AWOL: Part 3 (Read Parts 1 and 2 first, in order)

Author's note: I interviewed the subject of this aricle last summer in Arkansas.

The “old man” was the full bird colonel, in charge of the entire fort. As we neared his door, Sgt. Kernan came to an abrupt halt. “You’re going in,” he said. “I’m just along for the ride.”

 He stood post while I entered the lion’s den alone. The colonel was sitting at his desk. His face looked like it was made of stone when he saw me. I walked in and saluted.

 The colonel cursed me. “Get out of here until you can come in and salute me properly!” he barked.

 I did an about face and went outside. Kernan avoided my eyes as one avoids the condemned.

 I whirled about and marched back in, snapping to a salute again, then standing at attention, eyeballing the old man. His steely gaze met mine with utter contempt. He stared at me but I wasn’t going to break my gaze first.

 There I was, a 19-year-old who’d been in the army 90 days and hadn’t done a lick of basic training, staring down the colonel.

 “You don’t like this man’s army, do you?” he growled.

 “No, sir!” I said, with confidence.

 “And this man’s army doesn’t like you. I’m going to see how quickly I can get you out of here!” the colonel boomed.

 “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir!” I said.

 “Get outta here, I don’t want to see you again!”

 Kernan shook his head in disbelief when I stepped out. “Man, you must walk on water,” he said. “I can’t believe they’re not coming after you.”

 Eleven days from that day I had my discharge papers in hand. That was unheard of. I was given a general 212 under honorable conditions discharge.

 I was told if you aren’t in the army 180 days you can be discharged without benefits.

But I wasn’t out yet. I was switched to the discharge barracks where the other guys were who’d come back from Vietnam. I was never handcuffed, charged with anything, or tried for any crimes.

In the STC, you get assigned to various duties. My duty assignment was in the payroll office.

 All the records with everyone’s pay and information were in manila envelopes in hanging files. My duty was to put paperwork in the files. I quickly found mine. I saw hospital charges and fines from my write-up from the hospital and an AWOL charge. All the fines for my infractions would have eaten up my entire paycheck.

  Glancing about, I discarded the write ups and negative paperwork when no one was looking.

  I had been gone long enough to miss a pay period. Everyone was paid in cash according to what was indicated in the payroll. I rigged my payroll to where I was owed more money instead of less. The payroll officer was Lieutenant Rice who was required to hand out the cash as we lined up on payday.

 Drill Sergeant Jackson stood watch over the payroll proceedings. I went in, wondering what would happen. Lt. Rice’s eyes bugged out when he saw my pay. “What the hell?” He said. “This can’t be right! This can’t be right! You got two pay checks?”

 But he had no choice. The lieutenant peeled off a fresh roll of crisp new bills and counted out the money for me, glaring. Finally, his frustration had reached a peak. He didn’t know how I’d done it, but he knew he couldn’t do a thing about my bonus. He flung the money at me, cursing me and shoving me back as the bills scattered all over the floor. Enraged, I went to lunge for the lieutenant when a big hand clamped down on my shoulder. “He ain’t worth it,” Jackson announced, loud enough for the ruffled lieutenant to hear.

 I scrambled around, picking up my money, every bit of it, and went out.

 The company shrink had told me I was getting a 212. “You’re lucky,” he said. “A 212 is an honorable wartime discharge subsequent to disertion. You won’t have any negative ongoing repercussions.”

 The final step in the exit process was to pick up your final pay at the payroll window.

 I was a bit apprehensive after my last encounter with payroll, but this time it was at a window and not before the lieutenant. I was shocked. I got even more money and back pay for time I’d been off.  I went in Nov. 13 and got out March 13, a 120-day wonder. I was gone or on official leave and got paid for the sum total of the 68 days I was absent being on sick leave, Christmas break, or AWOL.

 I couldn’t believe it. I had imagined MPs waiting to take me to the brig, and yet I’d been compensated for every bit of my time!
 A fire occurred in the late ‘70s in St. Louis where my military records were kept. As a result, there are no records of my military service whatsoever. Furthermore, a woman working at the base hospital later destroyed my records of having been there as a favor to me, since she and I were together romantically during the time.