My first day working with the Home of the Western White House, as the Cotton Estate was becoming known everywhere in and around the town of San Clemente, wasn’t a workday at all. After reporting in to the remarkably strange and alienating H.R. Haldeman, there was nothing left of the day. I went home, preparing some civilian outfit my wife and I thought might please Haldeman since everyone I’d seen at the compound had been wearing a coat and tie. Anything would obviously be better than my Marine officer’s uniform. Later in the day, I received a call at home to report to the San Clemente police chief, a call I couldn’t really follow up on or refuse to respond to. At three p.m. I drove to the police department, built halfway up a big hill overlooking the city, as a part of the fire and administration offices for San Clemente.
I didn’t have any idea of what to expect when I approached the front counter of the police department. A man with a name tag reading “Bobby Scruggs” sat talking on a desktop radio handset. I presumed him to be the department’s radio dispatcher. He looked over at me, didn’t stop talking, but motioned me around the counter and toward a closed door. I went through the unlocked door and stood in an unadorned undecorated white hall. At the end of the hall, I could see another door. Printed on that door was one word; “Chief.” I went to the door and found it also to be unlocked. I opened it and stepped inside. A woman sat at a desk, a big smile on her face.
“You must be the guy from the estate,” she said, pointing at another door.
I nodded at her, but there appeared to be nothing to say further. I went through the indicated door.
A man in uniform sat at another desk.
“Is that your vehicle?” he asked, without preamble.
“What?” was all I could think to say.
The man, obviously the police chief because of the stars on his shoulders, pointed out a window that showed the back police parking lot. I stared out, trying to figure what the man was talking about.
A Ford Bronco sat near the window, sand-colored, with giant fat tires at all four points.
“I don’t know,” I replied in surprise.
“They said you were coming to get your vehicle,” the chief commented as if that was somehow the end of our discussion.
“What’s the vehicle for?” I asked, dumbfounded by his statement. “You’re the new beach patrol for policing the sand, train tracks, and any other scrubland that runs around the Cotton Estate.”
“I am?” I asked, taking a seat in one of the chairs in front of the chief’s desk.
“I’m Cliff Murray, the chief here, which you probably figured out.” He said, and then laughed. “You don’t have a clue, do you, and that Bronco’s been sitting out there waiting for your arrival for almost a month, and finally, you show up, not knowing anything about.”
“What do I do?” I asked, not sure whether the chief liked my being where I was or hating me.
“You work for that prick in the Western White House, not me, that’s what you do,” the chief said, leaning back in his chair, obviously enjoying himself. “That idiot thinks you can patrol the beach and do God knows what else without having police powers. I’m here to tell you that you have to attend and pass the introductory course at the Rio Hondo Police Academy to become a California Peace Officer. Secondly, you have to have uniforms, which means you have to go to the police supply store in Santa Ana and buy a few. I’m sure they have an account with the federal government.”
“What uniforms do I order?” I asked, still stunned by the developments being showered down upon me“Who knows?” the chief replied. “You also need a gun and the rest of the stuff that goes with that, and you can’t possibly do the job alone.”
A silence settled over the room. I didn’t know what to say or ask and the chief didn’t seem like was going to volunteer any more than he had
“Will you help me?” I asked, not being able to think of anything else.
“I wondered what you’d do,” the Chief replied, leaning forward onto his elbows and looking deep into my eyes. “Here’s the deal, you go to the shop in Santa Ana and get your gun, leathers and uniform as a San Clemente Police Officer, and also get a couple of SCPD plastic stickers for the side doors of the Bronco. You sign up for the Rio Hondo Academy right away. You go back to the prick in the White House and tell him that you need to hire our part-time reserves, who don’t have much else to do in the winter, for ten bucks an hour each, you included. They get four bucks of that and the department gets the other six, which is four more than they get now. Finally, you work for that prick but you report to me about everything, and when you’re not working at the estate you come in and get a regular patrol car and support the city’s law enforcement effort by riding along or driving a squad car.”
My mind was spinning. Four dollars an hour was equivalent to what I was making as a 2nd Lieutenant in the Corps. If I worked most hours for the department, I would be doubling my pay. My wife and I were very close to being evicted from our apartment, among other financial problems.
“I’m in,” I replied, possibly too quickly, because the speed of my response once again made the chief laugh. I liked the man, a whole lot more than H.R. Haldeman.
“What if Haldeman says no?” I asked, wondering if what the chief proposed was really possible when dealing with people as obviously as powerful as someone like Haldeman.
“Then tell him that he can form his own police department, store and house his own Bronco, and hire the people he has to have to support what they are ordering you to do, which is probably a long way from what you’ll eventually really be doing.”
“The man doesn’t seem like an agreeable type leader,” I sighed, as I admitted the truth.
“Ehrlichman,” the Chief said as if I should know who that was, but I didn’t.
“Who?” I asked, befuddled again.
“John Erlichman is the ‘el secundo’ to Haldeman. Go to him and have him slip the deal right across the prick’s desk like they don’t have enough going on in that crazy mess of an operation. Ehrlichman is a good guy and he’s also a good acquaintance of mine.
“Let’s say he does it and we are okay to proceed, how am I to explain showing up in a San Clemente police officer uniform. He hated my Marine uniform and told me to get rid of it.”
“The prick’s a buff,” the chief replied. “I was a Marine a long time ago, in Korea. I don’t have a chest full of medals like you but never forget there are those like him who hate what you and I went through and did. He won’t even notice your police uniform, not that you ever have to wear it in front of him. He doesn’t go out to the beach parties and drink like the rest of them. He and Ehrlichman are Christian Scientists, so they don’t supposedly drink or carouse with beautiful women.
