After using the portable radio to give the directions, I received phone calls from both gates in just a matter of a few moments. I quickly relayed the latest information and they asked what they should do. Sergeant Gray ordered them to maintain their posts until relieved or told otherwise.
“How long will it take the incoming missile to hit its target in the U.S.?” I asked him.
“It’s a thirty-minute flight time for either missile to impact. Since they launched first, their missile will hit first, followed closely by ours. Since you’ve not been notified that multiple launches have occurred, it seems that we are dealing with only two missiles with maybe eleven warheads. Looking at my watch, I would say that the Soviet missile is crossing the North Pole and inbound to the U.S. with an impact of about twelve minutes. I guess….”
The phone rang, making me jump out of my seat. “Callahan.”
“This is Colonel Rodriguez, Wing Command Post. We have successfully terminated the inbound flight of the Soviet ICBM and have sent a destruct signal to our own ICBM, which is over the North Pole heading toward Soviet airspace.”
“What does that mean, that we have terminated the inbound flight?”
“It means our missile defense shield worked and we were able to destroy the hostile missile. We are waiting from further word from the Pentagon and other sources to determine our next steps.”
The phone went dead. I relayed the news to Sergeant Gray and Todd, both of whom broke out into big smiles. The crisis wasn’t over yet, but at least there were no armed ICBMs in flight at the moment. We all breathed a little easier.
“Let our guys know at once.”
I went through the same process as before to notify all on-duty base police and security forces of the latest situation report. A palpable sense of relief was exhibited by all I relayed the good news to. I also cautioned them that we were not out of the woods yet. We still had the president’s determination to neutralize the threat. Tonight’s launch from the rebel base would only reinforce the views of the hawks in the administration.
“Have you notified the squadron commander yet of the latest?” asked Sergeant Gray.
“Actually, the Command Post told me they are relaying situation reports directly to him. So, he is one less thing on my list to take care of each time we have a change in status.”
“Okay, well, transfer your operation back upstairs to the normal desk sergeant’s area. But if we get another missile alert, head back down here again.”
After getting resettled into my normal duty station, we made new coffee and once again began the vigil for the next action to take place in this dance of death. I had to wait more than an hour before I once again had an update from Command Post.
“Callahan, Command Post here. The Soviets have retaken the rebel base about twenty minutes ago and have declared it secure and back under Soviet national command authority. They are backing down their war footing and we are waiting for our National Defense Command Authority to back us down to Def Con Two at least. It looks like, at least for now, the crisis will pass and we can return to normal life. We will let you know as soon as we receive any further word or orders.”
Sergeant Gray was still present when the latest notification came in and he was visibly relieved. “Callahan, I’ll let our men know in person. Make sure your report is up to date on everything that has happened tonight. Radio me as soon as you receive confirmation of a reduction in Def Con status.”
Gray left the office and I once again hugged and kissed my lover. “Well, it looks like we’re not going to go up in flames tonight after all, my darling!” I said to Todd. He just smiled and kissed me quickly once again.
It was another four hours before I received a follow-up call from the Wing Command Post. The Pentagon had flash-ordered all military commands to downgrade the Def Con status from Def Con One to Def Con Two. This was still one step higher than our normal status, but it sent a clear signal that we were no longer preparing for imminent war. By the time I was notified of this fact, it was almost 0200 hours and we were starving. Sergeant Gray sent one of the patrol units to the desk so that both Todd and I could actually take a car and go to the chow hall for a decent meal. It was the first time I’d been able to do that in well over two weeks.
We returned to my duty station and the rest of the shift passed without any further tension on the world stage. At 0500 hours, the squadron commander issued an order to relax gate control of the base. We would return to a more normal routine commencing with the very next shift. I also hoped that we would soon return to our normal duty hours and be able to live off base once more. When you have a partner, living in the barracks is definitely not fun. I couldn’t wait until Todd and I could reclaim our home.
I finished up my shift report and was relieved by the incoming desk sergeant. As I was getting ready to go, the major came out of his office and called me over to him.
“Callahan, you did an outstanding job all through this increased Def Con condition. You can look for your next stripe as soon as you have enough time in grade to be promoted.”
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate that very much. May I ask, sir, when we might return to our regular shifts, with a three-shift duty day here on base?”
“Well, not until we go back to Def Con Three, which I’m hoping will be just a matter of another day or so. I know it’s been hard on everyone these past couple of weeks, but especially here and out in the field. I suppose you also want to live off base again?”
“Most definitely, sir. I can’t say I like barracks life at all. Way too noisy, no privacy, and the accommodations aren’t that good, sir.”
After he stopped chuckling, he replied, “I’ll see what I can do about that also. Carry on, airman.”
“Yes, sir. Have a good day.”
