There are several things you must understand about THE DOOM PATROL. We were just ordinary guys, and we clung to each other because we ordinary...strange guys. you know, the kind of guys that everyone else thinks are weird, or strange. We weren't that different from anyone else. But since we were thought to be crazy, strange or just plain weird we formed our own little circle of friends. The best thing was ANYONE could join or clique. Our only requirement was to look out for one another. Well, we had a few other rules, but anyone cool could dig 'em.
RULE ONE: No Good Deed Goes Unpunished. Just don't be a dick about it.
RULE TWO: Life is a party, but its BYOB.
RULE THREE: Never forget the sacred words. Nee, Pang and Naywhong.
journey with me now to Germany in the early mid 1990's and experience the adventures of the Doom Patrol!
Hey, I changed the names (especially mine) To protect the innocent. (Especially me) any relationship to anyone living or dead is fictional, except that these were real people but names have been changed, blah, blah, blah.
CHAPTER DRIE (3)
I'VE HAD WEIRD BOSSES BUT THIS GUY WAS CRAZY! or MY REAL JOB IS TO PRETEND I DON'T SEE ANYTHING or GETTING TO KNOW MSG WEBB...for once I had a decent job. My last duty station at Fort Campbell sucked! this one was a dream, but I still had to contend with the people I worked with...
So far I never explained that I actually did have a job at 51st MNT battalion. I was the new Battalion Illustrator, or Graphic Designer...they really didn't need a graphic designer so I ended up as a sort of clerk who could draw. I worked in the S-3 shop and the people there when I first got in were Mrs. James, a civilian aide, SGT Houston, Sergeant First Class Pressley, SSG Henderson and the boss, Master Sergeant Webb.
Mrs. James was kind of religious. She was very nice too. I still miss her. she always made me feel like someone cared. SGT Houston and SFC Pressley were into body building. They were both big, muscle guys and they talked about body building a lot. The both of them were good people, too. Excellent NCO's. SSG Henderson was really cool. He was personable, he talked to you, not at you. A very, very good man. ..and MSG Webb...he was a good guy...one of those guys that had been in the Army for a million years and really knew his stuff. He was kind of nutty though. He was leaving soon when I got there. He was due for reassignment and we all knew it would be his last. He would go to his next station, serve his time then retire. But MSG Webb was a workaholic too. He would stay and work hours after the close of business...and he said crazy things to me every so often. He hated driving on the Autobahn, the German highway...no speed limits. People would shoot past you, cut you off, etc. We'd be in a military truck and he'd tell me "Hit 'em Dante! They can't hurt this truck! Don't let them cut you off! Just ram 'em and teach 'em a lesson!" Of course I didn't...but I was shocked he said it because he was serious!
He also could not remember my name! They guy I replaced was Williams. (read "This looks like the beginning of a beautiful Friendship...) My name is Dante. (Actually its NOT, but I'm trying to protect my real identity. Heck, there are probably some clever readers that have figured out my real name, anyway)For MONTHS MSG Webb would call me Williams, and I mean months after Williams was long gone. Now, Williams was a short, balding white guy. I'm a tall, pretty good looking black guy. We looked nothing alike. But MSG Webb would call me Williams all the time! "Williams, I need this!" "Williams, I got a job for you!" " How are you, Williams" all the time. At first I just figured he made a mistake, then I got annoyed a little later on...but when it got to about three months it started to piss me off! This man never called me by my name. He kept calling me Williams. He even did it to Gork. Gork came into the office at lunch once and said 'Hey Sergeant Webb, you seen my best friend?"
"You mean Williams?"
"No," Gork said, "Dante...Williams has been gone for two and a half months."
"Oh, yeah..."
Finally there was a morning I was in a bad mood. I had missed breakfast, living with Cox was starting to get to me and it was cold and raining outside. I was just in a [unwrite]ty mood and it was 7 am and here I am going to work. As soon as I walked into the office, everyone was there already...I was a little late too, which irked me.
"Good morning, Specialist Williams." said MSG Webb.
I flipped out. WILLIAMS? for three months this man has never gotten my name right! I turned on my heel and just lost it.