“Oh,” was all I replied, realizing that I was stepping into a world I had little or no clue about. I had no idea yet what I was supposed to be paid by Haldeman, unless it was my lieutenant’s pay in the Marine Corps, as I ran out my time, so the four dollars an hour resounded deeply within me.
“Did Haldeman serve in the military,” I asked, wondering if the chief could answer the question that was bothering me.
The comment he’d made about both Haldeman and Ehrlichman not necessarily staying away from booze or women hadn’t gone down well with me either.
“Navy, reserves only, officer, ‘nothing and out’ after the big war,” the chief replied. “Better not mention that to anyone, though.”
I got out of the chair and headed for the door.
“Call me,” the chief said, “or stop in any time. This is an unusual situation so whatever happens, is likely to be pretty unusual. The head of the Secret Service out at that place is a pretty good friend of mine if you get yourself stuck in a tough situation.”
“Thank you, sir,” I said, rising out of the chair. “One thing further,” I added, “Ah, you said that Haldeman was a prick, and I wonder why you used that term.”
“You used the phrase ‘not agreeable,’ and my word for that is ‘prick.’
I went out, thanking the chief’s secretary as I passed through her small office, and then waving at Scruggs behind the counter, who also seemed like a terrific guy. I got into my car, after pulling a small white note from under the windshield wiper. The note read: “park in the back from now on, the front is for clients and marked vehicles.”
I drove out of the small front lot, thinking about the note. In a way the note was one of acceptance, and I liked that. The San Clemente Police operation was squared away and friendly. I hadn’t expected that.
I had to get home and talk to my wife. She’d help me through, I knew. I was trying to play games with, and manipulate, the President of the country’s Chief of Staff. What was I supposed to do? I was nobody in the system, not the system of the United States Marine Corps and certainly not the United States Government. I was in way over my head and I knew it. It was only mid-day but I wanted to go to bed, get under the covers and hide.
I pulled into our driveway, slanting down onto Cabrillo Avenue, the driveway too short to even allow a Volkswagen to truly fit onto its surface without opening the garage door.
My wife was inside, waiting, while Julie drove around and around on the outside patio aboard a small battery-powered tricycle. She was a remarkable kid and fixated on the small vehicle. She’d drive for hours until the battery ran down, plug it in and then wait for hours more until it was charged again.
I’d filled Mary in on everything that’d gone down the day before but we hadn’t discussed much about any of it. We sat at the kitchen table. I loosened the only tie, not official Marine Corps, that I owned, hoping H.R. Haldeman had nothing against the British Royal Marines. The tiny insignia repeated though out the silk material was theirs. Colonel Fennessey had gifted it to me after he left, with a wonderful note.
I detailed every bit of what had happened with the chief and then waited.
Mary considered, lighting up a Kent filtered cigarette. The way she handled the cigarette was like physical poetry. I waited.
“The Bronco, that Jeep for the beach thing…” she said, surprising me. She took a drag from the cigarette and waited.
“What about it?” I finally asked.
“It’s been there waiting for you for a month,” she replied, blowing smoke in my direction.
“Yeah,” I said, wondering what she was getting at.
“It was there just before your brother was killed,” Mary went on. “You were never going to be commanding officer of anything at the base. They had to wait until you came back from Washington and the funeral. They sent you to RPS school for no rational reason at all, then gave you Top Secret clearance that only somebody way up in the government could possibly do. Somebody wants you for something and there’s no way to know what that is. The chief is guessing that too. They need a beach patrol force about as much as they need a water-skiing team to entertain off the shoreline. They could hire that done with the current police department, which the chief knows full well…and what they are doing there has probably made him angry, which is why he wants control of that outfit and you.”
I sat in silence, putting it all together. Every point she’d made fit perfectly into the mysterious puzzle that was being assembled and. developing around me. I was in the middle of it and couldn’t see through the clouds and mist, but Mary could.
“What’s the good news?” I finally asked.
“Money,” Mary instantly replied. “The reserve pay would change our life because there’s no way the president, which means his top staff as well, will be spending much time at the estate. You work for the chief when there’s nobody else there. Plus, when you write up the proposal for this Ehrlichman you put in a sum that you need on top of your lieutenant’s pay, which we’re going broke on. They want you badly for something. They won’t say they want you but everything they’re doing seems to point in that direction.”
“Well, okay,” I said, trying to take in everything she had said.
We needed the money, and what did I really have to lose other than possibly being sent back to Camp Pendleton and into the loving arms of Lightning Bolt.
“I’m headed over there to write up and give the proposal to Mr. Ehrlichman if I can find him in there. I didn’t know the president was here, but from what you’re saying he’d have to be here if those guys are here.”
“Pretty much, I think, but neither of us really know,” Mary said. “If they let you stay, then we’ll learn a lot more, but you have to be very careful not to say the wrong thing. It’s almost impossible for you, but see if you can spend as much time there as possible not saying anything at all.”
I hopped in the Volks, as Julie ground her electric tricycle by the railing along the top of the patio that ran above the garage. I sat with the car at idle, watching her pass by. I had a mission and I was dead set on carrying it through to success.
The gate to the compound was guarded by a different Marine, in fact, two Marines, a buck sergeant, and a full corporal. I stopped the car and both Marines walked over. I rolled my window down.
