
View From d'Isle
Last Week's Column

"With the
proper blood alcohol level, one could while away
many hours observing the social interaction of
these sometimes shameless primates..."
|
"...we found
ourselves at HASP Headquarters, being
fingerprinted and photographed."
|
"...after
only a few years I was able to say
"Marine" without adding any colorful
adjectives."
|
Return
to:
|
Military Justice
by Jean d'Isle
ver the course of a long military career, one inevitably becomes
involved in the military justice system in one way or
another. Too much involvement on the wrong side of the
system can lead to a quick return to the civilian world,
or worse. A limited clash with authorities, however, need
not be a career-ending event. Were that the case, I would
not have survived beyond my second year of active duty.
I blotted my copybook, where else, but
in Hawaii -- an innocent led astray by a member of the
U.S. Marine Corps. Nelson B., when sober and at sea, flew
helicopters off USS Iwo Jima. When ashore, Nels was a
party guy. In the summer of 1962, for reasons that escape
me to this day, I found myself "beach crawling"
with old Nels, finishing up an extended evening at the Monkey Bar
in Pearl City. The live monkeys behind the bar (not
tending bar, just doing monkey things behind the glass
enclosure), provided the live entertainment for this
popular watering hole. With the proper blood alcohol
level, one could while away many hours observing the
social interaction of these sometimes shameless primates
(this may be how Jane Goodall got her start).
On this particular evening (probably
early morning by then), having finally tired of the
simian follies, Nels went to call us a cab to return to
Pearl Harbor. After what seemed like an awfully long
time, I suspected he had run into problems and went to
track him down, arriving just in time to see him rip the
last of three pay phones from the wall. Marines just want
to have fun. My arrival coincided with that of the HASP
(Hawaii Armed Services Police), summoned by the manager
after phone number one
bit the dust. The HASP was a select group of military
police, established specifically to deal with miscreant
service members. They were all big, no-nonsense,
intimidating guys, selected primarily for their size and
inability to smile.
"They did it," yelled the
manager, pointing at a grinning Nels and an innocent Jean
d'Isle. A short walk later, encouraged along the route by
our stone faced escorts, we found ourselves at HASP
Headquarters, being fingerprinted and photographed. We
barely escaped an overnighter when Nels arranged to
reimburse the phone company and wrote a check on the
spot.
That brush with the law had a
permanent, and not necessarily negative impact on the
rest of my career in the navy. Although from that day
forward, whenever I was required to answer the question
"Have you ever been arrested?" I had to check
the "yes" box, and attempt to explain away in
great detail my association with fun-loving Nels and the
Monkey Bar incident.
On the positive side, I think the
experience
made me more understanding and receptive to pleas of
"extenuating and mitigating circumstances" when
I was later in a position to pass judgement on people
accused of disciplinary infractions or violations of the
Uniform Code of Military Justice. As a Commanding
Officer, with Article 15 (Captain's Mast) powers and
authority to refer cases to courts martial, I think
having been on the wrong side of the system, however
briefly, stimulated a compassion that might not otherwise
have been there.
As for Nels, we never crossed paths
again; and after only a few years I was able to say
"Marine" without adding any colorful
adjectives. The Monkey Bar (also known as the Pearl City
Tavern) closed its doors a couple of years ago and
reopened as a Japanese restaurant, sans monkeys. I think the monkeys
were moved to a small island in Kaneohe Bay
(appropriately named Monkey Island) and are the subjects
of behavioral research by the University of Hawaii. The
HASP was disbanded many years ago, and some say former
members have been spotted on Monkey Island trying to
intimidate the inhabitants into more socially acceptable
behavior.
__________________________________________________
Jean d'Isle
is a retired naval officer living in Hawaii. During his military career he
served in a number of overseas assignments, including
Germany, England, Spain, Viet Nam and Puerto Rico.
Following his retirement, he was an adjunct faculty
member of Hawaii Pacific University and is currently
under contract with the U.S. Navy at the submarine base
in Pearl Harbor.
Jean's column, View From
d'Isle, is a regular feature of VegSource On-Line
Magazine.
|