new years eve 1970 about 2 a.m.

As soon as I stood at the urninal-which was a long trough I heard the nazel voice come out of the dar and felt a slug against my face and as soon as I had been hit my legs were being grabbed-and I tried to kick and flail and was punched again. I felt my jeans being pulled off and the pain of the force of the penetration and as I laid there chest down in that urinal I could see the fat bald guy looking at the scene through a hole in the wall that had been crashed through .

I came to the next morning hearing my named being called . I was still laying in that urinal naked from the waist down and in pain from both my face and my rectum. I found my jeans with my underwear twisted into the legs across the room where they had been tossed.

Nobody asked me why my nose had blood dried in it and why I looked the way I did. I had urine on my jeans from just peeing as I was first slugged- peeing all over myself . I was just led out of the building and across a lawn to the building next door where I was seated on a long grey bench that seemed to reach the entire legnth of the hall I was in.

There was a tiny room across from me that had just enough room for a person to sit on the chair-and there was a partition in front of the chair and on the other side was a desk and a chair faceing me. I was called in there by a man in a shirt and tie-dressed in civilian clothes. When I saw him I thought that this was some one I could trust and who would understand there was some big mistake-he laughed a slight chuckle when he heard what happened after he asked why my face was so bloody. He told me to get used to it.

I was sent back to barracks D.

barracks D

The other day I was visiting some friends who had recently married. They had requested I bring my portfolio of drawings as the wife is an artist too-they both were interested in seeing my work. As she was going through the drawings she came to one page that made her pause for a legnth of time and she looked up at me and said ” I know exactly what this is about”.The drawing she refered to was an image of me-my head only-standing in a room full of snakes and for heads each snake had a hand and in the fingers of each hand was a fang-a poisonous fang. Around the room you can see boxes with men laying in them and above the room you can see eyes peering over the ledge. One of the snakes is coiled around my neck. My friends new wife confided she to had been confined during a DUI arrest-and had been raped…she knew nothing about what happened to me in barracks D.

By the time we reached the barracks I had to pee very badly. I had’nt gone since we left my parents earlier that morning and it was nearing late night. At the barracks I was taken to a room with a half door where a man was stationed to hand out bedding and give me a stack of shirts that had SID stenciled on the backs…sailor in detention. The room was stacked with mattresses and denim shirts in piles and hanging on the walls. Part of the room the wall had a huge hole in it and you could see through to the other room-but it looked like a crashed through hole and not an intended demolition. This man was an older man-perhaps in his forties,balding and stocky…and the first effeminant men I ever saw-he looked male but acted very sissy like. He welcomed me…saying “welcome to barracks D ….drugs,drunks and degenerates ” And I was led to an expanded metal gate that led to the place I have never forgotten since.

Something has been happening during the writing of these memories and after some work….I loose them , so-shorter instalments from now on.