Monday, August 18, 2014

Chapter 26: Hooked on a Feeling

As I look back and read my previous chapters, I find myself shaking my head on a lot of things I did.  Memories from those times are still clear to me; sometimes too clear.  That being said, the next chapters may make you, the reader, shake your head, too....

The twentieth year of my life was closing out and I was once again back home with family.  The past two holidays had been both special and therapeutic for me.  It was good to get away from all the Army hustle and just be me again with those who mattered the most.  So far on this trip, I had stayed rather low key and avoided the mischief I created the first time; then there was New Year's Eve.  I had been invited to a party at a home belonging to one of the guys on the fire department.  The plan was that I would stay until around 1130 p.m. and I would go home to watch the ball drop with mom as I always had in the past.  Plus, my favorite band KISS was due to perform on the New Year's Rockin' Eve show and I didn't want to miss it.
Dee Dee, Norman and I arrived at Anthony's house somewhere around 830 p.m. and I nearly fell on my face as I got out of the car due to wearing my cowboy boots and the snow still on the ground.  It was bitterly cold that night and I joked that it felt more like Germany than Kentucky.  Several people from the fire department were there already and playing cards and pool.  Almost immediately, the conversation turned to the quality of beer in Germany versus domestic beer.  Then the drinking began.  I started off drinking beer, one right after another.  The difference was uncanny; the domestic beer was much weaker than German beer and easier to drink.  Then someone brought out a mason jar of moonshine.  I drank quite a bit of it too, then some Wild Turkey.  I got drunk rather quickly and by ten, I was having trouble seeing or walking.  The last thing I remember is playing a card game on the pool table.  Sometime after that, I passed out on the table, then fell onto the floor.  I only know this because someone took pictures of me passed out.  It was pretty apparent that I wasn't going to meet mom to watch the new year come in.  I don't know when I woke up, but I had vomited all over the floor next to me and someone had said she worried I had stopped breathing while vomiting and quickly turned me to the side; possibly saving my life.  It was after midnight by the time I woke up and KISS was already on the TV performing.  I can barely remember seeing them and trying to sing along.  Dee Dee had called mom to tell her I was playing cards and winning so I would be late getting home.  I'm sure she probably knew what was going on.  I escaped the reaper yet again that night; how many more times? I wondered.
The first day of 1994 was spent recovering.  I had done so well since I came back from the Gulf, but this episode was a recanting of the pre-deployment Green Goose days.  The hangover was almost as bad as the one I had the first time I was home and I was sick as a dog all day.  Mom and dad chided me about it, asking when I would learn my lesson and grow up.  I didn't have an answer to that question.  In fact, I liked how I felt when I was buzzed...entirely too much.  It was still snowy out, but didn't seem as cold, but I stayed in all day.  I picked up my bass guitar and played along with some tapes; I missed playing music often.  A few days later, mom and I went to see my grandmother at the nursing home.  She had been there since 1987 when she lost a leg due to diabetes related infections.  Granny's health had been slipping further and further away as she aged and her mind was being eroded by Parkinson's and Alzheimer's diseases.  The last time I saw her, just a year earlier, she had called me by my uncle's name.  This visit was different.  Mom had told me that granny's condition was deteriorating rapidly, and I could see it on the video that was sent to me that it was bad.  My grandmother would lay in her bed and just yell out periodically; not a yell of pain, just a sound.  Her hands constantly shook and she looked so frail.  My granny was such a strong willed and headstrong woman and could sometimes be rather mean, and now, she seemed so helpless and was dependent for everything she needed.  Mom was used to seeing her like this, but for me, it was almost overwhelming.  I gave my granny a kiss on the forehead when we got ready to leave and patted her hand.  She grasped my hand and squeezed it, looking at me for a long moment.  And then mom and I left.  The ride back home was a quiet one and somewhere inside, I knew this would be the last time I would spend with her.
