Cherry Pawn (eBook)

Chapter 2: The Brain Washing Begins

  I joined the United State Air Force at Corvallis, Oregon, as someone had set a fire in the recruiting center in Newport and at that time it was closed. It was unusable due to the fire damage. My dad drove me to the recruiting center in Corvallis, it was September on 1971. I thought on the way over to the recruiting center maybe the military was not for me. The concern I had, the draft was going on for Vietnam War. If I volunteer, I get my military branch of choice. I would be less likely to have to fight in Vietnam. If I was drafted, the odds were I would be Vietnam bound. I should have gone with the bad feeling I had about joining the military, and should not have enlisted. I did enlist of course or they would have been no story.

   The Army, Navy, Marine recruiters were in the hallway, trying to talk me into joining their branches of service. I felt like a piece of raw meat thrown to the wolves. I had already made up my mind to join the United States Air Force. It turned out to be very wrong decision in the future. I was filling out the paper work and came across a box to check, what nationality, are you Caucasian, Black, Hispanic, etc.? I am part Native American and Hispanic on my mom’s side. My dad was part Irish he never told me the rest of his heritage. My dad and his dad loved to drink Irish whiskey and sing Irish songs, they both could not sing. I asked the recruiter “what should I check?”  I explained my blood line. He told me, if I wanted fewer problems, to check Caucasian. That did trouble me but I did as he told me to do. I have a light complexion, so I could get away with that. My sister has a dark tan complexion, as my mom. I went to Portland about a week later and was inducted into the United States Air Force. While I was in line there, some future Army, Marines, Navy and United States Air Force men were waiting to get inducted. All of sudden, a couple of Marines came over to some men, who were suppose too be drafted into the Army. They told them “you are now going to be Marines!” They were shocked but the good of it, the Marines had pulled out most of their troops from Vietnam in the early 70s. The Army still had a lot of troops there. I got inducted into the USAF and I had to stay at the YMCA in Portland. I was waiting for a plane ticket. Just a month before the Air Force was letting recruits stay at the Hilton that had to be nice. It was so fucking noisy at the YMCA. I got very little sleep those few nights, I stayed at the YMCA. I was wondering, was it a mistake, to join the USAF, too late now?!

  The United States Air Force paid for me to get a ticket on a passenger jet, to fly to San Antonio, Texas, my first aircraft ride. I was glad I was not scared of heights. Texas is the state where my mom and grandpa were born. I would see the state where they were born and raised. I have to say I was not too impressed with it when I first got to San Antonio, Texas. I was glad I was born and raised in Oregon!

   I went through the bullshit of basic training, just like all military personnel. I arrived in the middle of the night at Lackland, AFB Texas. I was told everything has an asshole such was Lackland AFB, Texas in my opinion. The bad part of me not liking Texas, my mom, grandpa and I had family living there. I am an Oregonian and damn proud of it! Oregon after all decriminalized weed, started the bottle bill and first in mail in voting. Not to mention the forest, rivers, valleys, mountains, lakes and the best, the Pacific Ocean. Yes, Oregon is fantastic state but don’t come here we have no more room! 

