That was when I decided I wasn’t going to do this anymore. “Excuse me, Chief. Can you tell me what skills I am falling behind in that I would warrant extra instruction?” I asked.
The chief said, “You’re not going to night class. You’ll spend the time cleaning, lad.”
I said, “I’m a hull tech, not a boatswain’s mate. My rate is not about cleaning.”
He was confused. The guys were confused, but they knew I was going somewhere with this. “Licata what are you talking about?” he asked.
“Chief, do you know what the definition of a working party is?” I asked him.
He said, “Yes, I do. What’s your point, Licata?”
“I don’t think you do, Chief,” I said to him, looking at the guys.
“Tell me, mister smart-ass, what is a working party?” He was getting agitated.
“My understanding of a working party is something given to a sailor who is lagging in his skills, pertaining to his rate. Like if I was not doing well at arc welding I could get a working party assigned to me. And during that working party I would be given extra instruction in arc welding. At that working party I would be schooled to better myself at arc welding. It’s not set up as a punitive measure. It’s set up to get a sailor up to standards in one’s rate.”
“Where did you hear that bull crap, Licata?” was his answer. “I didn’t hear it. I read it. It’s part of the rules, the navy rules. The military rules. You know the ones I’m talking about, Chief? You quote them all the time. The UCMJ, the Uniform Code of Military Justice.” I walked over to the wall. I said, “Look this is it.”
The chief and the guys followed me to the wall. Posted on it was the laminated copy of the UCMJ. I found the article about working parties. I pointed to it and backed away so they could read it.
When the guys finished, they all had shit-eating grins. They stood behind me waiting to see what I would do next. The chief read it a few times. I said, “Am I right?”
He turned around and said to me, “I’m not sure. Let me call the master chief.” He went back into his office. We sat down and waited. The master chief came storming back in. He didn’t look at us; he went to the back office. We waited.
They came out and looked at the UCMJ. They turned and looked at me. “Licata, is this your idea, or is this something you discussed with Legal?” the master chief said.
“Chief I think it’s pretty clear what it says, ‘Will not be used as a punishment.’ That’s clear English to me. But no I have never asked anyone for advice. Should I?” I asked.
“Maybe you should before you go around saying things that might make it worse for you!” he said.
“Okay,” I said. “Give me thirty minutes. I’ll be back. The Legal offices are around the corner.”
The master chief said I have thirty minutes. “Go!”
I sprinted to Legal. I was hoping that the padre’s friend was there, he was. Clay was thrilled to help me fuck with the chief, but mostly the officers. I told him the situation, I told him what I thought the article stated. He said he never really looked at that particular article. He is acquainted with a working party as a punishment. He pulled out his copy of the UCMJ and studied it.
When he was finished reading it a few times, He said I should stick to my guns. He said if they have any questions have them call him personally. He is one happy lawyer.
I took my time walking back to the school headquarters. When I got back the guys were sitting waiting, they were alone. I told them Legal was on our side, we sat and waited.
After about forty minutes the master chief, the chief, and two first-class petty officers came storming out of the office. The master chief addressed the other guys; he wouldn’t look at me. The other chief and the petty officers were staring holes through me.
“You’re dismissed,” he said and started to walk away.
“Chief!” I said. “Does this mean that we don’t have a work party?”
He turned and stared me up. “I said you are dismissed!”
I wanted to be clear about everything, I got fucked before. So I asked again, “What does that mean? I’m going to interpret the dismissal as a complete dismissal of everything, including the working party. Am I correct?”
The master chief stormed out the door. The chief said, “Yes, you’re correct, you’re dismissed.” He and his bunch huffed out the door. I and my bunch followed. I’m getting ready to go see Paul the guys are on their own. Later.
May 25, 1973, Friday
The chiefs didn’t bother to come to duty to day. They took a long week end. We finished cleaning up and were dismissed early. We all went bowling and to the base club. I’m saying my last good byes to Garza, Saul, Barry, Moe, Okie, and Jerry. They fly out tomorrow. Later.
May 26, 1973, Saturday
Tonight is our last blow out. Peter wrecked the Volvo earlier in the day. He was coming back from the store with party supplies. He was broadsided. I’m glad he is ok. The car is totaled. I never did get insurance.
I talked to the Michiganders about my future plans. They are behind me all the way. You ask, what is my plan. Let me tell you.
I realize that no matter what I do, trouble is sure to follow. The navy is full of idiots. Idiots that in the real world would not be put in charge. I don’t want to be on a ship in the middle of the ocean, and not be able to get off that ship and away from the idiots. The navy doesn’t need me and I don’t need the navy. I just need to convince the right people, I need to get their attention. I need to convince the navy that they don’t really want me.
I can see only one way to get their attention. I’ll use there rules against them. They are handy, they are readable, and I can quote and find them always.
We had a great party it was bitter sweet. Peter flies out tomorrow. He keeps saying this it’s not good bye, we’ll see each other, and it’s a small navy. I said, “Sure, Peter, see ya around.” Paul is dropping him off at the base when he goes home tomorrow morning. Later.