"MY NAME IS DANTE, DAMN IT!" I shouted. "DANTE...NOT WILLIAMS. STOP CALLING ME WILLIAMS! WILLIAMS HAS BEEN GONE FOR THREE MONTHS GODDAMMIT! ITS D-A-N-T-E, DANTE! FOR THE LOVE OF PETE, MY NAME IS ON MY UNIFORM! YOU SEE IT EVERY SINGLE [unwrite]ING DAY! DANTE!"
There was about ten seconds of uncomfortable silence. I just stomped over to my desk, which was in an adjoining room where no one could really see me. But I started thinking "Oh [unwrite]...I just went nuts on a senior NCO. He?s going to slam me with disrespect!" You just don?t talk to a Master Sergeant like that.
I looked up from my desk and they were all standing in the doorway. Mrs. James, SGT Houston, SFC Pressley, SSG Henderson and MSG Webb. They were staring at me. I thought I was doomed. Then they all burst into laughter!
"Damn, Dante," MSG Webb said between guffaws, "I'm sorry!"
He never called me Williams again....BUT...MSG Webb was a nice guy. I liked him. Especially since he didn't write me up for losing my temper. But I didn't notice his other quirk until it was put to my attention.
I had gone to the personnel office to take care of some minor paperwork. Specialist Meyer was helping me. she'd been in Germany for a long time and used to work with MSG Webb when he was a First Sergeant at one of the other companies.
"How do like working with Boogerman?" She asked.
"Who the hell is boogerman?" I asked back.
"Sergeant Webb! you didn't know he was the boogerman?" she said in a way that sounded like I was supposed to know what the hell she was talking about.
"He's kind of weird, but why do you call him Boogerman?" I questioned. she seemed completely serious.
"Dante," she began, "You never noticed that he always picks his nose. Always. He digs in it constantly. Just watch next time you talk to him."
Well, I saw MSG Webb every day...he was my boss. He never took a day off, he was a workaholic! I forgot all about it, and a week or so went by until one day it was just me and MSG Webb in the office. Everyone else was out running errands or had the day off. I was about to leave myself, as we had some paperwork that had to be delivered to our higher headquarters about an hour away.
"MSG Webb, I'm going to run these reports up to K-town." I told him.
MSG Webb looked up from his desk and motioned for me to sit down. "Naw, you can do that tomorrow, Dante. Relax. You've been running hard all day. We should talk. I want to know how you're doing, what's on your mind, if everything is all right."
I was kind of touched. The old guy actually cared about how I was. So we talked. I told him about how we started the Doom Patrol in the barracks and he told me some interesting stories of places he'd been and things he'd seen in his 25 years in the army. But as he talked I noticed what Meyer had meant.
MSG Webb picked his nose. A lot. The whole time he was talking with me he would dig his finger in his nose, pull out a big brown booger and flick it away absentmindedly. Constantly. It wasn't a once in a few minute thing. He did this all of the time, and vigorously. It was really disgusting.
I tried to pretend I wasn't seeing this at first. But he would look me right in the eye and pick, dig and pull out, then flick. Every so often I'd here a 'thunk' as the booger hit something. Then I tried to act like I didn't mind, but I couldn't. MSG Webb didn't react at all. He really didn't notice that this was really sick. I couldn't stand it after awhile. I wanted to shout "FOR GOD'S SAKE MAN STOP PICKING YOUR NOSE!" but I didn't. I finally just got up and told him I'd deliver the paperwork, it should be done as soon as possible. So I left. But I had a chill down my spine. After that I noticed that MSG Webb did pick his nose all of the time. Its no lie, he picked it while talking to anyone and flicked the boogers anywhere. That's why people always stood a few feet away from him when he spoke to them. I told Gork about it, thinking he'd be interested in a crazy story like this. His response?:
"You mean you never noticed that? Dude, you've worked with him for 4 months!"
SERGEANT MAJOR SATAN or FROM HELLS HEART I SPIT ON THEE...
Everyone needs an arch nemesis....Spider-man has the Green Goblin, Sherlock Holmes has Dr. Moriarty...Ours was SGM Satan...
