Elastic Days on the Plain
by
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CHAPTER 1: Incidents and Accidents
The tale, fictitious as it may sound, real as it was.
P. Peter in the spring of his accumulating years. Why were they doing this to him?
He hadn't a clue.
Had always done his best. To keep out of the way. To go unnoticed. Had walked around cigarette butts just to be sure. That no one could say he did it.
So cautious. And now this.
"I have this life to look after. A long perplexing cycle. That only goes up . . . in order to come down."
P. Peter
Treading soft as he can down these elastic days. Which tend to snap back at him.
A soldier.
In this the American Air Force.
And somehow involved in a squadron. As the commander.
What does one know of this business of leading? Necessary to pick a direction and walk ahead. To tell others what is right, and what is not. It is indeed too much. The responsibility.
Thank God it is peacetime here.
P. Peter's office, a former latrine. Stools and basin removed. Remaining pipes capped. Faint lingering odor. More likely in the head than the nose. Painted in a light and nauseous military green. Not altogether unpleasant. Where the stool used to be, a swivel chair and large gray metal desk. Behind, a radiator and window. That's the extent of the transformation.
Each morning sitting static in the swiveling chair. For an hour, or two. Trouble getting started. Afraid. To put a hand to anything. Every action fraught with danger. Every order reciprocating. Bouncing back at you. The OUT basket clean like a whistle. The IN basket growing to new heights. Every document potentially inimical. Best to let them sit, like sleeping dogs. Mellow. Urgency fades with time. Also best to keep a few dozen scattered about the desk top. Creates the proper impression. Of lots of work. Snooping noses about, don't you know.
Swivel chair has arms and leans back. The chief clerk complaining of heel marks on the documents.
"How could that happen?" asks P.
"I wouldn't want to say, sir."
"Then don't."
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About the Book
This volume explores the underbelly of the US Air Force of some 40 years ago and its impact on the life and decision of a young alleged commander of troops looking for . . . well, you'll see. Mathematically, it is about 30% fiction and 70% reality. The persons therein are 80-90% real, sometimes surreal. Same for the military organization. Most names are changed, locations in Europe and the U.S. are not.
Don't let the humor throw you. It is crucial to the context and allows the alleged commander to survive past the final page. Military machinations? There is that, orchestrated by the officer corps, as well as competence and incompetence of all corps. Love? You bet, and sex and minor violence, too. Terror? Well, of an institutional sort. Philosophy? Indeed, from West to East and including: the modern, the martial, the near marital, and that which is said to be mysterious and leads one elsewhere on the planet.
And although this all took place a long time ago, it is undoubtedly still happening. Perhaps to you. Perhaps it already did. Questions are raised. A few are answered. Leaving some, like the author, still looking.
About the Author
Somsak J. has survived lower & higher education in two countries, the US military machine, life on three continents, foreign aid and development organizations, a number of cultures, employment in educational institutions, love & love lost, and the initial journey into old age. At times, he has 'seen the light'. Other times, he has taken a darker view of things. Through this, he has tried to maintain a sense or semblance of reality, sometimes surreality. What's he got left? A whole lotta experiences. And a sense of humor.