We're on our way home from Wallace AS, en-route back to Yokota AB, and had to hole up at Clark AB for a few days awaiting a flight back to Yokota. I take the opportunity in this letter to rant about why 19-year-old two stripers shouldn't have been allowed to go TDY to certain places on the Pacific Rim unless accompanied by their mother. So let's get to it...
I wish I could tell you what the outcomes were in those two "love stories," Gentle Reader but, alas: I cannot. It might be because I don't know (I don't know, really) or it might be because I don't remember (which is prolly the case). I don't want to come off as sanctimonious or anything even remotely close to that attitude and by that I mean I'm ALL in favor of the troops amusing themselves in whatever manner they choose. (Parenthetical aside: When it comes to amusing ourselves we've been there, done that, but left the tee shirt on the shelf. So to speak.) It's just that I saw way too many of those hasty marriages come to grief where the guy was involved, less so for the woman. The women usually made out alright. OTOH, I've also seen a fair share of marriages that began in this manner work out, and by that I mean those unions turned into life-long relationships that NO ONE could ever question. That sort o' thing was definitely a crap-shoot and the odds of success weren't in the shooter's favor.
That said, I'm not one to talk: two marriages, two divorces. Mebbe I shoulda married a hooker. It couldn't have turned out much worse, come to think on it, and I'm only half-kidding.
I wish I could tell you what the outcomes were in those two "love stories," Gentle Reader but, alas: I cannot. It might be because I don't know (I don't know, really) or it might be because I don't remember (which is prolly the case). I don't want to come off as sanctimonious or anything even remotely close to that attitude and by that I mean I'm ALL in favor of the troops amusing themselves in whatever manner they choose. (Parenthetical aside: When it comes to amusing ourselves we've been there, done that, but left the tee shirt on the shelf. So to speak.) It's just that I saw way too many of those hasty marriages come to grief where the guy was involved, less so for the woman. The women usually made out alright. OTOH, I've also seen a fair share of marriages that began in this manner work out, and by that I mean those unions turned into life-long relationships that NO ONE could ever question. That sort o' thing was definitely a crap-shoot and the odds of success weren't in the shooter's favor.
That said, I'm not one to talk: two marriages, two divorces. Mebbe I shoulda married a hooker. It couldn't have turned out much worse, come to think on it, and I'm only half-kidding.
Good story even though you can't, as you clearly explain, provide a full resolution to Bruce's and Lake's relationships with their women. It's good because it makes the recipient of your letter (and us readers today) feel the pain of your situation. What an agonizing position to be in ("stereo indeed!). Just wondering: Would you say that "fair share" of service guy/hooker marriages is anywhere close to 50%?
ReplyDeleteI have no idea what the answer to your question might be, Dan. My anecdotal experience was that about a third of the marriages made it, maybe less, but I wouldn't think 50% was beyond the pale.
DeleteI'm reminded of those marathon letter writing session that occurred during down time.
ReplyDelete...and of waiting for mail call.
I had limited experience with mail call, but I did have some during a four-month TDY to Thailand. Our team and all its members had a General Delivery address while we were there; our mail was picked up once a day down in the ville, brought back up the mountain and "delivered" during mail call right after dinner. The rest of the time I had a mailbox in a central mail room/post office.
DeleteIn port we had mail call twice a day, every day, except Sunday and once on Saturday.
ReplyDeleteUnderway, it might happen if we were steaming with a carrier and there were regular COD flights.
Otherwise, we had to wait for a scheduled port of call.
That meant sometimes we'd be one place, the mail in another (Keelung/Kao Hsiung or Subic Bay/Hong Kong).
It was kinda neat having a San Francisco mailing address for all but the first three months I was in the Navy.
Once again: quality of life between the AF and the Squidly Service. You KNOW I had to go there... ;-)
DeleteWhenever I watch the movie Sand Pebbles, my thoughts towards hookers are less judgmental. They are living their destiny. I know Candice Bergen had only empathy for Steve McQueen in their roles. I think she saw that he lost his life at an early age, and only trusted machines to be his true friend. He saw in her a life on the other side. A side that destiny had denied him.
ReplyDeleteI think destiny has a high hurdle to cross over. The rocks below are littered with failures, but those that succeed are blessed.
I'm fond o' sayin' that I wanna be that elusive "hooker with the heart o' gold" when I come back in the next life. I, for one, am thankful for (most) hookers. I've known a few in my time and the best were professionals at what they did for a living and I thank The Deity At Hand for those types. They were a comfort, of sorts, in a time o' need. We won't go any deeper than that.
DeleteIt would be interesting to know how it worked out for Bruce and Lake. There was a couple who lived in the married housing when we were in college. He had been military and married a girl from the Philippines. Since they seemed to have very little in common other than a child, I wondered why he married her - convenience was my best guess - someone to clean house, cook dinner, have sex, etc. They are still married and boring as hell.
ReplyDeleteYou write a great letter.
convenience was my best guess
DeleteI think you're on to something there. But I think the MAIN reason guys marry hookers is they get what Paula used to call "fuck struck," i.e., they marry the first woman they sleep with.
I see you mastered the art of the parenthetical long before I ever took pen in hand (and found, to my dismay, it was a Slim Jim.)
ReplyDeleteI bow to an early MASTER.
(That makes this comment good for the following post, too!)
I LOVE parentheses! You've mastered the art, Jim. I'm just a dabbler.
DeleteIt might be another 30 or 40 years before I think of posting any of my letters. I can though, rest sure and certain in the knowing that the x did not keep any of them. She was not a keeper.
ReplyDeleteYou'll note that over 30 years have passed between then and now where my letters are concerned. ;-)
DeleteThe ex- and I both saved each others' letters with a plan in mind; the plan was to read them to each other while we sat on the porch in our rockers during the (so called) Golden Years. So much for THAT.