No More KP

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	No More KP
	by Sean August 2005

	If you want the meat and skip the gravy go to the 7th paragraph . Go to the meat as
	you get a cup of hot coffee.


	Let me paint the background of this true story so the rare event of having a member
	of enlisted ranks be permanently exempted from KP makes this story believable.
	Back in the ancient days, the armed forces disliked each other based on trivial
	divisions of labor. Frankfurt, Germany was no exception. Even though the American
	Air Corp bombed the city to rubble near the end of World War II, by the 1960's the city
	was rebuilt, every German over 40 had a story of how the men fought in the Russian
	front. Everybody loved JFK and his "Eich Bin Ein Berliner" speech. The Americans
	had military bases dotted throughout the major cities. The Army owned most of the
	facilities and often the Air Force leased space in renovated billets. Under the rules of
	leasing Air Force personnel were obliged to work with Army enlisted in performing
	menial labor such as serving food to senior non-commissioned officers and to low
	ranking officers and their families.

	Dear reader, do not get the idea that I was a trouble maker, a rebel or Air Force snob
	that disliked the Army. All the men in our family honorably served. My father was a tail-gunner, my step-father was a pontoon builder to cross into German cities, my uncles fought in the Japanese theater, in Africa - the list goes on. Even my mother
	was a model of Rita the Riveter. Our family moved to a very conservative rural area
	community near a prison town called Attica. There was no hint of a hidden rebellion
	feelings against the military. My step-father's best friend turned mercenary and died
	in the fatal Bay Of Pigs invasion in Cuba. I chose the Air Force because a good
	priest convinced me with his moral fiber and his own military background that this
	was the quickest path to become a missionary priest. Enlisting in the military was a
	way to go to college, to serve my country and to see the world - does this sound like
	I swallowed the recruiter's pitch hook, line and sinker? I did.

	My brief stints in Libya, when Kaddafi was working for the CIA and our ally, in Iran,
	Saudi Arabia and Pakistan helped me begin to question what was the military doing
	in all these countries. In Pakistan, I was sent out near the Kyber Pass and ordered
	to guard a British-Shell Oil Refinery. I was given an AR-15 and ordered to shoot
	down any Russian migs if the pilot tried to knock down our radio antenna towers.
	The Air Police were given tips by the Pakistani military about their rivals secrets.
	Hashhish was seized from the local brothels and sold to the troops. This started
	to wake me up. Seeing children blinded so they could beg put me in culture shock.
	Seeing towns like Peshawar turned into brothels for young horney Christian
	soldiers treating Moslem women as whores made me doubt my faith.

	My family did not want to hear about these problems, just wave the flag and deny my
	own experience. Maybe my transfer to Germany would wipe away all these horrors.
	But the Cuban Missile crisis occurred. We were all on alert, ready to be deployed
	but nobody had any idea what was going on, where we might be sent to. Lucky me.
	My sister's husband worked at a radio station and was obliging me when I asked for
	news from home. He sent me news copies from UPI and AP presses after he had
	finished reading the news over the air. I got called in and was asked why I had been
	getting "unofficial" news from. Somebody had intercepted my mail! I was shocked.
	I wrote back to my brother-in-law and voiced my anger at such an infringement of
	basic right to privacy. My next letter came back ripped open and black marks were
	made blocking out the print in whole paragraphs. I went to the first sargeant to
	complain.

	Foolish me, I thought he would be sympathetic. I showed him the letter. I
	didn't even get a chance to give my prepared defense of the "right of free speech"
	and "the right of a free press". He told me to sit in the clerks room . I did get to here
	the story of two ex-translators who were curious what was on the other-side of the
	Berlin wall. As I started to tell them why I was there, the older airmen Clausen was
	smiling. His eyes alerted me that the 1st Sargeant had come out of his office and
	was listening. He barked at Clausen, "check why Hamilton is not on the KP roster".
	Then he turned to me. "Get in here comrade". I knew anything I was going to say
	meant nothing. He had already decide my punishment. I then listened to his tyrate
	against Jews, Communists, Blacks, Catholics, Muslims. I lost track beyond that
	point. My mind was wandering. I was imagining that he was tall bald Hitler without
	the half-mustache.

	All I heard was the sentence, "KP on Thanksgiving". "You will be wearing a tie."
	I did not want to dress up to be some waiter, cater role on Thanksgiving. Well the
	re-incarnate of Hitler did not tell me how to deal with this contradiction of wearing
	kakis and a dress tie.

	I reported for duty at 6 a.m. Green kakis and a red tie sprinkled with white dots.