Posted by dt on Monday, 5 May 1997, at 10:21 p.m., in response to Re: dt:
Another Story About Roswell?, posted by Barb on Monday, 5 May 1997, at 7:49
p.m.

Barb:

Just for that I'm going to tell a long boring story. Read if you are having
trouble going to sleep.

Back in 1967 when the social scene was described as in tumult, I was
studying microbiology and something at the time - molecular biology at Cal
(I looked at my graduate photo and think maybe only Capt. Zot's keen eyes
could pick me out; yes, I had very long hair which many women told me they
wish they had it).

All good times came to an end as I was drafted. I arrived at Ft. Lewis,
Washington; wherein upon my arrival (around 10 at night), they made us take
various aptitude tests (I'm sure I must've looked like a moron). Anyway,
after these tests, I had to stand in a very long line at the end of which
was a single guy sitting at a table. It must have taken an hour before I
reached this guy and table (around 3:00 am?). He was asking each guy where
they wanted to be placed while in the Army. Well, I had plenty of smart ass
answers, but instead, I blurted out the trite reply of "military
intelligence." No sooner said, this guy starts writing what I said.
Realizing I may of made a mistake, I tried to give another response, but not
before a drill sgt. tapped me on the head telling me, ohh, ever so gently,
move along now.

Well, I didn't give it another thought until the end of basic. Everybody
waited to see what their MOS would be, most got infantry school as a prelude
to being sent to South Vietnam. Our drill instructor told each of us our
MOS, 11B20, 11B20, 11B20...what the fuaaak, dt go to bldg. so and so and
wait for further instruction, 11B20, 11B20, etc. After waiting in this
gigantic auditorium for so many hours where about a dozen or so out of
probably a couple of thousand guys were still left, I figured they forgot
about me so I got up; nope, they didn't as another drill instructor kindly
told me so.

I was finally told to go to Seattle Airport to catch a plane to Dulles; this
was late Friday night. I thought I was going to LtCdr Snake's neck of the
woods, i.e., Dallas, Texas. I didn't know Dulles meant Washington, DC. After
a couple of stops in between, I arrived at Dulles early Saturday morning
(this place was new and they didn't use any people movers at this time). The
place was deserted. I thought this was a joke. I waited around for about an
hour when finally I see a military car approaching right up to me. A young
guy in civilian clothes drove me to Ft. Belvoir. I noticed that he told me
everything about the D.C. area, without mentioning Belvoir or what the hell
school I was going to go to; He dropped me off at a barracks and said take
your pick of bunks because I had it all to myself.....oh yeah he told me to
back here Monday by 0600, then left me.

Talk about weird. I can't remember what I did until Monday (but if I
remember I just might re-hash the whole thing just for Barb.

I found out Monday my little remark backfired on me. I learned what they
taught me, how to blow up power generating equipment, start riots, fire
different weapons somewhere in the hills of Virginia, how to lie (I already
was good at this), etc.

One dark and stormy night (no it wasn't but I thought it fit here), I was
looking through some old filing cabinets and I ran across some documents
which I thought were written by someone who couldn't spell magic. Oh, the
room was filled with ufo stuff, so instead of drinking with the guys; I went
to this room (I didn't know at the time I was being "appraised"). I could
not believe what I was reading (I knew nothing of Roswell let alone where it
was located.

dt -end transmission