A Biography Chapter One The Dawning or First Grips By Lee & co-written by Bill Leikam How could it be? Where did it come from? Where will it go? The feelings crept over me and I began to shudder. Another nightmare and I wasn’t asleep. Larry and I had spent many days and nights together considering questions about life. Where did we come from? What was this thing we were in the middle of called life? Larry believed in God, in Jesus. He spoke in tongues and said he had a relationship with our Creator. I had always wanted to know something, to be as sure as Larry of where we came from and where we would be going and sometimes when I sat in church I felt ‘good’ but I certainly didn’t have any deep knowledge. The Holy Spirit didn’t grab me and fill me with anything. I hadn’t rolled on the floor and talked in tongues. Really I was much more interested in chasing one young lady anyway.  It was 1963. Larry had been the California State High school Wrestling Champion and I had fought in the Golden Gloves. We were tough, young and full of testosterone. In November we spent most of a week deep in the wilds of the Carmel Valley hunting wild boar. David came along. Steep scrub oak mountainsides and hard struggles tracking these dangerous pigs, made us ache and suffer.  Always we worried we’d stumble onto a pack of them in that brush.  We had heard stories of how they could tear one apart. The adrenaline was always high as we fought our way through the thick growth. Larry seemed much stronger than David and I.  He was always up ahead blazing the trail. What beautiful, rugged country!  We heard some boar once but we never saw any.  We saw a beautiful six point buck.  We saw eagles, raccoons, opossums and all manner of creatures but never did we get a chance to even see a pig. Finally our time ended and we had to return home.  We had enjoyed a great time in the wilds and going home empty handed was just fine.  We looked forward to a good bath and our girlfriends. Larry and I double dated that first night home.  At the drive-in movie that night, in the back seat of Larry’s old car, I snuggled up in the arms of my friend Carol.  Oh the sweetness of her. The smell, the tenderness, the warmth her young nipples hard in my mouth, her long legs stretched out and holding me sweetly. I could hear heavy breathing in the front seat too. No one watched the movie.  We basked in the wonder of young love, sharing what we dared of our bodies and our minds.  Larry and I were deeply in love with these young women.  It seemed to me that the most spiritual things I knew were somehow wrapped up in my relationship with this young lady. In January of 1964 I decided to join the Army and become a Special Forces Green Beret. I figured I would get the training done, marry Carol and retire after 20 years in service.  But things don’t always work out as planned. In February, I enlisted and was sent to basic training twenty miles from my home.  It was terrible running on those God forsaken hills of Fort Ord just outside of Monterey California.  Although the fort sat along the beautiful Monterey Bay, we froze most of the time and the torture of watching cars pass on the highway I'd driven so many times before, made me even more miserable.  Drill sergeants stuffed themselves in my face, consistently on my back, push-ups for no reason, no privacy in the bathrooms, tearing down my individuality and teaching us to kill. It was our daily grind. I became adept at learning how to blend into the group so they wouldn’t notice me. In March, on Friday afternoon, everyone was in formation, at attention as the chief drill sergeant was reviewing our day when I heard those dreadful words, Private Leikam! Sir, Private Leikam here, I barked. Report to Captain Green’s office immediately! Fear shot through me. What had I done to warrant this? I could think of nothing but no one went to his office for no reason and I had never heard of anyone going to see him for anything good.  Yes Sir! I shouted.  I double-timed to Captain Green’s office.  I had to wait for a little while.  Standing at parade rest in the outer office, I watched people bustling around pushing paper, answering phones. Awards adorned the walls. Private Leikam. Captain Green is ready for you now. I walked into his office saluting sharply, Private Leikam reporting as directed, sir! My heart pounded. ‘What could I have done?’ I wondered. Private Leikam, do you have a friend named Larry Mitchlock? In a flash, I thought, Larry! Larry! What could Larry have to do with Captain Green? I stammered, Sir, yes sir. Private Leikam, your friend has requested that you come see him. We are giving you a special two-day pass. This is highly irregular but your friend has been diagnosed with cancer and has only a few days to live. He’s requesting to see you. I didn’t understand. What did you say? I asked and instantly thought, Please don’t say what I think you said. My heart sank because I knew. Your friend has cancer and they want you to come see him and since it’s only a few miles away, we have agreed to let you go. Return here by Sunday at Lights Out, Private Leikam. That’s all. I was dismissed. My world changed. I walked out of his office, through the outer office and everything was in a swirl, a haze, and people moved in slow motion. I didn’t double time across the grounds. I didn’t care who saw me. Private Leikam, Private Leikam! It was Corporal Corn. I turned to him. You need this pass to leave the base and you need your car keys. He handed me both. I walked to the parking area, got in my car and drove off heading for Watsonville.  My mind swirled. Larry dying! No way! Larry was the nicest guy I knew.  He never smoked, drank, swore or did anything most other kids do.  