When I first got to Mannheim our unit didn't have a battalion Sergeant Major...to be honest, MSG Webb was acting in two jobs...as my boss in S/3 and as the sergeant major. But eventually we got a new Sergeant Major. He quickly made the rounds to every company in the battalion, meeting folks and getting his office together. A Sergeant Major is like a First sergeant to the Battalion commander. Kind of a Tonto to their Lone Ranger. But this guy was evil.
SGM Satan was always around...he just showed up and asked me, Gork, Huke, anyone how we were doing. He was pleasant and he smiled and patted us on the back. He did this to everyone. We all figured our new Sergeant Major was a really nice laid back kind of guy. There's a back story to this I should explain.
Every unit in the army has a different patch. Its worn on your upper left sleeve. When you join a new unit you take the old patch off and put the new one on. I personally, have two patches...I can wear a "combat patch" on my right sleeve because I served in the gulf during desert storm. But when I got to 51st MNT battalion in Germany the supply sergeant told me he was out of unit patches. Staff Sergeant Pederson, the supply NCO assured me that I didn't have to spend my money on patches, he'd get more soon. Usually when you join a new unit and get patches they give you a voucher so you can go to the post tailor shop and have the new ones sewn on for free. So I figured, I'll wait. When SSG Pederson tells me he gets some new patches in, I'll fix my uniforms and not spend my money. So for about three months I had my old patch from fort Campbell on my sleeve. I asked SSG Pederson every couple of days about new patches and he kept telling me not to buy them...he'd take care of it. So I listened to him. Hell, he was a staff sergeant. Why wouldn't I?
I came to work one morning. As soon as I walked into S-3, SSG Henderson told me the Sergeant Major wants to see us both. We didn't know why. It was 0800 (8AM). We went to his office. Not thinking this was any official business we just walked in and stood there. SGM Satan was a big guy, with a dark hair, speckled with a little gray. He had a little Hitler style mustache too. He was cordial at first...
"Good morning gentlemen." He said, leaning back in his chair, relaxed.
"Good morning, Sergeant Major!" SSG Henderson and I barked in military style.
"Sergeant Henderson, why doesn't this soldier have the correct unit patch on?" The Sergeant Major asked, in a kind of sickly sweet voice.
"Well, sergeant Major," SSG Henderson began....but he was cut off...
"I?VE BEEN WALKING AROUND HERE FOR TWO WEEKS AND YOUR TROOP HAS THE WRONG [unwrite]ING PATCH ON SERGEANT!" SGM Satan exploded. He became a wild man. He jumped out of his seat and he was really frothing at the mouth. At first I thought it was a kind of a crazy joke. Here, this guy was all sweetness and light and now he?s a raging maniac. But when I looked at SSG Henderson I saw he had instantly gone to Parade Rest ( a modified position of attention) and knew that this was for real.
We were at parade rest. Arms folded behind your back...head and arms straight ahead. You don't move. but SGM Satan was all in our faces screaming.
"WHY DON'T YOU HAVE THE RIGHT PATCH ON SOLDIER? ARE YOU MAKING LIGHT OF MY ARMY? WHY DOESN'T HE HAVE HIS PATCH ON SERGEANT HENDERSON? DON'T YOU KNOW THAT I'LL KILL YOU?" The Sergeant Major was going off. He was getting so close to us he was spitting on us. It was like all those military movies you see. But I wasn't the worm I was when I first signed on. It was pissing me off. But I had common sense. I spoke.
"Sergeant Major, the supply sergeant told me not to buy patches and to wait until he got new ones in stock. Thetas why I have an incorrect unit patch, Sergeant Major!" That explanation was actually enough in reality. It was the units responsibility to supply me with those patches and a senior NCO, (SSG Pederson) had given me those instructions. So legally I was correct. Yeah, like that calmed Satan down...
