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In January of 1972 I was 21 off probation and moved with my girlfriend to her mother’s house in WV. We were February in a rural church near Beckley WV, Unable to find work without a car I got a delayed entry enlistment in the army for May. We lived with her family until was sent for basic training at Fort Jackson, SC. With five of her little brothers, mother and step-father in that small three bedroom house it was all most impossible to have privacy let alone sex. Back then her mother refused to let us share the same bed, even after we were married, while we were under her roof. Since leaving California I was unable to wear diapers and plastic pants at all until I returned for leave in July. Her grandmother was out of state visiting some of her kids living in California. We were able to use her house for the two weeks. Thoughtfully she bought my diapers and plastic pants as well as civilian clothes along. The sex was great but being able to wear my diapers was relaxing and made my leave so much more enjoyable. Before I knew it I was off to Fort Gordon, Georgia for AIT (advanced individual training) for 4 months.
It felt good being off on adventure again, even though I would be alone, I vowed to make the best of it. Basic was more regimented then AIT, since I was going to Signal School which was more like being in High School with boarding. Except for KP (kitchen police) and guard duties it was very relaxed. The problem was it left us too much free time to get into trouble. On Friday and Saturday nights we were off to Augusta to drink and whore. None of the three times I bought whores were very fulfilling, just mechanic pumping with little pleasure. The titty bars were even less satisfying, even drunk I found myself feeling sick to my stomach looking at hot girls wearing sweat stained panties with disgust. Every time I visited those clubs it seemed like they were wearing the same panties, I wondered if they ever washed them.
I wasn’t trying to judge them but I couldn’t help comparing them to my wife who even when we were on the road homeless always kept her hygiene up. She was a very clean girl with lots of self-respect who valued loyalty and faithfulness above all. I hate and will always regret the fact that I wasn’t as faithful to her as she was to me. Especially in view of the fact; she accepted my sexual flaws and always tried to help me improve my inadequacies. I always wonder how different my life could have been if I would have been so rebellious and stubborn towards her. If she wouldn’t give in to something I wanted to do I frequently would brutally ignore her advice and do it anyway. Sometimes it would work out alright but sometimes I was totally wrong in my ideas leading to a disaster which I usually left for her to right.
After two and a half months of training one of the guys I was hanging out with returned from going AWOL (absent without leave) for a week. It was payday the next day so we went to town that night together. He had brought some decent weed back with him and after hitting the clubs awhile. We visited a local gun store where I bought two 25 automatics with two extra clips each and two boxes of ammo. We went to an isolated, dilapidated wharf to load them and try them out, while we smoked some more. He kept telling me how great it was in Connecticut where he was from, and how much he hated the army. He said he was going to take off the next day. I through caution to the wind, and went with him, like a fool.
My record in the army was good so far, except for getting caught with two nickel bags of weed, while being stoned out of my gourd in basic. I had gotten out of trouble since I was painting two 10’x10’ murals directly on the cinder block walls of the Battalion mess hall for the Lt. Colonel. I had gotten a friend of mine to compose who had studied some graphics design in art school to create the designs. He was helping me paint them until I got caught. The Colonel got it quashed in exchange for my working all my free time to complete the projects alone, negating the promotion and commendation medal I was going to receive.
Our errant adventure was short lived four days of privation since we were picked up in his tiny rural home town the same day we got there. By that time we were almost broke with about half my ammo left. To this day I don’t know what I was thinking or why I decided the guns. Fortunately we were only caught twice carrying them, both times in Connecticut. The first time we were patted down by a County Sherriff Deputy two counties away from his, who didn’t want us hitchhiking in his county. He felt our guns, there is no way he could have missed them, since we were carrying them in our back pockets of fairly tight jeans. But he just took us to the county line and ejected us telling us not to return. The second time was by the town constable of his home town. His parents were riding with him looking for him. He gave us a break breaking them down and bagging them up, the report said we were carrying them unloaded. His parents drove us to the Hartford Navy Base. The Shore Patrol drove us to Providence, Rhode Island police station where the Army Military Police picked us up three days later, taking us to Fort Devin’s, Mass. They confiscated my guns and gave us train tickets to the Boston Airport. We had Vouchers for our air travel and arrived back Fort Gordon the next morning to big trouble. He was sent to the stockade, me to my barracks. I never saw him again, nor do I know what his fate was.
