Monkey Runner
Ok, we have all done some stupid things in our lives and I have to say I have done more than my fair share. One of the stupidest things I have done is also one of the greatest sources of laughter for my son. He as always asking me to tell this story and for the life of me I don’t understand why he thinks it is so funny, but he does and I have given up trying to understand it.
So there I was ten thousand feet with Migs around me like fireflies... Wait that was another story… Hmm… So about 20 years ago, there I was a young man in the U.S. Navy seeing the world and generally having the time of my life. I was a Naval Aircrewman assigned to VS-21 Antisubmarine Patrol Squadron as an Antisubmarine Warfare Operator. My job was to fly in a carrier based jet and look for submarines. I had other duties while flying when there were no submarines to hunt, like running radar, forward looking infra red, electronic surveillance measures and passive\active acoustics. I really enjoyed my job, and the loved the travel that the Navy paid me to do. Our carrier (USS Enterprise) had pulled into the Philippines , Cubi Point to be exact, and we were going to be staying there for about 3 weeks while we were getting some repairs done. I was stoked as the Philippines is basically an adult play ground and I was 25 years old. Nuff Said!!
To get to the heart of the story, the Navy policy at the time was that personnel who were going to be staying longer than 2 weeks in the Philippines had to attend a base indoctrination on local traditions, customs, and culture before shore leave would be granted. I felt this was stupid as I had been to the Philippines 5 times prior and was quite knowledgeable about this port. But rules are rules and I attended the indoctrination. Well I kind of attended the indoctrination… I was probably still drunk from partying like an idiot the night before, but technically I got away with calling it a bad hangover. I remembered parts of this indoctrination but not a much because I had my head on the desk, slobbering, and being asleep made it hard to remember much. I did hear before slipping into my alcohol induced coma that when walking in the jungle never throw anything in the jungle that may have been thrown out at you. I only remember that because it seemed so stupid at the time. Later down the road I wished I would have listened up a bit closer.
After indoctrination I went out in town with my Aircrew brethren and put a hurting on the town, and our heads with way too many drinks. Not knowing how I got back to the boat I awoke in my rack feeling like total crap, and wondering just who and where that guy was that shit in my mouth. Feeling that food would fix me right up I decided to go to the chow hall to get something to eat. The chow hall was three decks below where I slept and man did my head hurt. Falling down a ladder (Stairs for you civilians) is not fun, but falling down a navy ladder really smarts, as anything you are going to hit at the bottom is going to be made of steel. You probably can guess but in case you cant I fell and ended up splayed on the deck like a rag doll along with feeling pretty stupid and when I went to stand up my back felt like it was on fire. I decided that I better go to sick bay and have the doc take a look just to be safe. After about 4 hours of waiting in line with all the guys getting checked for the clap, the doc finally tells me he is not sure what exactly is wrong. From the x-rays all looks ok but he says with back injuries x-rays are not always conclusive and that an MRI is best for soft material such as disks. He gave me bed rest for the remainder of the day and then scheduled an appointment for me at the base hospital for the following day. I took the bed rest happily as I was for some reason once again hung over and hurting like hell in my lower back. I sometimes wonder if it was the hangover that caused me to slip on that ladder… Hmm… Oh well.
Waking up that next morning without a hangover was nice but damn if my back was still hurting. It was not quite as bad as the day before but it was still not good, and the worst part of it was I could not straighten up all the way. What the hell was wrong with me? I looked and felt like an old man. Crap I was only 25 years old and I was walking around like I was 80. I went down to sick bay, waited in line again, and finally saw the doc. He gave me some Motrin and then directions to the base hospital and that was that. I tried to ask the doc how I am supposed to get there but he closed his door in my face and I was left standing there hunched, hurting, and scratching my head. Well I was a highly trained sailor and this was not rocket science, so I popped about 5 Motrin’s headed to the base bar to get a quick couple of Crown and 7’s and then off to the base hospital. Easy peasy, or so I thought…
Getting off the ship was a pain in the ass, as the fantail quarterdeck was closed and everybody was funneled into one long ass line off the port side of the ship. Once again I was in a damn line waiting! Looking back at my time in the NAV as it was affectionately called, it seemed we were always waiting in some kind of a line. For chow, for movies, for hair cuts, you name it there was a line for it. I remember hearing a saying that went something like “The good ole Navy is all about hurrying up to wait” and man was it true. In fact it was so bad many guys went around looking for lines just for something to do.
My turn comes to depart the ship, I am granted permission, and I am history. I get to the enlisted club pound down three Crown and 7’s and am feeling no pain. My appointment at the base hospital is at 1500 (3 PM for you civilians) which left me about an hour to get there. I asked the bartender how long the walk is and he starts laughing and tells me that it is on the other side of the base. Shit… This base is huge, and I have no car, plus my back is killing me. Well, not really killing me as the Motrin’s and drinks are doing their magic but I still can’t stand up all the way and there is a dull throb in my lower spine. I ordered one more drink for the road and began my trek.