I joined Todd outside the building and we walked the 150 feet to the base armory where I checked my sidearm back in. We then headed directly to the hospital with one of the day units so that Todd could have his bandages changed and a checkup of how he was healing. He said he felt pretty good, but that could have just been the pain pills he took a half-hour earlier.
Chapter 11
Todd was given a clean bill of health and officially discharged from the hospital. He was able to get rid of the sling, but was restricted to light duty for another week. This was great news as it meant that our lives might be returning to some level of normalcy.
Within another day, our defense condition was lowered back to Def Con Three, which was as low as we ever went. The rest of the military returned to Def Con Four. We were allowed to move back off base, and we returned to normal eight-hour shifts, with two days a week off. Life was getting sweet once again.
It was great to return to our house where we could walk around naked if we wanted to without worrying about what anyone else thought. We cooked dinner every night we felt like it, and partied on the weekends. Since we were no longer stuck on a permanent mid-night shift, but rather rotated through the three different shifts, we were able to work the day shift once every three weeks and have evenings free.
Our robust sex life returned to us with a vengeance. We had a lot of tension and hormones backed up since the world went crazy and we enjoyed each other at the drop of a hat. I was actually becoming quite good at handling Todd’s endowment, which resulted in even better sex for him. If the day ever came where “don’t ask, don’t tell” was repealed, we would exchange rings as a sign of our love and search out other gay couples on base. We needed a social structure to go along with our relationship. We wanted to share our happiness with others and not have to always keep it a secret. There were rumblings about repealing the repressive policy and we could only hope that the new administration would follow through and make our lives even better.
Upon occasion, we heard whispers behind our backs from some of the others that we were more than just roommates, but we refused to let it concern us. Our squadron commander never bothered us and in fact seemed to look out after me. Ev
er since the firefight with the Soviet commandos and the resulting medals, the major always appeared friendly to me whenever we met. It almost seemed that being awarded the Bronze and Silver Star was a security policy for us, making everyone leave us alone.
Everything was going along fairly well until the day I was called into the Office of Special Investigations, or the OSI. I had no idea what they wanted so I was puzzled as I sat in their outer office waiting to be told what I was doing there.
“Airman Callahan, come in.”
As I entered the inner office, I found two OSI agents sitting behind a desk. I was told to sit down and make myself comfortable. I was offered coffee, which I declined. Then it started.
“Do you know why you’re here, Callahan?” asked the younger of the two agents.
“Nope. I have no idea whatsoever. Why am I here?”
“First things first. I’m Agent Milson, and this is Agent Parker. You have the right to remain silent, and you have the right to be represented by an attorney during and after questioning. You may give up your rights and answer our questions and if you do, you can stop at any time you feel the need to. Do you understand your rights?”
Okay, I was now in shock. These clowns were reading me my rights! What in the hell was going on?
“Yes, I understand my rights, since I give them out to people I place under arrest. Now what the hell is all this about?”
“Callahan, you are under investigation for being a homosexual. We have received information that you are carrying on a homosexual relationship with a Sergeant Todd Claymore, which started shortly after you arrived here at Warren. Do you deny this?”
Before I answered, I noticed that the older agent had put a tape recorder on the desk, recording everything I said.
By instinct and little else, I answered, “Of course I deny it. It’s a lie! Who gave you this information?”
“Well, first, we can’t reveal our sources unless this goes to a court-martial. Second, you should really consider cooperating with us so that we can help you.”
“Help me! You’re trying to fuck me over and you want to help me? How do you propose to help me?”
“We can get you psychological help before you are discharged to deal with your homosexuality. We want you to get well. After all, we’re not monsters.”
After my jaw dropped open, I laughed out loud. I couldn’t help myself, it just happened. This seemed to piss off both agents.
“There is nothing funny about your being a homosexual! You have security clearances that give you access to top-secret information as well as weapon cards that give you access to firearms at the base armory. You are a security threat.”
“Bullshit! First of all, I don’t believe that a gay person is any more of a security threat than any other member of the Air Force. Do you guys realize that there has never been a single case in American military history where a gay person betrayed this country? Do you also know how many times betrayal by heterosexual members of all branches of the military and CIA has occurred? Don’t’ tell me that homosexuals constitute a security threat. And if a threat ever arises from the gay community it will be because of witch hunts like this one!”
“Callahan, how is it that you even know these facts?”
“I like to read, and anything to do with security issues I make sure to read. I ask you again, what information do you have that leads you to believe this?”
“We can’t get specific, Callahan. Are you sure you don’t want to cooperate with us and make it easier on yourself? If we have to go for a court-martial, you could end up with a bad-conduct discharge, which would screw up the rest of your life.”
“Yeah, well, I’ll take that chance. Do whatever you have to do with this shit.”
“Okay, as of now, your security clearances are suspended, and your weapons cards are revoked. You need to turn those over to me now.”