“You’re the new courier,” the sergeant said, motioning with one hand as the corporal moved the sawhorse, “You may proceed.”
I drove through, wondering about how strange security was, how they knew me on sight, and what a ‘courier’ might be. In RPS school they’d briefly used the phrase; “United States Courier,” and it had pertained to a traveling custodian of top-secret documents. Secret documents could be sent by registered or overnight mail, but not top secret. Those had to be hand-carried by a specially entrusted person, usually appointed by the State Department and only after an extensive background investigation.
I parked my Volks and went to the door, which magically opened, but with no Secret Service agent inside waiting for me. I walked down the hall and to the room where Haldeman worked. I stopped and leaned slightly around the edge of the door, trying to figure out what I might expect.
“Front and center,” Haldeman said, loudly but not with any nastiness in his tone.
I was hoping to find someone to tell me where Ehrlichman’s office was but there was no one about. I entered the room, walked to where Haldeman sat behind a big empty desk, and stood at attention.
“Knock it off,” Haldeman said, his voice dropping in volume, while he looked down at whatever paperwork he appeared to be working on. “You’re not in the military anymore, at least not here, and you’re not in uniform so stop acting like you are.”
“Here’s your new I.D. card”, Haldeman said, tossing an embossed card across the desk at me.
I caught it and then read the information on its front surface. The I.D. indicated that I was a courier and part of the White House staff. It was signed by G. Marvin Gentile, United States Office of Security, Deputy Assistant Secretary of State, United States Government. It looked like the military I.D. I normally carried, but was weirdly different, in that all the printing was in red instead of black.
“What’s a courier?” I asked Haldeman.
“You,” he replied, still not looking up at me.
“Whose Gentile,” I asked, trying again since Haldeman wasn’t being very informative.
“Not a Jew, obviously,” Haldeman replied, smiling slightly while he read whatever he was reading on his desk.
“Yes sir,” was all I could think to reply, remembering my wife’s instructions about remaining as silent as I could.
Haldeman finally looked up to meet my eyes.
“You’re the beach patrol, so form that unit. Get over to Ehrlichman and submit the proper paperwork to make that happen. Get back to the police chief, incompetent as he is, and take him for a ride in the Bronco, which seems to be all he wants, idiot that he is. Buy a gun. Kissinger’s coming in. You’re his driver so get out there and make sure the limo is ready to head out to the El Torro airbase. He’s coming in about two hours from now.
“Yes sir,” I replied, still near totally mystified as to what was doing at the place. “I have to see Mr. Ehrlichman, get to the police department to give the chief a ride on the beach, and then pick up Mr. Kissinger at El Torro, not to mention buying uniforms and getting a gun.”
I stared across the desk at Haldeman, but he said nothing.
“How am I supposed to do all that in two hours. It’s a half an hour drive to El Torro alone.” My own voice had risen as I talked.
How could I be expected to do impossible things when there was simply no time in which to accomplish them?”
“Ehrlichman’s right back down the hall, the limo staff is waiting for you, and you really don’t have to drive the speed limit. You were selected because these are the things you can do, so go do them,” he said, waving his right hand in dismissal.
“You have carte blanche,” he finished, as I exited through the open door to his lavish but quaint office.
I turned and left, as he went back to reading whatever he was reading on his desktop.
The secret service agent appeared again, magically, once I passed under the arch leading into Haldeman’s office.
I stopped in front of him. He just stared at me.
“What’s this Mickey Mouse I.D. card?” I asked, holding my newly embossed and red-print lettered card out to him, “ And where’s Mr. Ehrlichman’s office?”
The big man turned and walked away, so I followed.
“That “Mickey Mouse’ I.D. card carries as much weight as a general officer in any of our military services, as you’ll no doubt discover. I’ll take you to Ehrlichman’s office, sir.”
“Now you’re calling me sir?” I asked my voice nearly a whisper.
“It’s the new I.D. card, sir,” the agent replied over his shoulder, “as I indicated.”
I sighed, but very quietly. The world I’d returned to was not the world I’d left, and it was so bizarrely different that I couldn’t quite grasp the extreme, but also very subtle differences.
The agent and I passed a closed-door I’d not noticed before. He pointed, but then kept walking.
“What does ‘carte Blanche mean? I asked the agent.
“It means ‘whatever you want,’ and it goes with the I.D. card you have,” he replied, before continuing to walk away.
I knocked on the door, figuring that Marine Corps tradition probably wasn’t something honored by the White House staff. I heard nothing through the door, nor did it open, so, after waiting almost a full minute, I opened the door and stepped inside.
An older woman sat at a desk, overweight but not entirely unattractive, except for her rather fierce expression. She stared at me.
I waited, again at the loose position of attention I’d come to learn was most acceptable when facing any personnel located inside the Western White House.
“Identification,” she finally said, holding out her right hand, as the Marine guards did at the gate.
I handed over my new I.D. card.
“She examined the card, made a few notes, and then handed it back. “What do you want?” she asked.
I ran verbally through the proposal I’d not yet written.
When I was done, she seemed to sniff, and then said that she’d tell Mr. Ehrlichman, before rising from her desk chair and going through a closed door located just behind her.
I wondered what she’d tell Ehrlichman if that was who was located in the office behind the door.
The woman returned a few minutes later.
“You may enter,” she said, waving one hand languidly, before taking her seat again.
I got up and walked through the open door, carefully closing it behind me. I was prepared to repeat my request, and then to offer to submit it in writing on the following day.
“The ten thousand is a problem,” a balding man with dark-rimmed glasses said, looking up into my eyes.