"ARE YOU TELLING ME SPECIALIST DANTE THAT YOU WOULDN?T BOTHER TO BUY YOUR OWN [unwrite]ING PATCHES!?" He was right in my face yelling. I was close to losing it. But I restrained myself. Only by keeping calm was I going to win this. "ARE YOU TELLING ME THAT YOU?RE [unwrite]ING ASS CAN?T BUY YOUR OWN PATCHES? DAMN IT, YOU?D BETTER BUCK UP SON, YOU?D BETTER START ACTING LIKE A SOLDIER!"
"Sergeant Major, ' SSG Henderson said, " SPC Dante has been waiting for the patches, and its not his fault. He probably should have gotten some, but he was told to..."
The Demon sergeant Major cut him off. "I DON?T GIVE A [unwrite], SERGEANT! THIS SOLDIER BETTER GET SOME PATCHES! I DON?T WANT TO SEE HIS ASS UNTIL HE HAS SOME PATCHES ON HIS GODDAMN UNIFORM OR I?LL SEND THE BOTH OF YOU TO HELL! NOW GET THE [unwrite] OUTTA MY OFFICE!"
SSG Henderson and I both instantly did a right face and marched smartly out of the office. Once in the hall, Sergeant Henderson took a deep breath. I knew he was pissed at the Sergeant Major, but I just stood there awaiting orders.
"Dante," he said, "Get all of your uniforms...even the one your wearing. If you don't have any money, I'll loan it to you...but go to the tailor shop and buy some patches and get them sewn on! It may take a day but I don't want to see you until you have a uniform with this units patch. Move out!"
"Affirmative, Sergeant!" I responded. I instantly ran to my room, changed into civvies, and took all ten of my uniforms to the tailor shop. I had the money. I could have had about four days off...SSG Henderson told me not to show my face in uniform until I had my uniforms corrected...but I didn't want the Sergeant major to dog him for me not being at work. It was clear he was itching for people to scream at. So I paid a rush fee for two uniforms and only had one day of 'being off'. I made a grisly discovery later in the evening.
Gork came by my room about 1715...that?s 5:15 PM for civilians...We could hear the Sergeant Major screaming at someone. My room was directly above his office!!! He had a line of soldiers and their supervisors in the hall downstairs. He apparently had spent the last few weeks seeking targets. Looking for people who he wanted to or thought were bad soldiers to yell at and punish. He had most of the soldiers in the entire company lined up. It was like watching a line of prisoners waiting to be executed. Gork and I could hear him clearly through the floor cursing at them and yelling. He cursed more than we did and he did it with a finesse only a true trash mouth could appreciate. Every other word was " [unwrite]" or " "Damn" or "Goddammit"...Finally it stopped because the Chaplain told him to stop and let these guys go home and he could deal with it tomorrow.
But Gork and I knew what this really meant...The Doom Patrol had met their first enemy....
A ROOM WITH A VIEW or LIVING WITH COX....Cox, or Captain Blood, as he liked to be called was really a god guy. But he was hard to live with. Firstly, I was about 8 years older than he was, and he liked to hit people too much...
Its surprising that Cox got to be friends with Bustos, because after Bustos had been around for a short while they got into a fight. Sort of. I had spent a lot of time talking to Cox about his habit of hitting people when he felt like it. He hit me, he hit Gork, he hit Huke...well, [unwrite] Huke, the important thing is he hit me!!! He constantly would start brawls wherever we went. It had to stop. He finally agreed to try and act like he had some sense. He had grown up in a rough neighborhood and fighting seemed to be something he?d had to do his entire life. He realized it was wrong, he just went crazy sometimes. Despite this, we all liked Cox. A lot of times when people would mess with me I made them stop by telling them I?d get my friend Cox to smash them. It worked. A lot of people were afraid of Cox.
Cox asked me to go the club with him one night. He had met a german girl there who said she had a sister that wanted to meet me. I didn't have a girlfriend at that time so I was happy to go. I told Cox to just let me run to the latrine and then I'd go with him. I was gone for about 90 seconds, tops. When I got back there was a crowd in front of our door. I brushed past them and walked into the room. Cox was standing there with that crazy look in his eyes and his fists knotted. In the corner was an unconscious Bustos! He was in a heap. Obviously when he hit the floor he bumped into our refrigerator, and knocked over my brand new coffee pot which hit him on the head and broke.