To my surprise my wife was in the Captain’s office when I entered to be judged. I was overjoyed to see her but at the same time ashamed for letting her down. Weird as it was she was staying with the Captain and his wife until I got back. I was in shock since I was only a PV2 (one striped or rank two private), it is a breach of edict for me our families to be so familiar. He limited my suspended my punishment telling me to keep my nose clean and take good care wife. He let me know that it was only because of her that I was getting a break. As far as he was concerned he would have threw the book at me. His wife even took her looking for a place to rent and he let made me move off-post with her. It was one of the best two bedroom trailers I ever lived in with built in intercom and radio and a raised living room with a washer and dryer included, on a wooded lot with plenty of room privacy from the other trailers in the area. It had belonged to the owners of the trailer court who had recently bought a new one. The nice part was one of the guys in my company lived close by with a car and we rode to the base together.
The next two months were sweet and I kept out of trouble. But not because I was being good, I just didn’t get caught. The guy next door became my best friend there and our wives used to hang out together. One night I got guard duty, which is an all night event, with us taking turns guarding a particular post. You had two hours on and four hours off, from 6 pm until 6 am in groups of three, which amounted to having to only walk the post 2 times during the night. The worst part is feeling sluggish the next day due to uninterrupted sleep. After standing guard duty, you always got the next day off, which left me to have to walk the two miles home. I was three quarters of the way home when I saw a thrilling sight. Diapers fluttering in the breeze, I was amazed unable to believe what I was seeing. I didn’t avert my gaze as I approached the house they were next too. Suddenly I was no longer tired; my legs were flooded with energy as excitement fueled my movement. My breathing was shallow and my loins burned with desire and imagination of feeling their softness in my sweaty palms. Time seemed to stand still as I surveyed the house looking for activity inside. There were no other houses in view and the only noise was from insects, small mammals and birds. I was walking very slowly getting closer to that wonderful sight, they were looked like a bright white rows of flags calling for me to release them from their captivity and possess them. It was a compact arrangement of clothes lines in a square-like grid with a center pole supporting it. Creeping softy next to the nearest widow, I peeked inside, my heart rate increasing with the thrill of danger. I couldn’t see anyone although I could hear two voices talking in another room through the open window. In a moment of extreme desire I quickly turned and started pulled the diapers of the line, inhaling the delicious sweet, babyish sent as the pile filled my arms. I contained the first pile with my left arm while my right continued to gather more, repeating the action until they were none left. With a quick glance behind me I scurried across the road into a small stand of woods. I could hardly contain myself from the panicky feeling that was welling up from my gut. I took off my shirt and folded the whole buddle of diapers inside it. Holding it under my left arm, I took off at a brisk pace for home, my luck held as I made it to the trailer without anyone passing me. Once inside I found my wife sleeping, so I slipped into the spare room to sort and count my loot. I had over two dozen Gerber 30”x30” gauze diapers that were like new, some were slightly damp. They had the odor of Ivory Snow and freshened by a sweet breeze, there was not even a hint of chlorine bleach. The softness increased my intoxication as I separated them in piles of three for later use. Without waking up my wife I slipped into our room to get my plastic pants and add the new diapers to the dozen she had brought with her. Back in the other room I pinned on the three I had left there before donning my Gerber Toddler Plastic Pants. They still fit me comfortably since I only weighed 120 lbs. and my hips were very slim. Their only drawback was their snugness prevented the bulkier diapers which I would have preferred, and would have allowed less leakage,, Since elastic tended to slip down in the back, leaving the diapers without adequate coverage. The good part was being so snug they were not as noticeable under my loose fitting army fatigues. I found a good fantasy as I lay on the bed, enjoying a slow wank, before joining my wife in bed. In many ways I regret stealing those diapers, because it was the first time since my teenage days of stealing them. And the start of a regular habit that continued the rest of my time in the service.
