Okinawa Prison (Part 10)

I remembered one night, a couple of weeks after my restriction ended I felt the need to relieve myself from the “oki goggles.” That being said those that know what I mean it is when you are confined to the Okinawa bases with very little females to look as as the majority of the populations were men. The women that made up the small percentage were most likely family members or spouses. Of the remaining females, the ones that looked good were always taken and people would do whatever for them. The remaining that were not taken were the ugly slut types that would have a different man every weekend. Eventually getting pregnant. While I was in Okinawa I took every opportunity I could to leave base. To do something. Anything. My usual outings were as followed: McDonald’s, Hoka Hoka Tei, CoCo Ichiban, Kokusai St, Mihara St, Naha, the arcade to name a few. I did what I could to “escape” the EGA even if it meant for a couple of hours.

One of the places I remembered very well was a place called Mihara St. or as many know it as “Whisper Alley.” Now those of you who have been there know what it consist of, rows and rows of hookers;bars and bars in between. I did not want to waste my time chasing tail on base so I did it the smart way and took a honcho out to the place of pleasure. Getting a libbo buddy to come out with you on a work day is very challenging but sometimes a little persuasion and some McDonald’s would usually do the trick so I would always go out on Wednesdays. One night I remember I went to the company’s shit bag room Lcpl. Nasti who was a funny dude to watch as he did not care about being on time to work, doing the right thing or following orders. This dude seriously did not give a shit and I kind of admired him for his bravery. I go knocking on his door and he comes out all drunk. “What up!?” he says. “Want a beer?” Is how I replied but I also implied that he had to come with me to Mihara so that I could get him a beer at the little hole in the wall bars while I did my thing.

“Mihara dori kudasai.” Mihara street please is what I told the honcho driver as he sped out of base. Lcpl. Nasti was burping and slurring in the back seat and I was speaking my Japanese to the honcho driver. We arrive in the zig zag concrete jungle at middle part of the island where all the apartments and condos end up leading you to this hidden hub of eutopia where you could actually have a good time drinking and look at some beautiful national women with out the repercussion of being in trouble of having a female in the barracks. I got Lcpl. Nasti some sake and some Orion beer and he was happy watching a base ball game on T.V. I went out to do my shopping and I did my thing for about 45 minutes. I get relieved of all the stress I had for the day and I go back to the (Izakaya) Japanese for little bar and I expect to see Lcpl. Nasti waiting for me to go back on base. What I saw was Lcpl. Nasti leading a little Japanese party with Japanese men and women in suits, eating sushi, beer in one hand, arms over each other while Lcpl. Nasti was standing up singing kareoke. I come in and he introduces me to the nationals and they bought five more bottles of sake for all of us to drink. Fast forward a couple of hours and Lcpl. Nasti is slapping me in the face and I am knocked the fuck out on the couch this time the T.V off, the chef cleaning up, the nationals gone and Lcpl. Nasti poiting to his watch. I look down and see that we have fifteen minutes to get back on base or else we get burned. We get a taxi and pay him extra to drive extra fast to get us back on base. We make it at 2356, four minutes before inferno time and we make it back to the barracks. I go to my room at around 0200 and pass out into a drunken spell. Two and a half hours later we get woken the hell up by Sgt. Nazi and all his Corporals and we are ordered to get our stuff ready for a stupid change of command ceremony that I totally forgot about. I get up, ground spinning, put my shit on and try to go out when my roommate points out that I am missing an alligator clip and motivatingly says he won’t “let me” get out of the room like that and he proceeds to get the NCO’s. They come in and start chewing my ass and telling me to find it but I could not find it as I did not have it. Finally one Corporal lends me a spare one and called me a “shit bag” for not being prepared.

Lcpl. Nasti also woke up late as he was drunk as usual and you saw a group of NCO’s gathered around him screaming to his face. He was just impervious as usual as he did not give a shit. We all finally get in formation after all our uniforms, LBV’s, canteens and rifle slings were inspected and we were waiting to stand by to march to the armory to pick up our weapons. The clouds were looking pregnant and we knew that there was going to be some serious rain to come and we waited inside in the first floor by the duty before we went out. “What that fuck are you doing motherfuckers!” Sgt. Burn said “get the fuck outside in fucking formation dick faces!” Is what he replied. We get outside in formation and just wait. We heard a thunder and “boom” is what we heard as it came with out a warning. The rain was hitting first a couple of yards behind us and the rain drops sounded like hail hitting the floor. We got soaked in 3 seconds from cover to boot and it was a rain that did not let up. We were getting so soaked that the bill of the cover looked like a little water fall falling in front of your face. All the Sgt’s were discussing inside what to do and decide who was going to march us to the armory. I guess a couple of them forgot to march or they did not do any Corporals or Sergeants courses. Anyways we were outside in this heavy ass rain for a long time while the Sergeants were arguing and had to call another Sergeant to march us to the platoon. As the Sergeant finally comes out I am freezing, miserable and sick to my stomach from last night’s escapade. As soon as I heard the “rrrrrrright, FACE!” I said to myself, “this is going to be one long day.”