The Stockade

by Sterling Meeuwen

Army jail… I’ve been there…. Why I was driving up the I 95, headed to the stockade in, Ft Knox, is a long story and even longer when I tell. For this particular, story the terms of my incarceration are not relevant…; but there I was, in a van with two Sgt. From my unit. Earlier that day, after my court-martial the commander looked me in the eye and explained how proud of me he was because I “took it like a man”. What a fucking shitbird. This sorry excuse for an officer sent me up the river then wants to shake my hand? Fuck that for laugh, which incidentally is what I did. I was then put in shackles and taken to general triage, for my physical, before being sent off to the stockade. Making things worse I did not really like the two NCOS that were escorting me to my sentence. One of them was a Jamaican that did not smoke pot. The other was some sort of Latino; and it seemed to me these two were afraid they would both loose their citizenship if they went against command.

Forty five days was the jist of it all… My coconspirators, pulled a cake detention center; a navy brig in Fla., not me; my lucky ass got a maximum security center in Ft. Knox KY, an old school kind of place. . I was always a good kid. I had never been arrested for any thing. The worst I ever got was dention in high school for getting too into a political argument with one of my teachers. This Seemed so unreal to me; any minute now I am going to wake up in the field and this would all be one very weird dream… To tell the truth when those Steele bras rolled shut; I thought, fuck mate, did John Dillinja look through these bars…no it’s not that old… but it was… and I was there.

They put me in an isolation cell at first. These first twenty four hours are critical. You can apparently tell a persons complete mental health profile in twenty four hours. Humans being animals, this may be true. When my pets get sick I tend to give them twenty four hours to sort themselves out. We are of course animals. So why not watch a tiger before you put him in with the rest of the jungle. That’s not the reason they gave us though. To prevent suicide this is done. I was, not at all suicidal. Fucking hungry is what I was! It had been whole day since I had put any good army chow down my gullet. Soldiers, like German Sheppards, need to eat. My little convoy left Ft Benning almost twenty four hours prior. Do my trial I missed chow. This means you do not eat. If you are not there when chow is served, the army figures you’re not really that hungry. On top of that, you do really good drugs you do not eat… I had just returned from a rave in ATL; so I had not had any form of sustenance in Oh… I don’t know thirty six hours.
Around my cell there wasn’t much, I suppose that’s the point… A rack, a toilet with no seat, and fucking bars… Now that I think about it, I never saw a toilet seat the whole time I was in the stockade. I wonder if the guards had them. In my general population cell we had two toilets. No toilets seats. One toilet was for number two and the other one was for the golden one… seriously no seats. Now mind you, these are the style of shitter you had in school; old institutional commodes. No seats mate! I almost fell in any time my skinny ass tried to shit.

Not only was I hungry, but my bowels had not moved in the same amount of time, so, me being the super sapper I am; I braved said seat less toilet and pulled down,. There your hero was… pants around his ankles; letting twenty four hours go, lost in thought; fishing with Brennner, There is nothing better than being on the water with Bob when something grabbed me.; The squeak of un oiled wheels pierced through my reverie, could this really be dinner…., Sure enough; as soon as I am just about to pinch off a loaf, for the division’s record books, this hot mixed girl walks up to my cage with chow. Does size matter… do I matter …. FUCK!!!

So there I am with my pants down, sitting in my cage… staring at this hot cop… not knowing what to do… Now, those of you that know me; know there have been times in my life when I can be really smooth, but no… I finished my deal… pulled my pants up and turned to the sink… my hands washed, I exepted my my food. She smiled… but, it was defiantly not at all right. my life would never again be what I thought it was.

A women in a command position, has always given me a raging fucking hard on. This fucking girl had a badge and a gun! I will tell you; lessons often come when your not tying to learn. Most people do not see what, our chief, says is a” teachable moment”… NOT ME! That very second I learned that we all pooh… And chicks with guns are hot! Most important, if you go to jail… wait till you get to general population to shit!