Larry was a good guy. I thought, There must be some mistake. This was a cruel joke. This is an Army test, a part of my training. They must have something special for me.”The hour drive was completed in a fog.  I was numb. Kids don’t get cancer. Old people get cancer. Grandpa died of cancer. He was old. This can’t be. I drove to Larry’s house and as soon as I saw his mother’s face, I knew this was no test. She said, Larry has shriveled up. He’s skin and bones. I heard her crying inside. My throat knotted up. Tears formed. The 175 pound California State Wrestling Champion lay on a bed. He’d shrunk and shriveled. He looked at me and said, Hey solider! Larry, what’s going on? Hey man, they think I’m going to die. Come here and look at what they’ve done to me. I walked over and he pulled back the sheet and showed me a bag hanging from his side. They cut out most of my insides Lee and now I go to the bathroom through this tube. What happened! I asked. Well a couple of weeks ago, I couldn’t go to the bathroom like maybe for a week or so. They took me up to Stanford and cut me open to see what the problem was.  They say they found cancer all through my insides so they took my guts out and sewed me back up and gave me this bag.  When I woke up they told me I had only a few days to live.  The hell with them! I’m going to beat this thing. He spoke that with conviction. I’ll help you. I sobbed. We made a plan. Larry said, I’m going to go back to lifting weights and build myself up.  We’ll win this battle. I spent as much time as I could with him that weekend. He didn’t look like he would die. He was skin and bones but he spoke well.  His voice was strong. The weekend was a time of tears and anger.  How could such a thing be? I’d ask myself. Through it all, I knew Larry could win this fight.  Larry was one of God’s kids. He went to church. He knew God, or so I was told. Larry was strong and by Sunday night when I left he looked to be getting stronger. The drive back to the base was not as hard. Hope was present.  Yes Larry could and would win this fight just like he had won all the others. That’s why he’d been a champion wrestler. God would not let Larry down. It was several weeks before I received a pass that allowed me to again visit home for a weekend. Larry was still alive. He was up and walking. He was improving. We got the guns and the girls and went out to the old dump to shoot rats. Huge rats lived in the dump and it was ‘sport’ for us to shoot at them.  We had a great time with our girls.  Larry told me, There’re hundreds of people praying for me Lee and I’m lifting some weights. I feel stronger. They said I only had a couple of days. Ha! I prayed for Larry too. And then finally basic training was over. I had been able to spend several weekends at home and we had spent as much time together as possible. We double dated but the heavy breathing in the front seat had changed. Mary seemed afraid and withdrawn.  The strain of that withdrawal ended our double dates. I had learned that I would not be allowed to be a Green Beret. I wore glasses and that disqualified me.  They could have told me that when I signed up but no they let me go through all this garbage first and now they’ve given me two choices: Be a medic or an artillery gunner. I chose medic.  Little did I know that I could have said, I want to go home. And they would have had to let me go. I had a two-week leave before reporting to Fort Sam Houston Texas for medical training. I heard it was called the country club of the Army.  That sounded good after Fort Ord and all of it’s dehumanizing torture. Larry was still positive he would win his battle. He looked like he could. Carol was still warm and tender but I feared now that my leaving her for the Army was not a good idea. I feared that she wouldn’t wait for me. I found myself for no apparent reason crying at times.  I wondered about this so-called God of ours.  Just a few months before we had all been happy. Larry had been full of life and a model guy with a great girl. I was deeply in love with the most tender, beautiful woman in the world. Carol and I had shared bliss together and now Larry was terribly ill. His girl seemed to be moving away from him. Carol seemed to be looking around. She seemed hurt that I would join the Army.  It seemed I had abandoned her, although those words were never spoken. I did my 13 weeks at Fort Sam Houston. I learned all about what an Army medic does from bed pans to men with head wounds, gut wounds and all the other trauma that comes with man’s inhumanity to man. I returned to Watsonville once more after that training. Larry and I spent more time together. They had given him a couple of days but he had survived now for almost four months.  Maybe he would make it. Carol was distant. She saw me but never came to the airport when I flew out. I cried as I flew off for New York on my way to Germany. I had lost her. Although we never said it, I knew I had made a mistake.  She was young and beautiful and sweet. She wouldn’t be there in two years no matter how hard I prayed or wanted it. I had betrayed her somehow. Life had changed. How much more of it was about to change, I could not even begin to imagine. Long before the time the troop ship began to pass under the Varisano Bridge, I felt the first tinges of sea sickness. My stomach revolted. The feeling increased. I made my way down the stairs to find a bathroom. The need to vomit welled up. As I hit the first level of the ship the smell slammed me. I was not the first to get sick.  I ran for the latrine my head swirling. I barely made it. It was not the last toilet I would find myself hanging onto.  It was happening everywhere and the smell made it all the worse. For the next ten days I stayed up top as much as possible.  