The only remarkable part of my time in the army that I have not already related in other tales was after I was stationed in Fort Bragg, NC, Where I was caught in the act of raiding a clothes line, not once but twice. This is what should have curbed my actions but it didn’t. This year was 1973 in the fall. I had been raiding all the clothes lines in my trailer court which had anything of interest to me and several other ones on the back road through part of Pope Air Force base to my unit. There was even one located right on the edge of that base where I got a tremendous amount of diapers, and plastic pants, as well as women’s panties, bras and other frilly goodies. This is also the site of the raid described in the short story ‘One Stormy Nite’. If you haven’t read it and want to, look on the Soggy Press stories page.
The first incident was at a trailer four down from mine, it was one of my favorites among the dozen or so in my court, since they seemed to always have diapers and plastic pants hanging on the line whenever I passed it. The problem was they were not leaving them on the line overnight much anymore. Trailers in most of these courts were arranged with only about a dozen feet between them along their length which ranged from 50 to 70 feet. The distance between the rows varied because of the different trailer lengths but they were all two bedroom. My court was about the size of a football field containing two rows of trailers with the park road forming an oval around the all the lots. There was an entrance at each end of the court from the highway. Each lot had its own clothesline and parking space. You parked a car if you had one on the side where your front door was and you back door faced your clothesline with a heating fuel tank on the side facing the road. Most of the kitchens were in the front of the trailer facing the trailer park road, with traditional two piece curtains allowing a view outside while cooking or washing dishes. There was less chance of being seen between the trailers.
Although most people kept their curtains on the side drawn you never knew when someone might hear something and peek out of them. This increased the danger although you were sheltered due to their arrangement from any of the other neighbors seeing you unless they were diving down the road in the park. The day in question my Brigade was on maneuvers, which included the majority units of the fort. Not only did this make the base seem deserted but also the nearby trailer courts which surrounded the base, since they were mostly reserved for soldiers and their families. I felt like I was walking through a ghost town as I walked home, because it was only halfway through the six weeks scheduled to last. The majority of wives usually took this opportunity to leave until their husbands returned and mine was no exception. I had come in for a dentist appointment and would be returning to the field the next day.
On my way to my own trailer I spotted a sweet looking bunch of plastic pants on that clothes line. I checked out the rest of the trailers on my way by and everything seemed quiet. I went inside and changed into civilian clothes before going back out to do some stealing. I walked on the other end of the trailers, down the rows and then between the two where my treasures were. With only a quick glance at the darkened trailers on either side I started peeling off my loot.
I had only acquired two pair of plastic pants, when I heard a shout behind me. I quickly cranked my head around in complete shock to see a shirtless blond harried man glaring at me through his trailer window. He cranked open his window and demanded to know what I was doing and why, I stood there like a deer could in mid-flight in a complete panic. The air seemed to thicken slowing not only my response but my intentions to take flight. I couldn’t even form a verbal response to his continued questions and demands for me to stop what ever it was I was doing. We were like two frozen statues staring at each other for eternity.
The elasticity of the moment ended when he left the window and opened his front door, I franticly tried to pin the pans back on the line in an effort to reverse my actions, but my body wouldn’t cooperate. I ended up dropping both pairs and fleeing back the way I had came in complete rout. I wisely passed my trailer and continued near the end of the rows of trailers before coming between a pair of them onto the park road, slowing to a walk trying to act normal without looking behind me. Somehow he had flanked me and was suddenly directly in from of me blocking my retreat, and demanding my surrender. As the distance between us narrowed I pulled my pocket knife to ward him off. In a half-crouch, we were like two bucks dueling over a doe in heat, turning in union in a circular direction I managed to out flank him and the way was clear for further flight. I refused to not only to answer his questions but also his final request for surrender. Luckily he declined to advance any closer to me, so I slowly backed away lengthening the distance between us. He followed me when I turned my back to leave the scene but after I turned around and charged at him in a rage he finally gave up and left me alone. I walked down the road about a mile and waited for what seemed like an eternity before slinking back to my trailer vowing to stop my criminal behavior.