“It is?” I asked, surprised that he’d picked that piece of my presentation to his secretary, out of the mass of other things I’d requested.
“We’ll have to do a thousand a month, amortized, and paid out in lump sum at the start, or that won’t work,” He intoned, looking down at the notes he’d obviously made from what his secretary told him. “And you’re requesting nine hundred and ninety-eight dollars for a handgun. You’ll need more. I recommend, for your line of work, that you allot fourteen hundred dollars for a four-inch Smith and Wesson .44 Magnum, and an additional two hundred and fifty for the armory to provide you with depleted uranium penetrator bullets loaded up to the weapon’s maximum cupric pressure limits. Don’t worry about the police department. They only allow .38’s but the .44 looks almost the same, just don’t show it to anybody there
I was blown away, not just by how much of my verbal report had been transmitted to him by his seemingly normal-looking secretary, but by his ballistic acumen and knowledge.
“You were in the military,” I said, wondering if he’d answer.
“Army Air Force, B-17’s over Germany,” Ehrlichman replied. “Anything else?” he asked.
“Do I need to submit a written proposal tomorrow?” I asked.
“Nah,” he replied like we were done. “I think we got it all. Just stand by and everything will be done by tomorrow, or Friday at the latest. This is special budget stuff. Haldeman stuff. Who knows?” he asked.
“Thank you, sir,” I replied, not knowing what else to say.
I had to get to the police chief, give him his ride in the Bronco and then drive Kissinger to El Torro. What would be provided by the next day would have to take care of itself. The Marine Corps tightly held together and analytically precise training command behavior was fast becoming a thing of the past. The White House was more a combat zone, but not, hopefully, nearly as dangerous, although the .44 Magnum comments Ehrlichman made had been disturbing to me. What would I need such a powerful handgun for if I was merely a beach patrol officer and a high-classification document courier?
Hate to nit-pick, but I find it hard to believe that battery powered tricycles were around then. That was many years before Power Wheels electric kids cars came out. Loving the books.
Thanks for the input.
Actually, In 1880 Trouvé improved the efficiency of a small electric motor developed by Siemens (from a design purchased from Johann Kravogl [ de] in 1867) and using the recently developed rechargeable battery, fitted it to an English James Starley tricycle, so inventing the world’s first electric vehicle. ~~smile
Awesome! I’ve been glued to your work since The First Ten Days. Thanks for helping me come home again.
Thanks for the worderful and deep compliment. I’m so pleased and proud to think that I’ve helped.
The next chapter of Cowardly should be up a little later today. Cowardly is a different form of combat.
Working in the A Shau made me more careful with dealing in realms of power, but it also made me
addicted to the ‘game’ of life back at home. Thanks for the loyalty, as well.
Per-order and I’ll make sure one of the earliest books off the press goes to you.
Semper fi,
Jim
Suggesting a name change Jim, from Junior to Mr. Tornado, as good grief, things just go spinning on around you !!
Hope you can lasso that thing and maintain some sanity in the strange place you now find yourself.
Can’t wait for the next chapter …..
Semper Fi
Up tomorrow, and the ‘ride’ back home has just begun.
Semper fi, my friend,
Jim
Another great and exciting story. More books to buy for sure. One question, do we ever find out about Gunney, Nguyen and the others? I may have missed something. Anyway, nicely done. Great read.
As an avid reader I’ve never had a book or story create the amount of excited anticipation that these last two books have..I bought the 3 books for the last one plus a few more you authored and I will be buying these. I believe this journey needs to be told and I’m sure I’ll read each section over and over like each one in the past ..
thank you sir
That kind of compliment is almost never written, that I’ve ever seen and the only way I can respond is by saying thanks and then promising that I will continue at
an expeditious speed…much faster than in answering this email! Thank you so very much.
Semper fi, and Happy Thanksgiving.
Jim
James… I have the same question.
The Gunny lived and retired as a First Sergeant in New Mexico where I accidentally ran into him.
We made a luncheon date but his wife told me that he could not talk to me, after he broke it.
That was the last I saw of him, back in 1985.
Semper fi,
Jim
B-17s over Germany, not over German.
Those two men’s names hit me hard when you introduced them. Holy Shit,LT!
thanks for the rather ‘back door’ compliment!
Semper fi, and Happy Thanksgiving.
Jim
At this point, did you understand why you were picked for this assignment?
I did not have a single clue. I was a low-ranking nobody, the way I saw it, with a bit of an attitude.
I would find out later, so read on…
Semper fi,
Jim
Intriguing, so many wow’s in these chapters! Looking forward to the new chapters. I have given a couple of vets your information to follow.
Happy thanksgiving
Thanks fo much Darren, as it is so very hard to get known on the Internet now and publishers of old now only publish books supposedly written by famous people.
Semper fi,
Jim
Jim, I am working on a sequel to “Pierside Metro” to be entitled “Mountainview Metro” I’m sure that you recognized some of your antics in the first novel, you won’t be disappointed in the second
Semper Fidelis my friend,
Dwayne
I deny it all!!!What strange days those were, and nights, as well…back when police were so very much different.
Semper fi,
Jim
OK LT. Never would have seen any of this coming. Have followed your story from the beginning because it was so closely aligned to my path. It has helped me take on my memories – examine them – resolve so many unresolved demons. Clearly your narrative will now go in a direction that I’ll have no experience with. However i’m hooked big time and can’t wait to see where your story goes from here. Thanks for all the help over the last couple of years!
