In the Navy.

Howdy folks, I was just looking through a box of old stuff my sister colocted and I found a snapshot of a rather tall and scrawny fellow. This knucklehead's wearing just some trousers and a dixiecup (sailor's cap) and leaning on a palm tree, grinnin' ear-to-ear. On the back is written:

"Hey Peg, Just sayin' howdy from Gulfport, Mississippi. Timmy."

Oh shucks, that brought a tear to my eye. This must of been when I first started ECS training, oh say 1982. Oh yes siree, I say started cuz I didn't smile once afterwards. Just to give you folks a pretty scary fact this is where I learned proficiancy with the ole M-16. You just remember that, Mr. John Sloss.
Ya see, at 17 my life was pretty messed up. Peggie had married Ken and she tried to help strighten me out but ole Ken said it wasn't her responsibilly. I was flunking out of senior year and was stoned more often than not but I was using less than the previous years. I managed to just get by the the last two years of high school, but I had put myself into a hole. I was going to hafta' repeat when a USMC recruiter came in to give us a talk. The principal told him about me and well they called my Sis and Ken and we had us a little sit down. I don't recall much but I got my H.S. diploma and had been signed on to a two year stint in Uncle Sam's Navy (the Gunny said I wasn't Marine material). Navy boot camp was hell and ship life wasn't much better (Peggie sez I shouldn't mention what ships and bases I was at). I snuck a sip of booze or beer at every oppertunity but going stone cold turkey on the hard drugs was rough. I spent a lot of time in the infirmary that first year. Also for some reason or 'nother people didn't like me. They would call me Rice Krispies and a game they soon had was to dunk my head in water and scream "Let's hear ya snap, crackle and pop!" Yeah, I got beat up a lot. One time when I was hauling up cargo I dropped the whole load and the Boatswain's mate told the other guys to lock me in an equiptment locker.
My life on ship came to an end when after showing an aptitude for electrical repairs I was transferred to the Construction Battalion, the ole Seabees, where I became a CE (construction electrician). I bounced around a lot until I was assigned as a lineman on a Marine base. The Marines used to beat on me pretty bad. After 3 years with the Navy I got a medical discharge when I broke my femur in a pretty nasty tangle with 4 drunken Marines. After which I ended up in Reno and looked up my Dad, but that as the good book sez is another story.

Construmus Batuimus! or just Can Do!

Hoo-rah! CE Timothy A. Kisper