1969 - Going AWOL

1969 – Going AWOL - Part 1

After about 4 or 5 months in the Air Force my method of dealing with my situation, shutting down, was wearing on me. I was missing Donna. At this time in my life Donna was about the only person who I felt connected to. Of course my parents were trying to support me but we were at odds and I didn't feel at the time that they understood my views or supported my decisions. I was needing to find someplace I could let myself out. I wanted to not be in the Air Force for a few days. I had been trying to cope by keeping myself locked away and the world around me at a distance. I was trying to just get through each day without doing too much thinking like I had through basic training. I was insulating myself from what was going on around me as a result, I was feeling isolated. I was putting myself on hold, kind of not living my life but rather watching it and to some extent trying to ignore it. I was feeling empty and sadly trying to stay that way.

There had been a promise of some leave after basic training by the recruiter but that turned out to be an empty promise. Like the Southwest commercial, I wanted to get away. The Air Force said no, but I have always been one to decide things on my own. Hmm, sounds like I've got some entitlement issues... I decided to check out just what happens to guys who go AWOL and found the punishment varied but as long as you did not stay AWOL over a certain number of days the punishment and penalties were largely left up to your commander, assuming you chose to forgo a judicial proceeding and accept what's known as an “Article 15”. (An “Article 15” is where you leave it to your commanding officer to decide your guilt and put the punishment solely in his hands.) Another supposed benefit of going that route was it keeps the offense off your permanent record, at least that's what they tell you. A few years ago, as a prospective juror, I was asked a question by a judge that was directly related to my AWOL incident. After so many days of AWOL it was more of a court martial type of offense. So I started to plan a 4 or 5 day unapproved leave to go visit Donna who was still attending Valparaiso University in Indiana. My original plan was to go with another guy who also wanted to go see his girl friend, but he ended up deciding not to go. I, however, was committed. I decided to go and deal with the consequences. What were they going to do, put me in the military? I was already stuck there. I was stuck and not happy about it and frankly could not think, other than jail, how it could be much worse since. I was already a failure.

My roommate in the barracks at Keesler was Bob Castelluccio. He was also from NY but from where those of us from the NYC area called upstate. Bob was such a good guy. He was good-natured, very level headed and did not let much get to him. We hit it off right away. We became close and he looked out for me a lot. I tried to do the same for him but he was not fighting the system the way I was. I had the easier job. His Mom would send him pepperoni from the Italian Deli in his town. Every night before lights out Bob would break out the pepperoni while we listened to Procol Harum's “A Salty Dog” album. It was the only music we had. We played it at least once every night. It was the few minutes of the day where I could relax. Music has always been important to me and even though it was the same album over and over again it was my one opportunity each day to escape the rest of my current life. I have that album cover hanging on the wall of my room today. Eventually we had an airman move in across the way who had a reel to reel tape recorder with tapes of music. We immediately befriended him. I particularly remember listening to the Animals' Sky Pilot while stoned in his room. Oh, I may have failed to mention, drugs are easy to get in the military. Keesler was where I learned to appreciate pot. I had tried it prior to the military but did not really got off on it. Keesler afforded me multiple opportunities and I took advantage.

So, back to the story -

I told Bob my plans and he tried hard to talk me out of it. He said he heard we would get leave halfway through our training and I should wait. Maybe I should, but that was like three months away. That just seemed too far away, I needed and wanted leave now.

Well the evening before I was planning to start my unauthorized leave the Unit's First Sergeant who was also from NY and had been pretty nice to both Bob and myself approached me and told me the base was still under whatever the status was from the hurricane. He informed me that penalties for things like AWOL in these conditions were quite severe. He told me I should pass on this information to anyone I might know thinking about going AWOL. Now how he knew what my plans were I don't really know. However, I suppose it worked out because I didn't really want to be looking at a court martial offense where I could end up in jail. That same Sergeant had previously caught me laying on my bed sleeping, without any clothes, during the day. Did I mention it was hot in Mississippi in the summer? He entered our room and shouted attention and I awoke suddenly and jumped up to attention. Well I must have been having a good dream because not only was I at attention so was another part of my body. We both just stood there for a moment. I could see he was gathering himself, trying not to laugh and finally he gave me a quick lecture about not sleeping or even laying on the bed during non-sleep hours. He then told me to put something on and he chatted a little with Bob and myself. He was about the only Sergeant I knew that seemed to think I was OK.

I waited for the base status to return to normal, about a few weeks later, and I made a new plan for an unauthorized leave. This time I told no one, not even Bob. At the end of the day formation on the evening of the start of my illegal vacation I let Bob know I was heading out. I had shined my shoes and pressed my class “A” uniform for my return. I packed my duffel bag with some clothes and supplies and told the guys at the gate I was going to town to do some laundry. Instead I went to the Trailways bus station, changed my clothes, and hopped a Trailways bus for Valparaiso to see my girlfriend Donna.

When I got on the bus I was the only white person on the bus. I was a minority of one, or was that a majority of one? Regardless, I saw it as a metaphor for how I had been feeling in the military. I was feeling better already.

This is just another part of a series of stories about the events of 1969. This is the 1^st part of my AWOL story.