Semper fi!
It has been a healing pleasure for me too Bob. Thanks for reading on. Although I don’t get to call in a ‘battery of six’ anymore, I was still capable of
creating a lot of trouble.
Semper fi,
Jim
Apparently as they say, somebody up there likes you! Can’t wait to see who that is, and , although we know Junior to be a true hero and warrior, the Corps didn’t seem to appreciate you at all. Now you’ve become the Forrest Gump of the military! Great stuff James! Loyal reader of all your stuff!
As usual, the real foundations of life are not easy to ascertain.
Thanks Jack for your continued support and compliments.
Semper fi,
Jim
I loosened the only tie, not official Marine Corps, that I owned, hoping H.R. Haldeman had nothing against the British Royal Marines. The tiny insignia repeated though out the silk material was theirs.
…. Should be “through out” the silk ..
Thanks for the editing help Doc!
Semper fi,
Jim
Appreciate the work here. Looking forward to the next chapter.
Thanks Ronald. This week for the next chapter, probably Friday
Semper fi,
JIm
Carte Blanche Indeed
Goodness Gracious
Thanks for the great short comment Sean!
Semper fi,
Jim
I KNEW the followup to “Thirty Days” would be a winner!
Thanks for the great compliment Arn.
Semper fi,
Jim
Damn! Nothing like stepping into the middle of a tornado and being pulled in every direction at once. No problem though. You’ve been handed bigger piles of shit before and came out….well, mostly in one piece. Looking forward to the next chapter!
It was, indeed, something else again to be in that storm and to try to figure a way through
that didn’t involve me getting shot again. Thanks for the great comment.
Semper fi,
Jim
Thanks for the great comment and the compliment Mac.
Semper fi,
Jim
Awesome chapter to introduce a new chapter in your life.
Thanks Tom, much appreciate the attaboy.
Semper fi,
JIm
All I can say is “Wow!” Quite a different “world” from that you had just left.
A different mix of worlds, really, and trying to accommodate all that stuff, with my brother dying and
PTSD….holy shit, indeed.
Semper fi,
Jim
So well written and so interesting
Thanks Dave, much appreciate this comment. Happy Thanksgiving.
Semper fi,
Jim
Very interesting. I love it. Thank you again.
You are most welcome Tim, and I much appreciate the compliment.
Happy Thanksgiving and Semper fi,
Jim
Glad to see you writing again James!I have enjoyed it .
Thanks James and hope you enjoy a great Thanksgiving.
Semper fi,
Jim
James-Amazing turn of direction in your life, can’t wait to read more.
The Marine Corps base is spelled El Toro, one r instead of two.
Yes, El Toro. Thanks for the help. I don’t know what I’d do without the great editorial help from
guys like you.
Semper fi,
Jim
Hotel Oscar Lima Yankee Sierra Hotel India Tango. All I’ve got LT. Semper.
Great description of those times Mike!
Semper fi,
Jim
Very intriguing LT. Yes sir…
Thanks Tony, glad you are enjoying the work!
Semper fi,
Jim
Wow, what a turn of events. It’s going to be interesting to see where your life goes now.
Thanks for the interest Paul, and its been one helluva ride, that’s for certain.
Semper fi,
Jim
WOW just WOW, you can sure step in it without trying. There seems to be conflicting statements about Haldeman and Ehrlichman drink/carouse with women or not. Damn good thing you have a smart wife who sees thru all the bs.
Mostly my wife! Haldeman and Erlichman were both Christian Scientists but didn’t follow
the code too closely, that was for damn sure.
thanks for the penetrating comment.
Semper fi,
Jim
Wow! You sure have a knack for stepping in it!
Too true, Tom…and thanks for pointing that out.
Semper fi,
Jim
Dang LT, remains to be seen what you stepped in. I look forward to finding the answer.
I am looking forward to providing the answers, and it’s interesting that some of the people of that time
are actually reaching out to me, not like Thirty Days at all.
Semper fi,
Jim
Alrighty then …. Off we go, looks like we might need to keep our seatbelt fastened for this book. Looking forward to what’s coming.
The times were raw and my participation in them always unexpected, especially for me.
Semper fi,
Jim
Sounds like you are going to wind up with a laundry list of duties and job descriptions. If only you could make time take orders from you.
You certainly pinned that one on the head, Parker. Thanks for the comment and Happy Thanksgiving.
Semper fi,
Jim
Wow. Powerful stuff.
Thanks Bob, most appreciate the short but hard-hitting compliment.
Semper fi,
Jim
Jim, I have one word: Unbelievable!!
Great one word compliment, Leo.
Thanks and have a great Thanksgiving.
Semper fi,
Jim
Holy cow Lieutenant! You better buckle your chinstrap for this one. Got my attention already. I had some crazy stuff to deal with but you are in for wild ride!
Thanks Gary, for the taking of the time to write on here, and the compliment inherent in your words.
Happy Thanksgiving and Semper Fi,
Jim
Gotta say James that your wife was, and is impressive.
Very sharp and intelligent..no nonsense gal.
Couldn’t have a better partner to help watch your six.
What a revealing truth your comment is about Mary.
What a stroke of good fortuned to find her as a Freshman in college.
Semper fi,
Jim
Spell binding as always. B-17’s over German (y). Thank you sir.
Germany, I am certain. Thanks, and Happy Thanksgiving Kirby.
Semper fi,
Jim
Great start to the book Jim so much enjoy your writing happy Thanksgiving to you and your family!