"Dammit Cox!" I shouted, "Can?t I leave you for one minute without you knockin? mother [unwrite]ers out?!"
"Dude," Cox turned to me, "Bustos walked in without knocking and started slapping me in the back of my head. I told him to stop and he said 'make me!' So I busted his ass!"
The crowd, which included The Lackey and Sneaky Jones all started backing Cox' story. Bustos did do crazy things like that. Funny thing is a day or so later Cox and Bustos starting hanging out together like the best of friends.
But it was hard to live with Cox. He didn't have a TV so he would watch mine. He would get up early on Saturdays and watch cartoons...(and the TV was on my side of the room) I finally moved it to his side. He watched it more than I did and I spent most of my free time in Gork's room anyway. He didn't have a stereo either so he would use mine...and he only had two CD's. The Young Guns soundtrack and the House of Pain. EVERY single day he would play "Jump Around" and "Blaze of Glory" over and over and over! It was maddening. I began sleeping on Gork's couch. I won't lie...Cox was my friend but I was afraid he'd go nuts and kill me if I stopped the music. Worst of all though, he would watch Young Guns everyday twice! He'd rewind it over and over again. While the tape rewound he'd play "Blaze of Glory" and "Jump Around". He would get off work earlier than I did and I could hear "Jump Around" blasting from the room when I came up the stairs. I would just change out of uniform and go to Gork's room. What made it really hard was Cox kept telling me that I was probably the only real friend he had in Germany. He was always buying me beer and picking up the tab if we went out to eat. He told me he didn't know what he'd do if I wasn't there for him. Made it real hard to be mad at him. But it was starting to wear on my nerves living with him.
Our barracks was overcrowded because another building that housed soldiers was being renovated when I first got to Germany. But it was finished and a lot of people moved. There suddenly was a lot of empty rooms. People started moving around. Bustos moved into Bagley's old room because it was bigger, Detail Man moved out of the room he shared he shared with Jett, etc. SSG Henderson was in charge of assigning the rooms and giving out keys. One day it was about time to leave work and he came over to my desk.
"Do you wanna move, Dante?..the room next to you is empty now, you know." he asked. I just gave him a non committal look. "Look, Dante," he said, "I know you don't like living with Cox. I know he's your friend, too, but I can see he's driving you nuts. You guys don't have anything in common! If you wanna move, just tell me, but make up your mind before all of the empty rooms are taken."
"I dunno, Sarge." I said, "I think it would really hurt Cox' feelings...and I kinda like the guy."
I got up and went upstairs...the Battalion offices were all on the first floor and basement level. The living quarters were the top floor. We lived in the same building we worked in. When I got to the top floor I could hear my Stereo blasting "Jump Around" and Cox was singing along so loud you could hear him in the stairway. I turned around went downstairs walked back into the office and up to SSG Henderson's desk and said "Sarge, give me the freaking key!"
He did. When I got upstairs Cox had gone out somewhere. I moved all of my stuff into the room next door except for the TV within a half hour. I had to get away from that horrible "Jump Around" and the constant viewing of "Young Guns". I left the TV so Cox could use it until he got one of his own. But when he returned a few hours later and discovered I had moved he came into my new room. I was busy arranging the furniture the way I wanted it. He looked really hurt.
"Dude," he said, "Why'd you move? I thought we were room dogs? Y'know, me and you...friends!"
"Cox," there was no really easy way to say this, "You're a good guy, man, but frankly, you're driving me nuts...and I know I must annoy you too sometimes. We're still friends, man, I just need some space." I started laughing about it for some reason. "Besides, I hate your music, man, and I just can't take it anymore."
"I'm sorry." Cox mumbled. He really was upset. He looked like I had abandoned him. "You sure you want to move out?"
"Yeah, I'm sure. But hey man, I'm right next door. You can visit whenever you want."
Cox left and he was clearly upset for a few days. He told me he was afraid he'd lost his only real friend, but we were still good friends. I think it bugged him because I hung around Gork a lot and once I moved out he hardly saw me. But it was for the best. Still, I felt pretty crummy for some reason. Like maybe I did abandon him.
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