The smell downstairs didn’t go away and it always made me want to throw up again. After days of not seeing land anywhere, I heard John yell, Hey man we got something on the radio. I went over and crackling across his little transistor came an English broadcast. We were picking up an English radio station. It was fascinating to hear the accent and know we must be getting close to land. Finally, Land’s End, England was seen on the horizon. The next day Bremerhaven, Germany and docking. We had our sea legs and now as we hit solid ground we found we could hardly walk.  We continued to compensate for the roll of the ship but the ground never rolled. It took another two days for this to slowly pass.  Onto a train and clickety clack we headed south into Germany.  I remember thinking, My ancestors had lived here. I sat glued to the window watching an alien world pass.  Little, quaint looking towns, church steeples, horse drawn carts.  I saw a beautiful woman just up from me and she too was looking out the window. Wow! Was she nice. It was a feeling. I looked at her legs, long and full of hair.  What! Women don’t have hairy legs, I thought. Change slammed me. And then she lifted her arm and I saw hairy arm pits. Something must be wrong with this one, I thought. But I learned I was in a different world. A different culture. Over the next couple of months I enjoyed the first exposure to German beer.  Larry continued to write. I could tell from the tone of the letters things were not going well. Lee the pain is getting terrible. You and Carol will end up together, man. I’ve taken to reading the Bible and writing to you now. Can’t do much more. I wished I could be there with him but I was half a world away and besides, what could I do even if I was there. One day after work my roommate Leonard and I had planned on hitting the town and find us a frauline or two and drink beer. I was in a great mood thinking about what might become that night. I said, Hey Len, just let me run down the hall to the latrine and we’ll get out of here. Hurry it up man; the beer and the girls are waiting! I hustled down the hall.  As I stood at the urinal a strange feeling swept over me.  It began at the base of my spine and passed up my back and over my head. The overwhelming impression was unmistakable, Larry just died! My attitude immediately and radically changed. I shook. I walked back to my room. Len’, I’m not going. What the hell you talking about man? Larry just died, I quietly said. You’re nuts man, let’s go, he nearly shouted. No! You go, I can’t. Len said, Have it your way.  I’ll get Sveck to go with me. And he bounded out the door. I took a piece of paper and wrote the time, the date and the feeling I had. I put it in an envelope and shoved it in my locker.  That evening I just read and sat and wondered about Larry, about Carol and about all that had happened. The next day I began to put the feeling behind me and by the next day I was back to my normal self. Two days later I had mail. More letters than I had ever gotten at one time.  Wow! One from Carol. I tore it open. So excited to see what she had to say. My love, my love! A newspaper clipping fell from her letter. I picked it up.  Larry’s high school picture stared back at me.  And I knew! No! No! It was Larry’s obituary. Larry was dead. Every letter contained the same clipping.  Tears flowed. I walked into Captain Berryman's office and threw one of them on his desk. He looked up.  Relative? he asked. No, I managed, just a good friend. My voice broke. I couldn’t talk. I turned and walked out of his office and over to my room.  I picked up some things and walked off the base.  I was AWOL. (Absent without leave). I became conscious when I found myself on a train staring out the window as the German countryside rolled by. For three days I rode trains around Europe. I don’t know where I went. All was a fog. How could God allow this to happen? How could this happen at all? If there is really a God certainly Larry would be the last one taken. Certainly I deserve to die much sooner than Larry. How could a strong young guy get cancer? I tried to bargain with God.  I prayed, Take me and let Larry live.  Old people die not young people. For the first time I began to realize that I could be next. What is this all about? Is there a God? Who am I? Is there any purpose to this? At the end of those three days I concluded that I could not change Larry being dead but if he had to die then my life would be dedicated to not allowing his death to be meaningless. I would search for the truth; for God. I would make some meaning out of his death. When I returned to base there was a message that Captain Berryman wanted to see me. Now I imagined I would get an Article 15 for being AWOL and maybe spend time in the stockade. Surely forfeit some pay. I reported to him. Sir! Specialist Leikam reporting as directed, sir! I saluted. More formal than we had ever been. He looked up at me returning my salute. Specialist Leikam? he paused and looked me over. Just where have you been for the past three days? Sir. I can’t really tell you ‘cause I don’t know. I just took a train ride and thought about my friend who just died. Well are you back? he asked. His voice was soft but serious. Yes Sir! I am back and I’m sorry I didn’t ask for a pass or anything.  I know I was AWOL but I just didn’t think I... He raised his hand signaling for me to stop. Leikam don’t tell me anything. Just get out of those civvies and get to your job. No one knows how to cut orders here and they’ve been piling up. He stood to dismiss me. I saluted and walked towards the door. Glad you came back, he said as I walked into the outer office.  Humanity in the Army? What a relief. No jail. No pay forfeiture. I took a long shower that evening and prayed to God that night for answers and strength to follow my heart’s desire.  (End Chapter one)