Thanks Mike, really appreciate that kind of general comment and Happy Thanksgiving to you too.
Semper fi,
Jim
Great piece Jim! One small correction. It was Clifford Murray not Mitchel unless you were using poetic license!
Absolutely correct. Called him chief so many times that became his name.
Hope you are doing great my friend…an allowing me to take a few liberties with the story…
as you lived a good bit of that too…side by side at times.
Semper fi, your friend,
Jim
Nice intro
Thanks for a typical Marine compliment. Short but powerful.
Happy Thanksgiving and Semper fi,
JIm
It seems you have entered “bizarre world”.
But good to see you writing again.
Thanks for the neat comment and Happy Thanksgiving Buck.
Semper fi,
Jim
Filled with intrigue from the very start, Book Two of The Cowardly Lion lends a peek behind the workings of the Nixon era. I look forward to the unfolding saga.
Yes, George. I only recently became aware that very little of what really went on in and around that compound
have been written about. I was such a floated, driver, gofer and more and less that I could ‘skip across the surface’ of
the water of life there and observe so much.
Semper fi,
Jim
Wow! You went from Lightening Bolt darn near having a stroke to carrying a .44 magnum with depleted uranium ammunition. I would say something about being surreal but your whole saga seems surreal.
I don’t post much but I’m still very much following this story. Thanks for writing it.
When I speak to groups about this time, and Thirty Days and so much more I usually
prepare them by saying that I don’t have a believable background. Most people can’t take it in,
as it’s so foreign to regular people’s lives. The fortunes and fates of life’s twists and turns
were going on all around me back then like swirling tornados. Interesting but also dangerous.
Semper fi, and Happy Thanksgiving.
Jim
I believe those pockmarks in the ceiling of what was the ITS barracks in Jan 1975 were put there by you, which solves that mystery. I admit I laughed out loud at your rendition of that day as DO. TS and Courier duty can be a blessing, or a dangerous curse, but that badge opens many doors. I went to ITS in Jan-Feb 1975, then reported to MSG school followed by Saigon in April, 1975, then 33 months of MSG at several posts. Returning to the FMF in 1978 found me in a Corps that I no longer fit into, as you had discovered as well. The danger and mines fields of a Presidential position are much less obvious vs a shooting war in the Valley, but can but no less deadly to mind, body, or career. Not having a clue as to what comes next is the hardest part.
Great writing, as expected, Semper fi, LT.
You are one of us, and I can tell by your writing. Spot on. And I was so young without a ton
of life experience to guide me….except I never again went at a high ranking person in government or the
military like I did the general commanding the division in Vietnam. I was teachable.
Thanks for opening the window on your own background a bit. Courier was and remains such
a strangely powerless position but you are correct, it sure as hell can change in an instant.
Semper fi,
Jim
Yes, those pockmarks were from me!
Semper Fi, while stationed at MCAS Yuma I sent a letter to President Nixon telling him to stick by his guns and not let the bastara get him down. A month or so later an aide to the base commander, my OIC, and the Top appeared in front of my desk. The Top threw down a letter from the Office of the President addressed to me and said “Open it!” I did and showed it to them and there was a collective sigh of relief. It was a form letter thanking me for my support of the President. It was signed by Haldeman or Erlichman, I do not remember which. I wish that I had not thrown it away.
Hilarious! Yes, the commanders back then were scared shitless of real high command, especially when one of us little lowlings seemed to rise from
the mud. Pug in Winds of War kind of thing. My situation was a bit more dangerous, what with all the classified crap thrown in…mostly unnecessarily, by the way.
Thanks for sharing a bit of your own history here.
Happy Thanksgiving and Semper fi,,
Jim
Goodness gracious! I did not see any of that coming.
Well, hell, neither did I!!! Thanks for the compliment in your words.
Happy Thanksgiving and Semper fi,
Jim
Sir,
What a fascinating and incredible read!
Lots of questions spinning through my mind…
Well, here I am for those questions, and, of course, for the following chapters of more
revelations and strange adventure.
Semper fi,
Jim
“Army Air Force, B-17’s over German,” Ehrlichman replied. May I suggest “Germany” instead of “German”?
Thanks for the editing help Dave. Much appreciated,
and Happy Thanksgiving and Semper fi,
Jim
Great first chapter. Looking forward to more. I am anxious to hear more about the Linda Randstat concert.
Thanks H Kemp. Appreciate the laconic help and you being along for the entire ride.
Semper fi, my friend,
Jim
Totally different than your first encounter in Vietnam. They all speak in phrases like your wife said don’t say anything and get in trouble. They were all adhering to the same philosophy. What a ride your on for the next phase of your life. Wm
Yes, but I had Vietnam behind me and never again would I lip off to someone in real power.
Plus I had my brilliant wife to listen to and I did.
Happy Thanksgiving and Semper fi,
Jim
Marines!!…as we go through this I tend to compare it to my ride. I think amazingly similar but you were in the right place and I was hidden away in the wrong place. You were the smart naive resource, that could operate! And you were blessed with this beautiful being that somehow learned how to see through the BS! Both of us learned how to explore the power vacuums, outside normal systems…They (the ones who understand how to get things done) use tools that understand the mission and will figure a way to do it…justify it , but accomplish it; Marines! Unfortunately, you are cursed with the need to correct all the windmills! S/F; by the way North comes to mind but he is no where as smart as either one of us.
Jim Webb was smarter than North.
True North also did not learn when to shut up.
You have as much of an unbelievably wild story as my own in many ways.