My time home was starting to come to a close and the weather still wasn't very good.  It was probably best the weather wasn't as it was the first time I visited, because I got to do what I wanted; to be close to my family for once.  When the day came to go back to the airport, it had warmed up some and started to rain.  I had called Christina and told her my flight itinerary and when to expect me back in Nurnberg; she seemed generally happy that I was coming back, so that was a good sign.  As I boarded the plane in Lexington,  I said my goodbyes, but they weren't as sad this time.  I felt satisfied that I had spent as much time as I could with who mattered. I took my guitar with me this trip back, so at least I would have some home association.
The flight was the usual long and grueling trip, but I slept nearly all the way.  I had my Walkman on while asleep and was briskly awakened by a flight attendant asking if I wanted anything to eat.  I wasn't hungry and declined, then fell off to sleep again.  Shortly after, another attendant woke me and asked the same, and seemed a bit more aggravated that I declined.  I woke up again to find a plate of food sitting on the pull out tray in front of me; I guess while I was asleep, they went ahead and decided I needed to be fed.
We landed in Nurnberg and for once, there was no snow on the ground.  I wasn't in military uniform and while I had been home I grew a goatee, so I looked quite different I'm sure as I stepped off the plane.  Christina greeted me at the arrival gate with a big hug and kiss, she hadn't forgotten me.  We drove back to Ansbach and talked about my trip home the whole way back.  She seemed fascinated with me telling how life in the U.S. was.  Christina also said that she wanted me to meet her family and told me her dad was a very strict man who liked to intimidate people.  Not exactly the kind of person I wanted to meet, but I would probably have to if this relationship was going any further.
We arrived back in Shipton later in the day, the time difference was starting to take a toll on me this time.  I was very tired, but wanted to stay awake to make the best of my company.  Once I got upstairs to the room, Ace was doing his usual routine of nothing but watching football games.  I still technically had 24 hours of leave left, but thought if I didn't go sign in, I would forget to do so.  Without thinking, I reported to Battalion Headquarters still in my old Led Zeppelin shirt, jeans and full goatee.  I presented my paperwork to the duty NCO and he stood up, giving me a full all around look.
"Soldier, what do you mean by coming into my office, reporting off leave, looking like a bum," he barked at me.  I snapped to attention and the sergeant took my hat off, telling me that my hair was a disgrace.  After being back home in the civilian setting, this snap back into military bearing jolted me a bit.  I told the sergeant that I would have it all fixed as soon as possible and he told me once I did, to report back and he would accept my return paperwork.  The problem with that was the barber shop on post was closed due to it being a weekend.  I returned to my room and shaved, then found someone in the barracks to cut my hair.  The haircut wasn't by any means what I liked and was much shorter than I usually kept it, but after the run in with the duty NCO, I wasn't going to complain.  After a return trip inspection, the sergeant accepted my paperwork and I was officially back with 6th Battalion, 43rd Air Defense Artillery...back in the Army grind.
The aid station was back in full operation soon after my leave ended.  All inventory was completed and medical records sent back to Katterbach, so there was some downtime during January, 1994.  Field assignments were being revamped because of the new medics that had arrived; the new ones were being paired with the more seasoned medics.  According to SFC Bechtel, I was included in the seasoned medic category, although I hadn't thought of being.  Promotion boards were approaching for the soldiers who were specialists promotable to the sergeant rank.  For the rest of us, we were being evaluated for promotion from private up to specialist ranks.  My evaluation was not entirely charming, in fact, it was almost scathing.  "Not initiative oriented.  Low motivation.  Needs to be driven to complete tasks."  At the bottom, the recommendation for promotion was denied.  At the time, I was floored by what I read.  Looking back, it wasn't far from the truth.  I took that evaluation to heart after the initial shock wore off and vowed to do better. First thing was to fix about me was the binge drinking; I had to get a hold on that.  The New Year's Eve party scared me a bit, plus I had someone to maybe keep me grounded somewhat.  But the lure of a good night at the Goose or a barracks party was always inviting.
Around February, I was selected with Rucker and Donnelly to work at the clinic in Katterbach for the 90 day rotation I had hoped to be part of.  We would be exempt from field deployments and other unit activities while attached to the 526th Medical Detachment.  I was excited that I would continue working in the clinical realm rather than freezing in a tent somewhere.  Plus, it would provide me with a confidence boost in my skills from the time at Khobar Clinic.  We reported to the clinic every morning at 0645, which meant we were exempt from PT at Shipton.  Usually a bus ran to Katterbach  around 0600 so Rucker and I would ride over on it.  Donnelly lived in military housing at Katterbach so she just met us there.
