Darkness, My Old Friend

Its night now. Calm windless evening, but a breeze blows through my aching head, dark thoughts through my tortured mind. Aspirin isn’t helping and the half empty bottle of ‘Maker's Mark’ reminds me why. I get like this every once in a while. After a rough day dealing with business associates, insurance people and lawyers I needed to talk, I needed to vent.

That’s when I think of her, when I need someone to talk to and no one is there. Alone in my empty home with no one to vent to, no one to listen, no one to push me on, no one that cares. I think of her when the sun sits perfectly in the sky on a thoroughly serene day or when the wind whips the rain. When life throws me punches I don’t quickly bounce back from, I think of her.

My throbbing head renders me totally useless as I eye the bottle of ‘Maker's Mark’. I’ve half eaten and realize I still have a shot at hydrating myself before I start dry heaving in a few hours. A mason jar full of ice, half filled with water, a twist of lime and shot of whiskey. Sitting in the dark, sipping my zesty libation, I think of her. I burst out laughing when the visions came into my head, memories…boy I could see her plain as day.

It was August 1982, I was in the post deployment phase of a Marine strategic mobile exercise at 29 Palms (2nd largest live fire base in U.S). We had just got back from a little trip to another place in time. It has been three days since we landed at the EAF (Expeditionary Air Field) just about half mile away from Camp. I was NCOIC (Non Commissioned Officer in Charge) acting OIC of the Military Police Detachment. The Colonel, Detachment Commander had confidence in me.

It was a Camp setup with large triangular tents arranged in diverse areas separated by dusty roads over an area of about 300 acres. Green olive drab tents separated by barbed wire and razor wire marked with red signs with yellow letters informing of unit designation (i.e. Weapons Co, 1/7) or restricted areas. Large 2 ½ ton Trucks, Jeeps, M880 Pickups, Trailers, M47 Tanks and other combat vehicles all camouflaged to match the desert floor. Dust was everywhere.

It was my Camp, my M.P.’s were great, trained well, all exceptionally competent. No vehicle was allowed in the Camp Area without prior authorization. A checkpoint manned by my M.P.’s were on duty and accounted for everything that went in or out under the C.O.’s orders. I was happy with the level of discipline that we were able to instill and keep among the force by enforcement of the Uniform Code and Camp Regulations I helped write and establish.

My then girlfriend and later wife, ‘June’ called me to let me know I needed to come to LA and fix a finance problem with my car or they would take it. ( I traded in my big Chevy for a sporty Datsun Z car that barely fit four) I tried to get the dealership to let my lawyer sign some papers for me but they wouldn’t do it, my lawyer said I had to be there.

My C.O. gave me a 72 hour pass, (Stratmobex -combined arms mobile exercise, wouldn’t start for another 5 days). June drove out to 29 Palms with Lucinda (hot Mexicana) to get me. It was a 2 ½ hour trip on a good day to get from LA to 29 Palms. I packed a light bag, left instructions for my Corporals and posted orders for the interior guard. Two large G.P. tents doubled as M.P. headquarters and living area. The radio crackled with a voice full of urgency.

“A sports car is on the base road traveling at an extremely high rate of speed heading for the
EAF and Camp Area…has to be doing about 80 MPH, its kicking up a dust storm.” I ordered the M.P. at the checkpoint to be ready and stop the vehicle by any means necessary. I was still in uniform (all of us were in camouflage utility uniforms) with gunbelt, armband and baton. I drew a rifle and headed for the checkpoint.

A two tone blue Datsun sports car with a cloud of dust behind it stopped at the Camp entrance, my M.P. approaching the vehicle with his hand on his weapon. I could not make out anything because the dust cloud created a dust fog, I could not quite see through. As I got to the gate my heart sank, my eyes bugged and I was mortified. It was June and Lucinda – yeah, MY CAR.

The radio crackled in my Jeep, “Force commander wants to know status of the rogue vehicle in the exercise area.” I sent the message “stand by”. I walked to the car and knocked on the window. As the window rolled down, June giggled guiltily, the smell of liquor and weed coming from Lucinda’, who was holding an open container of OE 800, it didn’t help my mood.

I had her pull the car over and told her “just sit there” I told Lucinda to put the can in the bag, wrap it and leave it on the floor of the car. I informed my M.P.’s it was my girlfriend and the situation was Code 4. I told my Corporal to take charge of the C.P. and radioed to Command I would report the status of this vehicle personally.

As I entered the S-1 area on the way through to the C.O.s tent I could see the staff looking at me as if something serious was going on. I reported to the X.O. (executive officer) first. I told the Captain exactly what happened and that I would take care of this matter. He looked at me and could see the consternation in my face. He had a lot of fun breaking down this “breech”.

The Colonel walked in on the conversation I saluted him and he had me carry on. They laughed, and ribbed me unmercifully as I stood sweating to death at the position of attention. The Colonel ended my torture by saying, “Take your girlfriend, her hoochie buddy and that foreign made piece of crap out of my exercise area. To make sure you get your shit squared away I’m rescinding your 72 hour pass and giving you a 96 hour pass,…get away from me Sergeant.”

As I walked out of SysOps the laughter carried throughout the Command area. (You can hear through tents). I left the base with her now in the passenger seat and Lucinda kickin it in the back. I looked at her, with her eyes on fire with her guilty smile, her cleavage nicely displayed in her black silk blouse and her legs gleaming in her tight grey skirt, I said, “you got me in trouble with the Colonel”. “You still got three days right?” She asked.

‘No, thanks to you I got four days’ my foot very lightly on the accelerator as I approached the main gate to exit the Combat Center. I remember how her eyes and smile sparkled. As I drove off the base she slowly spread her legs and said, “I’ll make this up to you”. “When I get you home you’ll forget all about your Marine Corps.”

She passed away over eight years ago. She could keep me giggling inside for days on end. Now I only have darkness and these memories, I fail at starting any new romance. It was hard to let her go. I can’t forget her. I have my damaged aching body, the darkness, my empty wounded soul and a half bottle of booze. Soon it will be an empty bottle. Soon the sun will rise. As En Vogue sang, “Back to life, Back to reality,….back to the present time, …...” RJ