I don’t think that after what we went through in the Nam we could just come home and be regular guys.
I laughed at the end of the Band of Brothers series on television when all the survivors came
home to their old lives and small towns and just went back to doing what they’d done before
they went off to their war.
No way, Jose. You and I are living proof.
Fun to watch you work the group in a speaking engagement. You go at them and I love that about you.
Semper fi, wingman, and Happy Thanksgiving, of course.
Jim
Another great yet mysterious chapter in a already fantastic story.
Thanks for the great compliment Clarence and the accurate conclusion, I might add.
Semper fi, and Happy Thanksgiving,
Jim
Your compliment is extensive in its way and I had to stop to try to reflect about the fact that I don’t really have much
of a clue about my writing style or even how it effects others unless they tell me…like you did here. Cannot thank you enough!
Semper fi, and Happy Thanksgiving.
Jim
Dang, LT – you are doing great for a butter bar!
It’s strange how things work when you are near the top of the food chain, willingly or not.
And the first chapter of Lion, Book 2, is fantastic. Again, with your writing, you draw the reader in, as if making said reader a part of the story.
And now you have me antsy for the follow-on chapters.
Thanks Craig for that so sincere compliment and also observations.
You’ve obviously ‘been there’ in some of that life.
Happy Thanksgiving, and semper fi,
Jim
I’m now totally blown away by the life you have lead, and I haven’t even heard all of it, yet. I don’t understand why you have not been picked up by a major publisher, although perhaps that’s your choice. I’ve contributed to your efforts so far, and I will continue to do so. Keep up this work. It’s important history and adds a lot to the big picture stuff that’s mostly written as the whole story.
thanks most sincerely Mike. The major publishers, if you haven’t noticed yet, as the industry has changed so much, are now mostly publishing works
supposedly written by people already famous. They are not taking on new talent and they sure as hell are not taking on argumentative and controversial guys
like me. But I am okay out here because the major publishers also change the work. It’s hard to go against the military and political mythology and the publishers
are mostly steeped in that. I could never have written a lot of this earlier without fear of losing everything or worse.
Thanks for the thoughts and support, and Happy Thanksgiving.
Semper fi,
Jim
What the hell have you gotten yourself into now LT! Man, talk about a wild roller coaster ride. I had to reread this chapter 3 times to be more totally confused. Am waiting almost holding my breath to hear the rest of “The Story” Wow……….
You know, I didn’t do it! I didn’t get myself in deeper. The hole opened up in front of
me and down I went. Thanks for the compliments embedded into your comment. Much appreciated.
Semper fi,
JIm
I have followed you thru 30 days & now the cowardly lion. This has been and still is a fascinating read. Look forward to each chapter. Wanted to say Thank you for putting this all down.
You are most welcome. It’s been some body of work, that’s for damned sure. Back in the early days
it seemed so easy to write away…but getting it all out and up has been a brutal wild ride, and that’s for certain.
Semper fi,
Jim
And you leave me wanting more, as usual. “ and then drive Kissinger to El Torro” We’re you not going to pick Kissinger up? Can’t wait for the next chapter. I’m going to need the next three books on the shelf next to the first three. Keep writing!
Nah, when people landed at El Toro, the dignitariies got into limos
waiting and kept at the base, then were driven to the compound. The drivers
were taken back to El Toro and the limos left in the compound. When the dignitaries
were ready to leave, usually unexpectedly, drivers had to be found. There was no barracks or
place for the drivers who’d come down to eat, sleep or any of that and the limos had to be
ready to go in an instant. Makes sense in a weird way.
Semper fi,
Jim
James, If your description of how dignitaries were transported to and from El Toro was true 100% of the time – then you may choose to modify this chapter to have you drive Dr. K from the compound to El Toro rather than you picking him up there. Sounds as if a chase/security vehicle was required to retrieve the driver(s).
I never picked him up. I would only drive him to El Toro, leave the limo and then use a military lift back to the compound.
I will reread the chapter to see how I misconstrued that and fix it.
Thanks, as usual, for the brilliant editing help.
Semper fi,
Jim
A 44 Magnum? A 357 Magnum S&W M19 4″ would have been a better choice but the M29 4″ with 44 Special ammo would have been an acceptable choice.
BTW the Colt 1911A1 of the vintage of your model holds 7 rounds in the magazine not 6 as you have state in your other books.
I have explained in those books why I carried six rounds in the 1911. The pressure of one in the chamber and six in the short stubby magazines put undue pressure on the
tang at the top of the magazine, sometimes bending it to the point where rounds would not feed. To avoid that it was easier to carry six than to have an armorer work
over the magazine and feed ramp to fix the problem. Plus paying the armorer, of course. The hot loaded .44 with penetrators was way out of the league of a .357…for some things,
which will come later in the book.
semper fi, and thanks for the clarifying and edifying comment.
Jim
You are getting in pretty deep JAMES?
Truer words…and thanks for the comment here about it, Harold.
Semper fi, and Happy Thanksgiving.
Jim
wow!!
Great one word compliment, guy.
Thanks a lot and Happy Thanksgiving.
Semper fi,
Jim
Now this is getting extremely intersting to say the least !
thanks for the compliment, however subtle in presentation Don.
Happy Thanksgiving and Semper fi,
Jim
Hated it when “Dick” came to San Clemente …locked on base every other weekend.
Interesting …review of the place.
Yes, a lot of us hated the locking down, the special cleared highways and near ‘royal’ procession
those people get to be allowed to have. To be in the procession was better.