I was very careful when I returned from the field not to run into that guy again. The lucky part being no one seen our little show and I didn’t know any of my neighbors. I always took the long way around when walking any where near his place. And stopped my stealing at least in my own area, it had frightened me at least that much. Two months I discovered his place was empty, when my wife made friends with the family I had almost been caught sealing from. They had a car and we didn’t which helped my wife go shopping when I was at work. We hung out quite a few times until they also moved away. It was very strange to me and I was on edge every time we were around them, in doubt to what the might know. Especially after finding they had been close friends with the man who had caught sight of me stealing. They must have received a poor description; since I was never accused. We got together one Friday night to drink and play cards before the subject was finally broached. I don’t remember how it came up or why, but thankfully I wasn’t looking either of them in the eye when it did. It gave me time to compose myself enough to shrug it off and act surprised and outraged by someone doing something so strange. We ended up laughing it off and it ended. It was awkward but thrilling to finally hear someone wonder why anyone would steal diapers and plastic panties, Later that night I got some strange knowing looks from my wife, who had never asked me where all my diapers and other things came from. I am sure she had figured it out long before but chose to feign ignorance.
The second time I was caught in action stealing plastic pants could have been a lot turned out even worse but luck was once again riding my coat tails that time. It was the summer of 1975. I had a car by then and was supplementing my income driving a taxicab part time on base. During one of my slow evenings, I started cruising the on-base housing. Pretending to look for fares, I was really scoping out all the clotheslines I could find.
I finally spotted what looked like a likely target behind a group of enlisted men’s family housing units. I parked my cab fairly close and took hopefully casual walk towards my intended target. It was twilight but the security lights in the area enabled me to confirm a couple of pairs of plastic pants dangling from the line. I passed them up in an effort to look innocent, when I reached to other end of the building I retraced my steps this time close enough to the clothes lines to be able to pick them off the line as I passed them, without pausing. I figured if I was smooth enough in my approach no one would even notice.
I was wrong, within seconds after procuring them, I was hailed and being chased by two shadowy figures. I ran straight to the cab, barely starting it before they were upon me. I slammed it in gear and took off as fast as I could. I was speeding in a residential district, which was almost as bad a crime as my theft on a military reservation. A couple of blocks away I relaxed enough to slow down to the speed limit. But to my dismay, I found myself being followed. I tried to contain my obvious paranoia, making several abrupt turns, before discovering I was really being followed. The best part about driving a cab is learning the whole layout of the base. I used all this knowledge to lose them, as I made to the cabstand to clock out for the night. The whole time was worried they be waiting for me at the office or might call them to report my crime or even worse the MP’s (Military Police). If they did either of them I never found out and this is the first time I told anyone else about it. Even though it was petty theft it was on a Federal Government Property and any crime there is magnified because of it. The least that would have happened to me was being drummed out of the service in dishonor and lose of most of my veterans’ benefits. I never hunted on the base again but I didn’t reform either. Was Satan was aiding me or was I having extremely good luck during those years. One thing I am sure of it couldn’t have been a guardian angel.
It felt good being off on adventure again, even though I would be alone, I vowed to make the best of it. Basic was more regimented then AIT, since I was going to Signal School which was more like being in High School with boarding. Except for KP (kitchen police) and guard duties it was very relaxed. The problem was it left us too much free time to get into trouble. On Friday and Saturday nights we were off to Augusta to drink and whore. None of the three times I bought whores were very fulfilling, just mechanic pumping with little pleasure. The titty bars were even less satisfying, even drunk I found myself feeling sick to my stomach looking at hot girls wearing sweat stained panties with disgust. Every time I visited those clubs it seemed like they were wearing the same panties, I wondered if they ever washed them.
I wasn’t trying to judge them but I couldn’t help comparing them to my wife who even when we were on the road homeless always kept her hygiene up. She was a very clean girl with lots of self-respect who valued loyalty and faithfulness above all. I hate and will always regret the fact that I wasn’t as faithful to her as she was to me. Especially in view of the fact; she accepted my sexual flaws and always tried to help me improve my inadequacies. I always wonder how different my life could have been if I would have been so rebellious and stubborn towards her. If she wouldn’t give in to something I wanted to do I frequently would brutally ignore her advice and do it anyway. Sometimes it would work out alright but sometimes I was totally wrong in my ideas leading to a disaster which I usually left for her to right.
After two and a half months of training one of the guys I was hanging out with returned from going AWOL (absent without leave) for a week. It was payday the next day so we went to town that night together. He had brought some decent weed back with him and after hitting the clubs awhile. We visited a local gun store where I bought two 25 automatics with two extra clips each and two boxes of ammo. We went to an isolated, dilapidated wharf to load them and try them out, while we smoked some more. He kept telling me how great it was in Connecticut where he was from, and how much he hated the army. He said he was going to take off the next day. I through caution to the wind, and went with him, like a fool.
