I got caught up in alcoholism like a lot (most?) of us did. I spent a lot of time at the Oasis Club. That is why I ended up hanging with so many groups of people. It was all according to whom was on which shift and who was ready to drink. It is still very strange to think of the amount of alcohol the Army feeds you, and yet even when I got discharged after three years in the Army, I still wasn't old enough to drink or vote. We could kill or be killed, but not enjoy life. This still bugs me.

I remember a bunch of us went to Wanita's for a fucking week or so. Charlie Casdorph, Cactus Mike, and others were there for the duration (weren't we all). It got so long that we started going down there in shifts. I remember Wanita had a young girl with her. This little broad was only like 15 or 16 years old. Well, I'm only 18 or 19 at the time, drunk and horny. I had to do this broad, and did.

Somebody got sick and puked off the balcony. Down below there was a shop. We also pissed off this balcony all night. When the shop owner came in the next day he was so fucking mad at us he came up to Wanita's screaming. Too fucking bad! So we're being obnoxious drunk fucking GI's.

If it was our job to be as obnoxious and ignorant in front of the entire world, we did it well. We did it with CLASS and had a ball doing it. I even pissed off the balcony when his shop was open for all to enjoy. He freaked for some reason. We had to drink Early Times during this outing at Wanita's. We had consumed all the Harper they had to offer. Shit! How do you party without Harper? It's just not done that way. Now I'm starting to sound like the Fat Man (Herb) himself.

We all thanked Wanita for a great fuck and a great party. We should do this again real soon. She didn't want to hear that so we didn't leave for a few more days. I bet most of the enlisted GI's at Kagnew came through Wanita's during that week or so.

I left Wanita's one night to go back to the barracks to sleep. Day shift in the morning. The gheri cart driver agreed to a price and we started off. When we got close to post he upped the price. Fuck you ass-hole! I was at the traffic circle just down the street from the main gate so I chased the little prick down the street with his own whip. Chicken shit little mother fucker! I didn't pay for that ride. I know that happened to all of us at some time during our stay at Asmara.

I spent an equal amount of time downtown as I did at the Oasis. At least it seemed that way, The closer I got to my day to leave the (worse), (crazier), (more insane), I got. The more time I was spending downtown. I really enjoyed showing the Norman's how to party the right way. We really knew how to party didn't we? I got to the point where I didn't care anymore. I was Asmara'd out. I had partied FOREVER and lived to tell about it. It was time for Boston 2 to go home. Did you notice that when you were ready to come home, the Army said NOT YET. You still have 3 months left in FUCKING HELL!!!

It seemed like HELL from then on. As Mad Dog, my friend, Mike Doran says, "The Army didn't exist on the mountain for us. We didn't allow it." He was right until it was my last days. We got a real gung-ho bunghole sergeant in the Microwave division. He was the essence of PUKE. The Norman I broke in had his head completely up this sergeant's ass. White-walls, starch, clean shaven, didn't stagger, didn't fall down, and knew where he was going. WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT ALL ABOUT????

Now you must picture this. I have less than 1 month to go in Asmara. My eighteen months are almost up. I am now 20 years old and a full-fledged alcoholic and a bit NUTS. After seventeen months without the Army I was shocked to see it again. Not here guys, not here.

Most of my stuff has been packed and sent to the states in a crate by boat or gheri-cart, I think they went the same speed. This sergeant talks the CO into having an inspection. They came into my room in the barracks to inspect me. Good luck. I was sleeping at the time of the inspection. On purpose and hung-over big time of course. I was in the old CO's office. The little room toward the Mess Hall Named that right didn't they. My room only slept two. Great privacy until-"Hey ass-hole, I can't stand your stupid inspection with no dress uniforms, and not much else either. Now let me sleep and get out of here."

Well, this jerk wasn't about to let me off that fucking easy. He told me to be ready the next morning for an inspection. Fuck you, sergeant! He came in and woke me up the next morning. Wish he would stop that. My fucking head hurts. Let me sleep. I'm checking-out. I don't need this shit. Just fucking leave me alone.

He was pissed. Too bad ass-hole. It's been almost 2 years since I had to deal with real Army before you showed up. Not now ass-hole. Again I told him to get lost. Again he threatened me and said he would return the next day. Fuck you sergeant! I don't have but 3 or 4 days left and I'm not standing you fucking inspection.

He came the next morning; we went through most of the same routine. He woke me up. I was hung-over and as ready for inspection as I was the last few days. Fuck you sergeant. He said I was to appear at a general court martial at the receiver site Monday morning, 11:00A.M. He had supposedly already arranged this knowing I would not stand any fucking inspection. Now it was the principle of the right to be left alone during your last two weeks at Asmara. No Army bullshit of any kind. It was the "CODE". It was the way it was supposed to be. I didn't mind telling this fucking sergeant about it. This fucking ass-hole didn't care about the "CODE". He was too busy kissing the CO's ass. The CO was OK. He didn't participate in this except when sergeant PUKE insisted.

Well here I come to the receiver site Monday morning. I think Richard Goodman drove me out in one of his `32 Fiats. When we arrived I noticed there weren't very many cars in the parking lot. The guard told us no brass was at the site due to a day of morning for President Eisenhower's death. I informed him I was to be court martialed today and couldn't postpone it cause I'm out of here tomorrow. He was more help than he knew. With no brass to fuck me any more, all I had to do was hide out until Tuesday morning. I had a fairly early flight out of Asmara. All morning until I got airborne I was looking over my shoulder for that ass-hole to be running after me. Fuck you sergeant, I got away! When nothing was said at my next duty station about any of that I knew it was all that fucking ass-hole sergeant's fucking ass-hole, fucking with me. Fuck you sergeant. I WIN!!!!!!!

(webmaster's notes: 1. Wanita's (wani) place was on Queen Elizabeth Avenue and was the site of many orgies held by the Gross Guys. 2. Harper is I.W. Harper Bourbon-the personal favorite beverage of Spook McKay.)