Semper fi,
Jim
James, It seems as if you hit the ground running – just didn’t know which direction to take.
Some minor editing suggestions follow:
My first day working with the Home of the Western White House
Maybe “at” instead of “with”
My first day working at the Home of the Western White House
Timing:
At three p.m. I drove to the police department
then meet with the police chief
It was only mid-day but I wanted to go to bed
You have a conversation with Mary
Then drive back to the estate
Where everyone is still in their offices.
Maybe drive to the police station significantly earlier in the day?
I didn’t have any idea of what to expect
“of” seems extra
I didn’t have any idea what to expect
you show up, not knowing anything about.”
Maybe add “it” after “about”
you show up, not knowing anything about it.”
the developments being showered down upon me“Who knows?”
Add period at end of sentence and space after it.
the developments being showered down upon me. “Who knows?”
seem like was going to volunteer any more than he had
Maybe add “he” before “was” and end sentence with a period
seem like he was going to volunteer any more than he had.
I liked the man, a whole lot more
Comma seems extra
I liked the man a whole lot more
when dealing with people as obviously as powerful
First “as” seems extra
when dealing with people obviously as powerful
“The prick’s a buff,”
“buff” is slang; but I do not know what it means. Buff can mean naked. Seems it can also mean ‘buddy fu&ker’. Maybe some other term was meant such as “bluff”?
“Did Haldeman serve in the military,”
Maybe substitute a question mark for the comma
“Did Haldeman serve in the military?”
I got out of the chair and headed for the door.
But several sentences later you say:
“Thank you, sir,” I said, rising out of the chair.
It seems easier to change the second sentence to something like:
“Thank you, sir,” I said, turning to face him.
tiny insignia repeated though out the silk material
Make “throughout” one word
tiny insignia repeated throughout the silk material
gave you Top Secret clearance
Add “a” before “Top”
gave you a Top Secret clearance
being assembled and. developing around me.
Seems like a period after “and”. Maybe substitute a comma or no punctuation.
being assembled and, developing around me.
OR being assembled and developing around me. (seems better)
as Julie ground her electric tricycle by the railing
I’m not sure what “ground” means in this context. Is she rubbing the tricycle against the railing? If not, maybe “steered”
as Julie steered her electric tricycle by the railing
“Whose Gentile,” I asked
Substitute “Who’s” for “Whose”
Substitute question mark for comma
“Who’s Gentile?” I asked
totally mystified as to what was doing at the place.
Add “I” before “was”
totally mystified as to what I was doing at the place.
“That “Mickey Mouse’ I.D. card carries
Single quote in front of Mickey
“That ‘Mickey Mouse’ I.D. card carries
“What does ‘carte Blanche mean? I asked the agent.
No need to capitalize “Blanche”
Add single quote after blanche
Add quotation marks after mean?
“What does ‘carte blanche’ mean?” I asked the agent.
just don’t show it to anybody there
Add period at end of sentence
just don’t show it to anybody there.
“You were in the military,” I said, wondering if he’d answer.
Maybe question mark after “military” Then drop the comma
“You were in the military?” I said, wondering if he’d answer.
“Army Air Force, B-17’s over German,”
“Germany” instead of “German”
“Army Air Force, B-17’s over Germany,”
and then drive Kissinger to El Torro.
Earlier your wrote
pick up Mr. Kissinger at El Torro
He’s coming in about two hours from now.
Seems better to stay with Kissinger incoming
Change “and then drive Kissinger to El Torro.”
to: “and then pick up Kissinger at El Torro.”
Marine Corps tightly held together and analytically precise training command behavior
Seems as if Marine Corps is possessive. If so, I’ve seen both Corps’s or Corps’
I prefer the latter.
Marine Corps’ tightly held together and analytically precise training command behavior
Blessings & Be Well
Some minor edits! What in hell would I do without DanC in my work and life. I cannot thank you enough for all the
help, my friend. Happy Thanksgiving…and a better one because of what you do.
Semper fi,
Jim
Wow.
Great one word compliment and I thank you so very much.
Happy Thanksgiving and
Semper fi,
Jim
James , LT, Junior God Bless You Sir I’ve never known a Four Star Lieutenant before. SALUTE I was once a Command PFC long story again Prior Service. The Good Lord has a marvelous sense of humor. Your Marine life is proof. I’m Blown Away by the astuteness of You’re Wife. Her assessment of your assignment/situation is/was top drawer. My comments to my Wife’s nature was/is I married up above my pay-grade God Bless You again Sir Drive on You are playing me like a Marlin accept I don’t want to throw the hook. Eyes Only
Wow, George, now that’s a great comment, and I much appreciate you taking the time and effort to put it up on here in front of the world.
The wives played and still play such a big role, especially for those coming home with PTSD. Nice of you to mention her, and compliment her.
Happy Thanksgiving and Semper fi,
Jim
Nixon had a cast of characters around him, must have been quite the experience….
Indeed, it was, and it was surprising how many of them I got to know, not closely
but still. Some were pretty damned smart too and would remember my name. I was always
complimented by that. Tricia Nixon and Pat too. Tricia would only nod and mention
my name, not looking at me directly. Pat was terrific with all the security people, and
whatever the hell it was I was.
SEmper fi and Happy Thanksgiving.
Jim
Very interesting. You may have stepped into something you might regret later on, as I’m be sure we will find out. Semper Fi.
thanks Pete, for hearing form you and your nice comment to…not to mention accurate.
Happy Thanksgiving and Semper fi,
Jim