My record in the army was good so far, except for getting caught with two nickel bags of weed, while being stoned out of my gourd in basic. I had gotten out of trouble since I was painting two 10’x10’ murals directly on the cinder block walls of the Battalion mess hall for the Lt. Colonel. I had gotten a friend of mine to compose who had studied some graphics design in art school to create the designs. He was helping me paint them until I got caught. The Colonel got it quashed in exchange for my working all my free time to complete the projects alone, negating the promotion and commendation medal I was going to receive.
Our errant adventure was short lived four days of privation since we were picked up in his tiny rural home town the same day we got there. By that time we were almost broke with about half my ammo left. To this day I don’t know what I was thinking or why I decided the guns. Fortunately we were only caught twice carrying them, both times in Connecticut. The first time we were patted down by a County Sherriff Deputy two counties away from his, who didn’t want us hitchhiking in his county. He felt our guns, there is no way he could have missed them, since we were carrying them in our back pockets of fairly tight jeans. But he just took us to the county line and ejected us telling us not to return. The second time was by the town constable of his home town. His parents were riding with him looking for him. He gave us a break breaking them down and bagging them up, the report said we were carrying them unloaded. His parents drove us to the Hartford Navy Base. The Shore Patrol drove us to Providence, Rhode Island police station where the Army Military Police picked us up three days later, taking us to Fort Devin’s, Mass. They confiscated my guns and gave us train tickets to the Boston Airport. We had Vouchers for our air travel and arrived back Fort Gordon the next morning to big trouble. He was sent to the stockade, me to my barracks. I never saw him again, nor do I know what his fate was.
To my surprise my wife was in the Captain’s office when I entered to be judged. I was overjoyed to see her but at the same time ashamed for letting her down. Weird as it was she was staying with the Captain and his wife until I got back. I was in shock since I was only a PV2 (one striped or rank two private), it is a breach of edict for me our families to be so familiar. He limited my suspended my punishment telling me to keep my nose clean and take good care wife. He let me know that it was only because of her that I was getting a break. As far as he was concerned he would have threw the book at me. His wife even took her looking for a place to rent and he let made me move off-post with her. It was one of the best two bedroom trailers I ever lived in with built in intercom and radio and a raised living room with a washer and dryer included, on a wooded lot with plenty of room privacy from the other trailers in the area. It had belonged to the owners of the trailer court who had recently bought a new one. The nice part was one of the guys in my company lived close by with a car and we rode to the base together.
The next two months were sweet and I kept out of trouble. But not because I was being good, I just didn’t get caught. The guy next door became my best friend there and our wives used to hang out together. One night I got guard duty, which is an all night event, with us taking turns guarding a particular post. You had two hours on and four hours off, from 6 pm until 6 am in groups of three, which amounted to having to only walk the post 2 times during the night. The worst part is feeling sluggish the next day due to uninterrupted sleep. After standing guard duty, you always got the next day off, which left me to have to walk the two miles home. I was three quarters of the way home when I saw a thrilling sight. Diapers fluttering in the breeze, I was amazed unable to believe what I was seeing. I didn’t avert my gaze as I approached the house they were next too. Suddenly I was no longer tired; my legs were flooded with energy as excitement fueled my movement. My breathing was shallow and my loins burned with desire and imagination of feeling their softness in my sweaty palms. Time seemed to stand still as I surveyed the house looking for activity inside. There were no other houses in view and the only noise was from insects, small mammals and birds. I was walking very slowly getting closer to that wonderful sight, they were looked like a bright white rows of flags calling for me to release them from their captivity and possess them. It was a compact arrangement of clothes lines in a square-like grid with a center pole supporting it. Creeping softy next to the nearest widow, I peeked inside, my heart rate increasing with the thrill of danger. I couldn’t see anyone although I could hear two voices talking in another room through the open window. In a moment of extreme desire I quickly turned and started pulled the diapers of the line, inhaling the delicious sweet, babyish sent as the pile filled my arms. I contained the first pile with my left arm while my right continued to gather more, repeating the action until they were none left. With a quick glance behind me I scurried across the road into a small stand of woods. I could hardly contain myself from the panicky feeling that was welling up from my gut. I took off my shirt and folded the whole buddle of diapers inside it. Holding it under my left arm, I took