The first couple of weeks were devoted to orientation and training.  There were two more medics from other units with us, neither had been deployed anywhere yet.  The clinic staff was a mix of military and civilian personnel, the commanding officer was Captain Salzman.  There was a radiology department, lab, emergency room and outpatient clinical rooms in the building.  Other than the krankenhaus in downtown Ansbach, this was the only medical facility in the immediate area.  After orientation we started being assigned in different areas each day; one day we would be in the main clinical area, another in sick call, or taking care of well baby visits.  There was always something to do at the clinic and the staff were great in teaching us new techniques of medical care.
Our duty days ended at 1700 hours and by the time we got back to Shipton, everyone was already gone or getting ready to head somewhere off post.   Christina worked for a engineering firm and did technical drawing and blueprints for them, so she didn't get to the barracks until after 1800 hours.  After a while, Christina started hinting around about wanting our relationship to progress, to move in together.  I hesitated at first, I wasn't entirely sure she and I would work.  I was hooked on a feeling more than anything at that point; a feeling that things were going good, but was I actually hooked on her?  A kind of shitty way to think about a person that I professed to care for, but it was all about the feeling in the moment, not a lot else.
Christina and me, early 1994
I went with Christina to meet her family one evening and was very nervous.  She told me that her mother, Heidi, worked at the Post Exchange at Illesheim Airfield and her dad, Gunther, was the post master in Illesheim.  She had a younger sister, Nicole, living at home and her grandmother, whom I only knew only as Oma, lived close by.  I was reminded that her dad was very stern and strict, especially when it came to American GI's.  The Markert family lived in a four-plex house on the outskirts of Burgbernheim.  As we drove through the town, it was neatly preserved in the Renaissance look.  A lot of the buildings in the main district dated from the 1500-1600's and were built in traditional Bavarian form.  The church, which dominated a large knoll in town, was built in the 1100's but had been remodeled over and over through the years.  It was a fascinating small town, but densely populated for its size.
I sat on the couch in the Markert household, nervously awaiting the impeding meeting about to take place.  Heidi came in first and shook my hand; she seemed pleasant and looked at Christina and said something in German, smiled and walked away.  My German language skills at this time weren't very good; in fact I could only speak or understand basic terms like asking directions or expressing gratitude.  Nicole came in and sat in the chair, staring at us.  An occasional giddy teenager smile would cross her face, but it seemed like she was trying to figure out if I was human or not.  Christina had given me a photo album and I was looking through it when all of a sudden, something caught my peripheral vision.
"Do you know what this is," a deep booming voice asked.  I looked up to see the barrel of a .357 Magnum pistol staring down on me.  I looked up and said, "a .357 Magnum with what looks like hollow points loaded."  Gunther laughed and lowered the weapon, saying, "well, good deal, you passed the first test."  New shorts, anyone?  I stood up to shake his hand and he gave a strong, firm grip, then turned around and poured two shot glasses of what looked like vodka.  He handed me the glass and toasted a welcome.  I turned the drink up and the burn immediately started; this was not vodka.  I must have winced, causing a laugh.
"You passed the next test. You didn't puke," Gunther laughed.  The drink was 'Slovakian Schnapps', he called it, a very potent drink that he demonstrated could be lit on fire.  Much more of that, and I would have to either have to be carried back to Shipton or my stomach pumped, or both.  The home was a small place; it had a living room area, three bedrooms, small kitchen and a bathroom.  Nicole's room was probably the most interesting.  She had a large cage in her room the housed a ferret and chinchilla, along with a couple of rabbits in a cage.  Other than the zoo, the room was a typical fourteen year old girl's room with posters of the current popular people displayed everywhere.  After a lengthy stay, we drove over to Oma's house.  Her home was in the heart of Burgebernheim and was in an older district.  Across from her home was a large barn and the smell of cattle was very prominent in the area.  Oma didn't speak any English and was an elderly woman who seemed very kind hearted.  Our meeting was brief because of the late hour, but as we left she took my hand and patted it, telling Christina something in German that I again didn't understand.
