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Purple Daze Page 6

Got a damned bill though, forwarded from

  the telephone company.

  Missing everyone, Phil

  P.S. Did you hear about the bed-wetting Klansman who went to his meeting in a rubber sheet?

  Mickey

  USS Hermitage LSD-34 Lost at Sea

  Dear Cheryl,

  Does Don feel like a big man with his pot?

  That bastard still hasn’t written. It’s a shame, too.

  I’ve got so much stuff to tell him. Stuff you just

  can’t tell a girl.

  I went to New York last weekend. I got

  drunk on top of the Empire State Building

  with a girl.

  We threw paper planes off it.

  Love, Mickey

  P.S. I still have 9 letters to write tonight.

  Ziggy won’t be one of them.

  P.I.S.S. Has she lost any weight?

  Ziggy

  My first word wasn’t

  Momma or Dadda like most kids.

  Bubba,

  because I couldn’t say brother.

  Hey, Bubba?

  It’s still just you and me!

  Suggestion Box Room 206

  I didn’t put a note in the box before because I thought it was a big joke. But I noticed the Hall Pass is now kept in an envelope by the door. Can we get a pencil sharpener that doesn’t break off the lead?

  Believer

  Maybe we could trade clothes sometime?

  Your Fan

  I suggest you use this box for a piñata.

  No Dummy

  I like all animals because they don’t yell at you or tell you what to do. Maybe we could have a class pet? A gerbil or snake?

  The Listener

  Can we change seats after mid-terms?

  Serious Student

  Here Lies Bored-to-Death

  Thanks with particular gratefulness for allowing extra credit due to the circumstantial occurrence of my parents late-nocturnal-shift employment, which necessitated babysitting chaperone duties over my youngest sibling. I absorbed your library suggestion and savored the drawings depictions of sheeps as homo sapiens even if it wasn’t a comic book.

  Always Late

  Phil

  Hi Doll,

  I get $20 every 15 days. I put $10

  in my wallet for the 30-day leave

  I’ll have when I get out of here.

  The other $10 is for smokes and beer.

  Beer is only 15 cents a can

  and most of the time it’s free.

  Schlitz or Pabst Blue Ribbon.

  Does the job though.

  What has the Navy done for Mickey?

  They say the service changes everyone.

  One thing for sure, Nam is changing me.

  I’ve never been so goddamn horny in my whole life.

  Luvya, Phil

  P.S. I’ll be a Lance Corporal soon.

  P.P.S. I’ll drink an extra beer for you tonight.

  P.P.P.S. Maybe I should send Nancy some USO

  stationery and a few pens.

  Nancy

  * Love, a losing game

  One I wish I never played

  Gamblers never win

  * Haiku: Ms. Hawes’s class

  Mickey

  USS Hermitage LSD-34 Puerto Rico

  Dear Cheryl,

  One of the guys wants to write

  a couple of lines for the hell of it:

  Hey Babe,

  I would very much like to take you

  out when we are on the West Coast.

  Mickey has told me all about you and I

  think we could have a nice time together.

  It will be sometime in April

  so sa veadate for me o.k.?

  Well, guess I’ve said enough

  so here’s Mickey.

  P.S. Be sure and save a kiss for me.

  His name is Teague but we call him

  Narcissus. If you don’t know who

  that is look it up in Greek mythology.

  He’s from Texas and all.

  Please don’t listen to the Mick because

  I’m not really conceited because

  conceit is a fault and I have no faults.

  He said to say that he’s really good-looking.

  Sad isn’t it?

  Love, Mickey

  P.S. Thanks for the fudge.

  Phil

  Hi Cheryl,

  How are things?

  I’m sitting in my hole,

  trying to stay awake,

  wondering where the war is.

  I’ve learned two things:

  Never take off your boots

  unless you’re showering.

  Never turn in your M-16 once

  it’s drawn from the armory.

  Well, I ain’t visited a shower in days.

  Think I’ll risk it. Gunther has hotel soap from

  his leave in Thailand. It smells like pretty girls,

  warm feelings.