off at a brisk pace for home, my luck held as I made it to the trailer without anyone passing me. Once inside I found my wife sleeping, so I slipped into the spare room to sort and count my loot. I had over two dozen Gerber 30”x30” gauze diapers that were like new, some were slightly damp. They had the odor of Ivory Snow and freshened by a sweet breeze, there was not even a hint of chlorine bleach. The softness increased my intoxication as I separated them in piles of three for later use. Without waking up my wife I slipped into our room to get my plastic pants and add the new diapers to the dozen she had brought with her. Back in the other room I pinned on the three I had left there before donning my Gerber Toddler Plastic Pants. They still fit me comfortably since I only weighed 120 lbs. and my hips were very slim. Their only drawback was their snugness prevented the bulkier diapers which I would have preferred, and would have allowed less leakage,, Since elastic tended to slip down in the back, leaving the diapers without adequate coverage. The good part was being so snug they were not as noticeable under my loose fitting army fatigues. I found a good fantasy as I lay on the bed, enjoying a slow wank, before joining my wife in bed. In many ways I regret stealing those diapers, because it was the first time since my teenage days of stealing them. And the start of a regular habit that continued the rest of my time in the service.
The only remarkable part of my time in the army that I have not already related in other tales was after I was stationed in Fort Bragg, NC, Where I was caught in the act of raiding a clothes line, not once but twice. This is what should have curbed my actions but it didn’t. This year was 1973 in the fall. I had been raiding all the clothes lines in my trailer court which had anything of interest to me and several other ones on the back road through part of Pope Air Force base to my unit. There was even one located right on the edge of that base where I got a tremendous amount of diapers, and plastic pants, as well as women’s panties, bras and other frilly goodies. This is also the site of the raid described in the short story ‘One Stormy Nite’. If you haven’t read it and want to, look on the Soggy Press stories page.
The first incident was at a trailer four down from mine, it was one of my favorites among the dozen or so in my court, since they seemed to always have diapers and plastic pants hanging on the line whenever I passed it. The problem was they were not leaving them on the line overnight much anymore. Trailers in most of these courts were arranged with only about a dozen feet between them along their length which ranged from 50 to 70 feet. The distance between the rows varied because of the different trailer lengths but they were all two bedroom. My court was about the size of a football field containing two rows of trailers with the park road forming an oval around the all the lots. There was an entrance at each end of the court from the highway. Each lot had its own clothesline and parking space. You parked a car if you had one on the side where your front door was and you back door faced your clothesline with a heating fuel tank on the side facing the road. Most of the kitchens were in the front of the trailer facing the trailer park road, with traditional two piece curtains allowing a view outside while cooking or washing dishes. There was less chance of being seen between the trailers.
Although most people kept their curtains on the side drawn you never knew when someone might hear something and peek out of them. This increased the danger although you were sheltered due to their arrangement from any of the other neighbors seeing you unless they were diving down the road in the park. The day in question my Brigade was on maneuvers, which included the majority units of the fort. Not only did this make the base seem deserted but also the nearby trailer courts which surrounded the base, since they were mostly reserved for soldiers and their families. I felt like I was walking through a ghost town as I walked home, because it was only halfway through the six weeks scheduled to last. The majority of wives usually took this opportunity to leave until their husbands returned and mine was no exception. I had come in for a dentist appointment and would be returning to the field the next day.
On my way to my own trailer I spotted a sweet looking bunch of plastic pants on that clothes line. I checked out the rest of the trailers on my way by and everything seemed quiet. I went inside and changed into civilian clothes before going back out to do some stealing. I walked on the other end of the trailers, down the rows and then between the two where my treasures were. With only a quick glance at the darkened trailers on either side I started peeling off my loot.
I had only acquired two pair of plastic pants, when I heard a shout behind me. I quickly cranked my head around in complete shock to see a shirtless blond harried man glaring at me through his trailer window. He cranked open his window and demanded to know what I was doing and why, I stood there like a deer could in mid-flight in a complete panic. The air seemed to thicken slowing not only my response but my intentions to take flight. I couldn’t even form a verbal response to his continued questions and demands for me to stop what ever it was I was doing. We were like two frozen statues staring at each other for eternity.