“You’re joking! How do I work without a weapon or security clearance?”
“As of now, you are suspended from your security police duties. You will report to your administrative officer, Captain Blackman, for further disposition. Proceedings to discharge you from the Air Force will be commenced immediately. Now turn over your weapons cards.”
I got up, pulled my wallet out, and practically threw my weapons cards at the two smiling agents sitting before me. I had to turn over each card to the armory in order to get a weapon and without the cards, I could not get a weapon. They shoved a paper in front of me that said that I had been advised of my rights and told me to sign it. After signing it, they asked me if I would give them permission to search my off-base housing immediately.
“I would like to consult an attorney first,” I angrily replied.
“In that case, it won’t be necessary. You may go,” the agent said while pointing to the rear door of the building.
I got up and instead opened the door to the outside office to the front of the building and found Todd sitting in a chair waiting to come in next. “No. This way out, please. Do not talk to anyone in the outer office.”
Ignoring the directive, I said to Todd, “They just asked to search our off-base home and I told them I wanted an attorney first.” One of the two agents grabbed me by the arm and began to pull me back into the office so they could shove me out the back door. I shook off his arm and squared off against him.
“Don’t fucking touch me ever again, understand?”
I turned around and walked out the front door of the building. I had hoped that Todd would pick up on my demeanor and realize that I had told them nothing and offered no cooperation.
As I headed toward the squadron admin officer’s office, I became more and more furious with each step I took. Fear tinged my mood as well. Did I want Todd and me to be discharged? It would be one way for us to live our lives without fear and plan for the future. It didn’t take me long to realize that it was far more than just whether or not we left the Air Force; it was whether or not we were going to let the bastards force us to leave.
I was also gravely concerned about Todd and what they were doing to him in that office. He was almost a hundred percent healed from the bullet wound, but he was still on painkillers and I hoped that wouldn’t affect his judgment.
After arriving at the Admin building, I made my way to the captain’s office and found his clerk’s office outside. When I said I was ordered to report to the captain, the sergeant behind the desk pulled out a file, obviously expecting my arrival. I assumed that Todd would shortly follow in these same footsteps.
“You don’t actually need to see the captain himself. Please read this and sign it at the bottom when you’ve finished,” he said after handing me a letter.
The letter informed me that I was being processed for a discharge under Air Force Manual 39-12, for being gay. I looked up at the sergeant and asked in an even tone: “I’ve only just been accused of this and the Air Force is already trying to get rid of me?”
“It’s procedure. This reassigns you to the disciplinary barracks pending discharge. Please understand that I have nothing to do with this matter other than implementing the procedures. I’m not the OSI.”
“I’m not signing anything until I consult with an attorney—and a civilian attorney at that. Right now, I don’t trust anything Air Force.”
“You will be called in by the captain and ordered to sign this if you don’t sign it now. This isn’t an admission of anything other than that I have told you that you are being processed for discharge. You really don’t have the right to refuse to sign this form.”
“Well, you’ll forgive me if I rely on legal counsel’s advice first before doing anything regarding this matter.”
I got up and walked out of the office in a fury. I pushed open the door and walked right by the captain without even saluting. I had even forgotten to put on my cap.
“Airman, what’s wrong?” the captain shouted at me as I began to walk away.
I stopped and turned around, realizing that I hadn’t render
ed the required salute and expected a boatload of shit for that.
“Sorry, sir. I’m just really upset right now and didn’t realize that you were there.”
“What’s wrong? Did you just get a letter of reprimand or an Article Fifteen?”
“No, sir. I was just informed that I am being discharged from the Air Force!”
“For what?”
“For being gay!”
“Come into my office, please.”
We walked back into the captain’s office where the sergeant just had to say, “I told you so.”
I shot him a “go fuck yourself” look and went into the captain’s office.
“Okay, tell me what this is all about,” the captain said.
“Well, sir, I assumed that you would already know about this since your office is processing this thing.”
“Bryce, I often don’t know about the details of these things until after they are initiated. Then I get a report from Sergeant Killeen in my outer office and that’s how I find out what’s going on.”
I gave the captain the full history of what had just occurred in the OSI office and my abject horror of going from receiving the Bronze and Silver Star one day, to being directed to report to the squadron disciplinary barracks shortly thereafter. I told him how this was going to screw up my life after the Air Force and that we were still living in the Middle Ages.
“Okay, let me look into this whole thing. In the meantime, you do not have to report to the disciplinary barracks. In fact, with your skills as desk sergeant, I need you here in my office to handle administrative matters.”
“Won’t that be a bit awkward under the circumstances?”
“You can work on everything but discharge proceedings. That leaves all the letters of reprimand and the like. You might be surprised at how many of those letters are given out.”
“Yes, sir. I accept, of course. But I have a favor to ask of you.”
John Simpson Page 15