The visit wasn't too bad, other than the gun incident.  I asked Christina on the drive back what they had said, she just smiled and said they liked me.  She brought up the idea of moving in together once more, and I still hesitated.  She became defensive and questioned if I really liked her or was just playing on her emotions.  Of course I cared for her; plus who did she think she was asking me that? That thought ran through my head but not out of my mouth.  I tried to explain that I had been through some rough times within the past year on a personal level, but Christina was still pretty upset.  We ended the night with her still being upset and saying something along the lines of, "when you figure things out, call me."  I in turn was upset at her attitude and what I perceived as being pushy.
The following day, I was at the clinic working and Christina came in to see me.  She apologized to me and said she hadn't slept well because of our argument.  I actually hadn't slept well either, but I didn't want her to know.  After she left, Rucker and Donnelly asked if Christina was my new girlfriend.  I replied that she kind of was, and they chided me because I didn't introduce them.  Kind of. That was a lame way to put that she was my girlfriend, and was probably me subconsciously trying to rationalize my feelings.
Clinic duty was running smoothly.  I had made some new friends there, Corporal Gaines and Specialist Ludeke were both musicians and we hit it off well.  My favorite part of the clinic was the treatment area.  I worked under Major Hoskins and Captain Mitchell who were pretty laid back about things.  Captain Mitchell reminded me of Lieutenant Balser with his demeanor and humor.  In the treatment area, we had a few people come in during sick call hours with run of the mill ailments, some looking for nothing more than a day off from duty.  After sick call, unless there were patients in the treatment area, we worked in other areas, so there was always something to do.  Being the only medical facility in the area, we saw several soldiers come in from nearby training areas or aviation hangers that had minor injuries.  Usually, we did nothing more than patch them up and send them on their way, but occasionally, we needed to stitch someone's cuts.  I learned how to do stitches and became 'suture certified', which meant I could do them without direct supervision.  I also learned how to work in the lab, doing blood draws and running simple blood tests; things I didn't get a chance to do at Khobar.  I also became very proficient in doing the well baby clinic duties.  Every Tuesday and Thursday, children from newborn up to 18 months old would come in for their vaccinations and check ups.  We measured their weight, length and head circumferences, as well as checking their vaccination records and administering them when needed.  Easier said than done.  Giving adults a vaccination is pretty routine, aside from the ISG vaccination that went bad in Saudi.  Children, however, are a different story...babies especially.   Babies tend to move around a lot and when they get vaccinations, they are given in the thigh.  A lot of babies had the legs of marathon runners, I'm truly convinced.  It took a couple of people to secure their legs many times, and I know these kids that were older must have had my face burned as an image in their minds. 
As the weeks passed by, a steady routine had developed that provided some stability in my life for once.  I didn't pass my time getting hammered like I had before; I stayed occupied.  Christina and I grew closer and I became more confident in my medical skills.  I still had my buddies and closest friends in the barracks, but didn't spend as much time with them as before.  Harold, Smith, Rucker and Petty were probably the ones I was closest to, but the guys in Bravo Battery were right there with me, too.  That's one thing about sweating it out in a bunker on a remote desert tactical site; it brings everyone a bit closer because we all had each others' back.  Plus, I was their 'doc' and took care of them in the field, so they had a level of trust in me.  I remember talking to Petty one night about Christina and he told me that I shouldn't jump into anything.  He said she was a German girl looking for a free ride and I should be cautious.  Of course I got defensive, but in the back of my mind I wondered if Alan knew something about her I didn't.  Some German girls had a reputation as being 'green card seekers' and whores that slept with any GI that would have them.  I hoped that what Petty said was only a form of brotherly precaution, however blunt it may have been.  I passed it off as nothing more than him being overly cautious and let it go.   It was true that I was hooked on a feeling, more precisely a feeling of in the moment, but I felt that I had something I had been looking for...a stable, and sober, frame of mind.