The elasticity of the moment ended when he left the window and opened his front door, I franticly tried to pin the pans back on the line in an effort to reverse my actions, but my body wouldn’t cooperate. I ended up dropping both pairs and fleeing back the way I had came in complete rout. I wisely passed my trailer and continued near the end of the rows of trailers before coming between a pair of them onto the park road, slowing to a walk trying to act normal without looking behind me. Somehow he had flanked me and was suddenly directly in from of me blocking my retreat, and demanding my surrender. As the distance between us narrowed I pulled my pocket knife to ward him off. In a half-crouch, we were like two bucks dueling over a doe in heat, turning in union in a circular direction I managed to out flank him and the way was clear for further flight. I refused to not only to answer his questions but also his final request for surrender. Luckily he declined to advance any closer to me, so I slowly backed away lengthening the distance between us. He followed me when I turned my back to leave the scene but after I turned around and charged at him in a rage he finally gave up and left me alone. I walked down the road about a mile and waited for what seemed like an eternity before slinking back to my trailer vowing to stop my criminal behavior.
I was very careful when I returned from the field not to run into that guy again. The lucky part being no one seen our little show and I didn’t know any of my neighbors. I always took the long way around when walking any where near his place. And stopped my stealing at least in my own area, it had frightened me at least that much. Two months I discovered his place was empty, when my wife made friends with the family I had almost been caught sealing from. They had a car and we didn’t which helped my wife go shopping when I was at work. We hung out quite a few times until they also moved away. It was very strange to me and I was on edge every time we were around them, in doubt to what the might know. Especially after finding they had been close friends with the man who had caught sight of me stealing. They must have received a poor description; since I was never accused. We got together one Friday night to drink and play cards before the subject was finally broached. I don’t remember how it came up or why, but thankfully I wasn’t looking either of them in the eye when it did. It gave me time to compose myself enough to shrug it off and act surprised and outraged by someone doing something so strange. We ended up laughing it off and it ended. It was awkward but thrilling to finally hear someone wonder why anyone would steal diapers and plastic panties, Later that night I got some strange knowing looks from my wife, who had never asked me where all my diapers and other things came from. I am sure she had figured it out long before but chose to feign ignorance.
The second time I was caught in action stealing plastic pants could have been a lot turned out even worse but luck was once again riding my coat tails that time. It was the summer of 1975. I had a car by then and was supplementing my income driving a taxicab part time on base. During one of my slow evenings, I started cruising the on-base housing. Pretending to look for fares, I was really scoping out all the clotheslines I could find.
I finally spotted what looked like a likely target behind a group of enlisted men’s family housing units. I parked my cab fairly close and took hopefully casual walk towards my intended target. It was twilight but the security lights in the area enabled me to confirm a couple of pairs of plastic pants dangling from the line. I passed them up in an effort to look innocent, when I reached to other end of the building I retraced my steps this time close enough to the clothes lines to be able to pick them off the line as I passed them, without pausing. I figured if I was smooth enough in my approach no one would even notice.
I was wrong, within seconds after procuring them, I was hailed and being chased by two shadowy figures. I ran straight to the cab, barely starting it before they were upon me. I slammed it in gear and took off as fast as I could. I was speeding in a residential district, which was almost as bad a crime as my theft on a military reservation. A couple of blocks away I relaxed enough to slow down to the speed limit. But to my dismay, I found myself being followed. I tried to contain my obvious paranoia, making several abrupt turns, before discovering I was really being followed. The best part about driving a cab is learning the whole layout of the base. I used all this knowledge to lose them, as I made to the cabstand to clock out for the night. The whole time was worried they be waiting for me at the office or might call them to report my crime or even worse the MP’s (Military Police). If they did either of them I never found out and this is the first time I told anyone else about it. Even though it was petty theft it was on a Federal Government Property and any crime there is magnified because of it. The least that would have happened to me was being drummed out of the service in dishonor and lose of most of my veterans’ benefits. I never hunted on the base again but I didn’t reform either. Was Satan was aiding me or was I having extremely good luck during those years. One thing I am sure of it couldn’t have been a guardian angel.
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