May 27, 1973, Sunday
I moved all my stuff into the Michiganders apartment. They think it’s great. My flight was to leaves on Tuesday the twenty ninth. Monday is a holiday. I’m not going. I’m making my stand now. I have to make the navy not want me. Every officer or chief that I have talked to tells me the same thing. I’m not military material. It’s not a good match. However I realize the navy can’t let everyone go that wants to go. Who would be left they ask? My answer is the guys that want to be here would be left. Guys like you. I added, you have enough dummies to order around, you have plenty, you don’t need me. I have to be a thorn in their sides not an open wound. I can’t leave trouble to chance, I’ll pick when, how, where and with whom.
Jeff, Bob and Benny are having a party to celebrate me moving in. All my beach friends think it’s great what I’m doing. They can’t see me as a baby killer, their happy I’m taking a stand. Later.
May 31, 1973, Thursday
It’s one big party from the time we wake up to when we go to sleep. I don’t have any responsibilities neither do these guys. The owners hired us to scrap and paint the wooden railings. We get up late, we work until one of us has a good idea to do something else. The owners don’t care they know we’ll finish the job. Later.
Benny and Bob rented some snorkeling gear. We went down the beach about five miles, to some cliffs. We spent the whole day in the water. We saw thousands of abalone in and around underwater ledges. We saw small crabs everywhere. Brian is shipping out tomorrow, tonight we party. Later.
It was the best party so far. Barbra is moving out tomorrow also. She said if I don’t have a place to sleep tonight, I could sleep at her apartment. She wanted to thank me for taking care of Fred. Later.
June 1, 1973, Friday
I’m going to miss Fred, he is such the precocious kid. Of course what can you expect other than his school all his friends are grownups and us idiots. Bob got a job digging a hole for this guy that owns a gas station. He wants to bury a new tank in
it. The rest of us are going to help him dig the hole. Later.
The gas station guy said he can only pay two of us. Bob and Jeff are his guys. Benny and I are working for Jeff and Bob, the pay is zero. Later.
June 4, 1973, Monday
We finished the hole earlier this afternoon. The hole is huge. We could bury a tractor in it. We used ladders to get in and out of the hole. The owner was not too keen about me helping out. He was ex-navy retired. When he first found out I was UA (unauthorized absent) he told me to stay out of his way. Bob said that he wanted to call the authorities on me. He didn’t because he was digging this hole without a legal permit. That’s why he hired Bob instead of a tractor. He needed to do the job on the down low.
He warmed up to me through the weekend, we worked hard. Today as we were leaving, he said he wished me luck. He said I’m certainly not navy material. Later.
We have some money. Painting the rails pays the rent. We have extra money. I decided that I have been away long enough. Tomorrow I turn myself in. So what ever shall we do, Mr. Journal? Buzzzzz times up, correct, it’s time to have a party. We still have Troy and his witch of a woman and Sherry, plus anybody on the beach that wants to join us, that’s how we usually do it. Later.
June 5, 1973, Tuesday
I packed my seabag. The only civilian clothes I took were the ones I’m wearing. The guys gave me a lift to the base. We had a sad good bye, they were hopping I would stay longer. I wasn’t sure where to surrender myself. I was sure that I would be assigned to some sort a confinement in till they figure out what to do with me. From all the information I had, I thought they would give me a Court Martial. Sentence me to thirty days in the brig. Then discharge me, I hope.
I decide that the last place I was at would be the first place to start, Service School Command. My thinking is they would love to have another crack at me. Working Party indeed, this one would stick, here I am.
I went to the school headquarters. I walked into the first office. I told the First Class Petty officer who I was and what I was doing here. He said he remembers me, they haven’t assigned a single working party since then. I said, “Good, now where am I supposed to go?” He had no idea what to do. He went in the back offices. The chief came out, he told me to go to the Contact Center. I borrowed a locker and a lock to store my bag.
The people at the Contact Center. Had no idea what to do either. I saw Silvia the blonde beauty at Padre’s parties. Silvia told me the navy rescinded my original orders. I am in limbo. I asked her how long it takes to get a new set of orders. Sylvia said it works this way: The officer in charge of your unit puts in a request for transfer, that transfer comes to this side of this office.
This side sends it to an office in downtown San Diego. Downtown San Diego sends it to Washington, DC. When DC is finished processing the transfer they mail it back to downtown San Diego. Downtown San Diego mails it back here to the other side of this office. They deliver the transfer to the unit commander that requested it in the first place. This process takes about three weeks, it can be expedited too slightly over two weeks.
The OD at the contact center said I should go back to the school. They have no orders for me here.
I went back to the school, they still didn’t know what I should do. I decided to go eat lunch. When I came back nothing changed. They called the transit barracks, the chief told them not to send me over there, because I wouldn’t be admitted without official orders.
I opened the locker to get cigarettes out of my bag. My bag was not there. I asked the petty officer what happened to it. He said he didn’t know. The chief said the same thing. How the fuck can you not have seen somebody open this locker I said pissed off, what the fuck! They told me if I don’t calm down they may have to write me up. I said call the SP’s, I want them to investigate, that’s why I’m here to get wrote up you mother fuckers! Now what happened to my seabag?