  As always _________ _________ !!! Phil

  P.S. Marines requisition about anything,

  even Kotex. Great bandages, helmet pads,

  slathering BBQ sauce on pigs.

  Ziggy

  Another Colt-45 goes on the pyramid

  in the corner of Bubba’s living room.

  Bet there’s a thousand of them stacked

  on each other, aluminum acrobats.

  Bubba opens a tidy roll of wax paper,

  pinches dried green stuff,

  sprinkles it on a Zig Zag,

  rolls it smooth,

  twists the ends.

  “Wanna try some?”

  “Why not?”

  Being a good brother,

  he talks me through the steps,

  even though I’ve seen him smoke endless joints.

  I focus on the red-glow tip, choking

  back fried apple pies from McDonald’s.

  “Far out.”

  Bubba tickles me till I pee my pants.

  Phil

  Dear Cheryl,

  There are two types of warriors here,

  classified by drugs.

  Drunks destruct in alcohol, fighting among themselves.

  Potheads rely on marijuana, peaceful and agreeable.

  You can tell a Head by their smokes.

  Never flip-top boxes. Always soft packs,

  opened from the bottom.

  A carton of Kools, $2.50.

  Mama San skillfully rolls each cigarette

  between her palms—tobacco tumbles—

  replacing with high-grade marijuana.

  The new cigarettes are tapped back in their packs.

  Each one stacked in its carton. All for $10. A $12.50

  investment yields 200 mentholated marijuana cigarettes.

  I carry a pack in my shirt pocket,

  lighting up here, there, everywhere.

  Miss you, Phil

  P.S. Don’t believe Johnson when he says

  counterinsurgency in the countryside

  is winning the “hearts and minds”

  of peasants. Bullshit!

  Mickey

  USS Hermitage LSD-34 Pussy Patrol

  Don—

  Last week we landed on this small island.

  The native women were topless. Man, you

  should’ve heard the cheers from our ship!

  So the damned chaplain passed out Navy T-shirts.

  Here’s the kicker:

  the women cut holes in front for their tits,

  no shit.

  “The Mick”

  P.S. Did you know Cheryl writes really bitchin’ letters?

  Let me know if you aren’t gonna write, so I can

  stop wasting government stationery.

  Ziggy

  I wrote Ms. Hawes a note so she’d know we

  learned the difference between lie and lay

  in elementary school—that the stupid questions

  about chickens getting laid are from jerk-of
fs.

  I scribbled the who’s-your-best-friend essay

  with a busted pencil because that’s all I had.

  Ms. Hawes didn’t make me copy it over in ink.

  She’s the only teacher who makes me feel like a

  real person. Most of the teachers here haven’t

  bothered to learn my name.

  Phil

  Hey there, Cheryl,

  I love your letters about what’s happening

  back there, especially the homey little phrases.

  I’m enclosing a shot of myself behind a

  50-caliber machine gun. This machine killed

  13 VC 3 nights ago.

  We drink beer constantly and most of the time

  we’re half lit. If I quit drinking it’ll be because

  I stopped a bullet.

  I can shave my arm with my knife without a nick.

  That 6-inch blade is sharper than any razor.

  Later—Phil

  P.S. I sure miss the sweet aroma of my mom

  frying bacon on a Sunday morning.

  Mickey

  USS Hermitage LSD-34 Non-Virgin Islands

  Dear Cheryl,

  Congratulations on your grades and all. If

  everybody keeps up their grades maybe our

  crowd will make something of their selves.

  Next week we’re going to Jamaica.

  They have legalized prostitution there.

  I’m not the type to buy it, but betcha I do.

  I won $28 playing cards last night,

  no kidding.

  Love, Mickey

  P.S. I fell asleep on the flight deck for 2 hours

  and have the most bitchin’ tan on my face.

