profound, just something like,

"crazy was here".

This would give me enough plausible deniability to not get in real trouble and still let others know that my time was not forgotten. I knew even the Chiefs would get a secret laugh, while mourning the loss of their best mixer, so it seemed like a good plan to me.

The paint and roller were easy to get from the paint supply, the problem would be sneaking out of 191, getting around the guard and getting over to the building at night. We could get almost anything we ever wanted, because there were guys from 191 working all over the base (including the building supply). We could always trade for anything (legal or not) and my work at the liquor store gave me quite a bit of power on the trade market.

I planned to paint the sign the night before I flew out, because I didn't want to get caught and I'd hoped to be able to read it as I took off on the plane. A one bottle bribe to the "armed" guard (I don't think they were allowed bullets at the time, lol.) was arranged beforehand, so I just waited for the word. I got the official paperwork a week later and so I said my goodbyes.

My "signage" went well and only took two of us about twenty minutes to pull off. It wasn't as big as I had hoped, but it at least it would be some tangible evidence that I was there. When I was flying out, I couldn't see it, but I always wanted to believe that it stayed up for months after I left (maybe longer!) and that all the new "heads" would look up and wonder who had pulled that off.

Epiloge -

I really wish that I could say that was the end of my service, but I can't. Two things happened that followed me out. The first, was in the time after the war, in an attempt to heal the rift in the country, laws were passed to ease some of the burdens that were shared on both sides. The war was over and the draft was put on hold, so attempts were made to bring the young people in America back into the fold.

For my small piece of that reconciliation I received notification that my General discharge was changed to Honorable and I was made eligible to receive benefits on a very limited scale.

The second and far more profound thing that happened, was finding out forty years later that, while the Navy couldn't get me to Asia, in 1969 they brought Asia to me. I was about to enter a life or death battle that was easily the toughest one I have ever fought.

Nice cliff hanger.

I'm going to guess Swine Flu.

I believe 1969 was the year of Hong Kong flu. I had it over Christmas.

Holy crap. 34k people in the US died. 1 million world wide. That was probably it.

I still remember it. The headache was not a pounding but more like constant pressure, like my head was going to explode. The fever felt like fire. My nose ran constantly and it choked me at times. I swallowed aspirin like candy. That was the only thing holding my fever down. I slept thru Christmas. It was the worst I have ever felt.