I arrive for basic training, I get there by bus it is the middle of the night. I was met by a screaming mad man called a Technical Instructor (T.I.) He must have had way to much coffee. He started yelling at us as soon as we got off the bus. He told us “I will be your mom, dad, sister and brother but I won’t be your girlfriend, if you fuck me over you will have hell to pay!” You know I believed he was telling the truth! He told us to “line up.” Hell most of us didn’t know where or how. So after the T.I. showed us how to line up, in military formation. He had us march to the chow hall, a place to eat called “Hell’s Kitchen.” Most of us never had marched before that. We were so out of step, kicking each other in the back of the legs.  We looked like clowns! Hell’s kitchen was just that. Everyone that had stripes, on their sleeves, seemed to be yelling, faster, faster, get in line. I had just got off a 3 hour jet ride, a rough bus ride and had to listen to all the bullshit. I wanted to resign from the Air Force but who do you tell? We were yelled at to hurry and eat. I think it was food, it was supposed to be food. It didn’t taste like anything my mom made or my grandma cooked. We just finished eating and we are marched over to the barracks. I have to admit the barracks was not bad. They were new, open bay, so everyone had to listen to men snore, fart, talk in their sleep, masturbation was not allowed, all though I think some airmen cheated. You could tell by the small tents in their bed at night. It was hard to sleep. The next morning, a garbage can goes bouncing down the hallway, tossed by the T.I. What a rude awaking, we are then told to give up all of our personal items, all cigarettes were also taken away at that time. The T.I. told people who smoked “you will have to earn the right to smoke,” I never smoked, so no withdraws for me but there was for those who smoked. We were also told no coffee too. Once again I didn’t drink coffee so do big deal for me. A lot of short tempers, for sure, no cigarettes and not coffee. We were also told to “shit, shower, shave” and do it in several minutes. I was lucky I couldn’t grow facial hair yet. Some of the men had full long beards, to their chest. Most of them joined the Air Force to dodge the draft. Some assholes, joined to dodge their child support, back then the military didn’t make you pay it. Like I said, we had a T.I. screaming at us to “Hurry!” I’ve never seen so many men, bleeding from their faces. I must have sucked to shave your beard without scissors, to cut it short first. They had to use a regular razor. The next morning we went through the same Bull Shit before going to breakfast. The T.I. asked me, if I had shaved I said “no, I don’t have to I can’t grow facial hair yet.” You know that was the wrong answer. I had to do a whole lot of pushup, for that answer. The T.I. asked, if I was special over the other airmen basic trainees. I knew that was a loaded question. I said “Sir no sir.” He said “you will shave every day.” I did just that. I even had to buy razor blades that I didn’t need. We got there on a weekend, so we couldn’t get fatigues, instead we had to wear civilian clothes to exercise, that sucked. We had survived the weekend, it is Monday. It is time to get our military clothes, the same thing there, as hell’s kitchen, more yelling, hurry up, stay in line, maggots. I have to admit, not one pair of clothes fit. You took what they gave you and kept your mouth shut. We next had to go and get our Air Force haircuts. The haircuts were given by civilians, who thought they were comedians. I was asked how I would like my haircut. I told him a trim is good. The barber ran the clippers right through the middle of my hair to the skull. He showed me a mirror what my hair looked like, with a bald strip or as I preferred, a racing stripe. He then laughed and said “Say good bye to all of your hair” and just like that it was gone. When all of us were finished with our haircuts no one recognized each other.

We laughed and told each other, “Man you are homely without your hair!” It was good to get name tags to tell who we were talking to. We all looked alike from a distance. Green pickle suits, black boots, blue name tags and a green hat and bald.

  Our squad returns to the barracks. The T.I.s said we need to mark our clothes, with the stencil which the United States Air Force gave us, with our last four of our social security number. They are yelling where to stencil your SSI numbers. I was not listening to them, I was thinking about my past life. I was already tired of all the yelling. I was thinking why, does it matter where you mark your clothes. I found out there is the right way, the wrong way, and the Air Force way. I was very wrong it does matter where you mark your clothes. The Technical Instructors (T.I.s), both Vietnam vets of the Security Forces. They both had attitudes like a pit bull male. The T.I.s looked where I had marked my shirts. I marked them in a different spot, then where we were told, bad mistake. They asked me if I heard them, where to mark the clothes. I said “no.” They told me to follow them into the T.I.s room. They sat down and told me to have a seat in the green chair except there was no fucking, green chair! I said, “Sir I see no green chair, Sir.” They said “sure it is right behind you.” There was no fucking green chair behind me! I told them, “I don’t see one.” They said “sure there is” I was ordered to act like I was sitting in a chair, they said “Like fucking now!” So, I bend my body into a chair position. They then asked me stupid questions for a long time. My legs were getting very tired. They started to ask me personal question, like about my sister. I started to get mad and they stopped. One T.I. walked behind me with an ammo belt and slammed it on a table that was behind me, it echoed in the room. They said “next time you make a mistake it will be your ass!” The two T.I.s said fuck a lot. We...