  Cheryl

  Don said we should invite Ziggy to see the new Beatles movie Help!

  because it’s supposed to be funny and Ziggy could stand cheering up

  which I know better than anyone so I don’t say anything when she

  squirts Sloe Gin out her nose wrecking my new paisley hip-huggers

  in a laughing spasm because Ringo gets a sacrificial ring stuck on his

  finger and a couple of bumbling scientists named Professor Foot and

  Algernon chase the Beatles from Buckingham Palace to Switzerland

  and I think the story is stupid even though John said something cool

  in an interview about getting loaded while making the movie, “we

  were smoking marijuana for breakfast ... and nobody could commu-

  nicate with us because it was just four glazed eyes giggling” and then

  I think about Phil and wonder if he gets a chance to laugh between

  crouching in paddies and giving Juicy Fruit to Vietnamese kids with

  missing limbs and just about that time Ziggy pukes in a box of but-

  tered popcorn and I tell Don it’s time to go.

  Phil

  Hey Sexy,

  As far as a Navy guy in your wallet, a shot of a

  Zipperhead would be an improvement. We might

  not be as bright and shiny as the squids, but

  ground pounders are more proud of their grime

  than squids are of their shine.

  As far as taking care of myself, don’t worry.

  4 dead buddies before breakfast is enough to make

  anyone careful. The 4th guy caught a sniper round

  in his chest during a fire mission.

  We emptied his pockets:

  pack of smokes, Black Jack gum,

  an envelope postmarked Baton Rouge.

  Dropped everything with the twisted dog tags

  in a plastic bag and looped it around his wrist.

  Me and Gunther wear AK47 Rounds as necklaces,

  gook protection. Slipped rubbers over our rifle muzzles

  to keep out rain. Can shoot through ’em.

  Hell, I shouldn’t be writing about this stuff.

  Phil

  P.S. The radio is playing something about dudes

  named McGuinn and McGuire who couldn’t

  get no higher. Nice tune.

  Cheryl

  Ziggy leans against my locker:“Wanna cut class? My

  brother’s across the street.”

  I say, “Kramer’s giving a test.”

  “Like I care.”

  “I studied till two.”

  “One zero. It’ll average in.”

  “I get paid for As.”

  Ziggy pops NoDoz and Sleep-Eze.

  “Mick would have a fit if he saw you.”

  “Who’s going to tell him?”

  Not me.

  “No one gets it. Enlisting was

  like sleeping with some girl.”

  I get it, Ziggy.

  House Of Representatives

  Mr. Bray (Republican, Indiana) speaks to a proposed bill adding 4

  words to the Selective Service law “knowingly destroys, knowingly

  mutilates” referring to draft registration and classification cards that

  all men in the United States between the ages of 18 and 35 are required

  to obtain and keep in their possession:

  “The need for this legislation is clear. Beatniks and so-called

  ‘campus-cults’ have been publicly burning their draft cards to

  demonstrate their contempt for the United States and our resistance

  to Communist takeovers ... Just yesterday such a mob attacking the

  United States and praising the Vietcong attempted to march on the

  Capitol but were prevented by the police from forcibly moving into our

  Chambers. They were led by a Yale University professor. They were

  generally a filthy, sleazy beatnik gang ... This proposed legislation to

  make it illegal to knowingly destroy or mutilate a draft card is only one

  step in bringing some legal control over those who would destroy

  American freedom.”

  —The bill was brought to a vote and passed the House by 393 to 1 with 40 not voting on August 13, 1965.

  —President Johnson signed the Bill into law on August 30, 1965.

  Mickey

  USS Hermitage LSD-34 Guantanamo Bay

  Dear Cheryl,

  I’m here in Cuba soaking up the sun.

  The base is 45 square miles. Just like a city.

  Civilians live in it and all that junk.

  I’m standing watch on the back of the ship.

  If I see anyone swimming it’s my job to find

  out who they are and if they don’t answer up

  I’m suppose to fire a shot in the water near them.

  If they still don’t answer up I swear to god

  I’m suppose to shoot to kill. This is an enemy

  country. The base is only leased to us.

  So far I haven’t killed anybody.

  Love, Mickey

  P.S. The cookies you sent were mostly crumbs

  but the guys still appreciated them.

  Phil

  Dear Cheryl,

  Did you know it’s possible to have

  110% humidity without rain? It’s so hot

  I sweat salt through my flak jacket,

  which makes it heavier than the usual

  6 pounds, 6 ounces.