I was not feeling too bad, as I walked thru the jungle on the road to the hospital. I still couldn’t straighten up all the way, but most of the pain was gone and being half in the bag helped pass the time on my walk. So you remember when I said at indoctrination they mentioned something about not throwing things back into the jungle if something is thrown at you from the jungle? I am glad you do because I sure as hell did not remember it and wouldn’t you know today was my lucky day! I was just minding my own business hobbling my way thru the jungle when all of a sudden something hits me square in the back of my head. Shit that hurt! I look down and see a good hand sized rock at my feet. I pick up the rock looking for where it came from but for the life of me can’t find any target to kill. I am just getting madder and madder looking insanely for someone to throw this rock at, and finally with all my might I sling the rock in the most possible direction it could have came from. That was not the brightest thing to do and let me tell you why...
The jungle is not just trees and vines like all the movies show and I made a big mistake throwing that rock back. Those words at indoctrination were just now coming back to me but it was way too late. It wasn’t but a couple of seconds later when this little punk ass furry monkey comes out of the bushes holding a rock that I started to understand my mistake. As if that was not bad enough, it was when about 45 more of his cousins joined him the gravity of the situation became quite apparent. Lucky for me I had liquid courage on my side, and being the highly trained soldier I was, I decided retreat was not an option.
My initial battle plan was to scare the little bastards by running toward them and looking as ferocious as possible. As a side note, right after I passed out at indoctrination they also mentioned why you don’t throw things back (Because of Monkeys) and they said never to bare your teeth to them as it is a sign of extreme aggression. Well I made both mistakes and you know what? They weren’t wrong. In fact they were right on the money. As I made my drunken charge, the monkeys decided that they had numbers on their side and they unleashed hell. I ran smack dab into a full frontal assault of monkey rock slingers, and let me tell you their aim was not half bad. I took 2 shots to the face 1 to the stomach and about 9 to my legs before I decided retreat was not to bad an option.
Running from a battle was a bit embarrassing, but running hunched, rock smacked, and drunk was even worse. All my training did not prepare me for this, nor did it prepare me for what was next. You see the battle was still on! To my horror the monkeys did not understand the meaning of retreat and continued to chase after me slinging rock, crap, and whatever else they could pick up along the way. And to make matters worse they were screaming and bringing more of their damn friends into the fray. This was getting serious and I still had a half mile to go. I could see the hospital up on the hill thru the trees but I was not making quick progress.
Keeping my head low was not a problem in my hunched condition, but running faster than the 70 or so monkeys that had now taken up the fight was not easy. I was only able to maintain my distance but not widen it, and the damn monkeys were not letting up. That half mile was the longest of my life, and all the while I was being bombarded by whatever those little bastards could grab while on the run. I finally made it up the hill to the hospital with the monkeys in tow up until the last 10 yards or so, and thankfully the little crap slingers retired back to the jungle.
My humiliation would not be complete with out an audience would it? Heck no this was my lucky day and I was not going to get away with just getting my ass kicked by a bunch of pissed off monkeys. You see my retreat had stirred great notice from the hospital staff and all were our on the smoking deck to witness my loss of pride and the battle. I arrived red faced, bloody, beaten, and with numerous cuts to an audience of about 30 doctors, nurses and patients laughing their asses off at me. I just stood there rock beaten, bleeding, blushing, and wanting to curl up and die.
Finally the laughter ceased and one of the nurses led me inside, tended my numerous wounds and let the doc know that I was there. The doc took the MRI and gave me a good lecture about the monkeys in these parts and let me off the hook just a bit, telling me that I was not the first to come running up the hill with a war party of Monkeys on their heels. The doc was however a bit surprised to see it happen again as he had informed the base indoctrination personal to include some remarks about what not to do around the monkeys of the area because of these embarrassing incidents. I listened but just shrugged my shoulders and feigned ignorance, hoping he would drop the subject. That was not to be the case with this doctor. He then asked me “Did you go to base indoctrination?” My reluctant answer was yes, and I tried to explain that I was sick during it, but the doc was tuning me out fast. His next comments were something like I bet you were probably sick with the same brown bottle flu you have now, meaning my current drunken state. The doc saw the truth in my eyes, grabbed a pad from the desk and took down my commanding officers name. He promptly dismissed me and that was the last I saw of doc but it was not the end of the story.
The Navy has been dealing with idiots like me for many more years than I am old, and on this score I took one more beating. I was charged by the base doctor for destruction of government property. You heard that right, I was put up on charges for hurting myself. I had heard of this, but never believed it to be true. It seems that since I was given the information to avoid this whole mess and since I did get injured to some degree by those damn monkeys, I did for all intensive purposes hurt government property. My commanding officer awarded me with the loss of a half months pay for six months, and restriction to the ship for the rest of our port of call. Funny how the Navy awards punishment, I always thought that was pretty comical. The money being taken away hurt, but truth be told, I was about done with the Philippines and its rock slinging monkey bastards.
The end
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