The chief said they couldn’t help me I needed to go someplace else. They both walked down the hall to a back office, I was left alone.
Paul was just getting out of class. I told him what happened. We had a good laugh. I said maybe seven days isn’t enough to get noticed. He give me a ride back to the beach. Later.
The guys were overjoyed that I was back, Paul stayed and we had a party. Later.
June 10, 1973, Sunday
If it weren’t for the fact that I am a wanted man by the navy life isn’t so bad. Between the four of us we have money to share. Food, drugs, booze. We went back to the cliffs where we saw the abalone. The fish restaurant on the board walk will give us five bucks each. When we got in the water they were all gone, they must have moved on.
We were hungry so we caught about a hundred of the small crabs. We got out the big pot and boiled them. Each crap had maybe two grams of meat. We had to go back and catch more. Tomorrow we start a small job for Sherry’s landlord. Later.
June 9, 1973, Saturday
The guys want to sneak into Disney Land. I don’t think it’s possible. We drove to Disney land to find out. They had never been there. I was there as a kid, it seemed guarded. We walked the long walk from the parking lot to the entrance. The guys thought they shouldn’t have too much trouble sneaking in. After all they do it at home all the time.
Bob walked one way Benny walked the other way in front of the high fence by the entrance. They were looking for the perfect spot to climb the fence. Jeff and I waited off to the side of the ticket booth. About ten minutes later a guy in a suit approached Jeff and me. “We know what you guys are up to. As of now you haven’t broken any laws. Attempt to enter and you will go to jail. We have one right here on site. We have been watching the four of you since you parked. Now get your friends and get off of the property, gentlemen. Do I make myself clear?” he said.
I said, “Yes, sir, we are leaving right now.” I went for Bob; Jeff went for Benny. Later.
June 14, 1973, Thursday
Jeff has an idea, he wants to drive his 1969 Dodge station wagon to Mexico. He wants to trade it for pot. I said he was crazy. I said Jeff your nuts. They pay these guys to turn people like you in to border patrol. I said let’s try to sell it here. I said all that to Jeff, but here I am riding with the guys to Tijuana, Mexico.
We crossed the border and parked the car. The four of us walked around looking for somebody that spoke English. On the border towns most everybody spoke some English. We asked about eight guys if they were interested in a trade. We had no takers. We showed the last two guys the car. We told them if they were interested then meet us back here on Sunday at three o’clock. We can make the swap then. We decided to go eat. My relatives that live in Arizona said the best food in Mexico is off the beaten path.
We picked a side street and walked until we couldn’t see or hear any signs of the business district or tourists. We used our noses to lead us to an eatery. There are no signs advertising restaurants out here. The restaurants are in family kitchens, we found one. They didn’t have a menu their clientele knew what they wanted. We wanted tacos and burritos. For two bucks we each got two burritos two tacos, a bowl of green chili and three tortillas.
We walked back to the car stuffed and drove to the boarder. We got in the line of cars to cross into the USA. When we got to the front, the border patrol guy directed us to a secure area, and told us to get out. We went inside. They got our IDs. I gave them my Colorado driver license. My hair is growing out I didn’t look military. I was still worried.
They searched us and tore the car apart. We watched, it was on blocks so they can see the underside. We knew we were clean. I’m positive that one of those guys narc’ed on us. We were there for three hours. By the time we got back to the beach it was late, Jeff said he is going back on Sunday. He thinks the search was random, what are the odds of it happening twice. So far I can’t talk him or Bob out of going back. Later.
June 17, 1973, Sunday
Jeff and Bob took the Dodge to Mexico this morning. Jeff thinks that the last guy we talked to was inte
rested. If he can get some pot in Mexico, he can sell it for a profit here. They have been gone most of the day and it’s getting dark. Later.
Bob and Jeff made it home the car broke down five miles from the boarder. I call it Divine Intervention.
June 20, 1973, Wednesday
I decided to turn myself in today. I said good bye to the guys. I took a bus to the base. I went back to the school. The petty officer wondered what happened to me. He said I was written up, I was charged with a UA and I needed to sign the form. I signed the form. Ok what happens now, I asked. He had no idea. He called the back office. They told me to go to the Contact Center.
I went to lunch and did some bowling. I went to the Contact Center. Silvia wasn’t there. The OD (officer of the day) once again told me it wasn’t his problem. He told me to go away, I did. I told him if they needed me they have my address.
When I got back to the beach the guys were making plans to see if the abalone were back. They rented the gear. We will have to walk. If we start early tomorrow we might be able to make a day out of it. Later.
June 21, 1973, Thursday
For us early is ten o’clock. We got to the cliffs at one in the afternoon. The abalones were back. We spent the day in till sun set. We had almost two hundred. We spent our last dollars on ice. We had the abalone in gunny sacks with ice. We called a taxi to take Benny and the abalone to the fish restaurant. We knew the restaurant would pay for the cab fare. The three of us walked back to the apartment.
Welcome to the Dance USN Page 19