Where the Hell is 29 Palms?

It only took four weeks to go from chasing and being chased by VC and the NVA, to get orders to 29 Palms. Four weeks from triple canopied fear to scorchin' sand.

After humping jungle mountains and eating C-rats, I put on some weight. I had to get my uniform tailored so it wasn't so tight. I ate a bunch. I don't remember too much about being on three weeks leave from OZ I'm sure we seen and went out with our friends.

I took my family and flew to LAX., then to Palm Springs, then to 29 Palms,  where we got a motel with a kitchenette. The motel had the basics as far as cooking things, a small fridge good bed, and "Cable TV." WOW! Something new to me, or had I forgotten that maybe I'd seen it once before.

The day came when I had to report in. I called for a cab. As the cabbie was driving and driving, I thought as we were going towards the base,  "My word, we've driven a long time. Where in the hell is this place?"

I walked into the headquarters' office building. It had that Marine Corps smell, just like I have smelled it before, all shined up, you could see your face on the tiled deck. I reported to the S-2 office. This 2nd Lt came to the counter. She looked at my orders and said, "We don't have any infantry here, I see you have a supply MOS."

I told her about my training experiences in supply, which she then understood, then told me to report to the Gunny at the main gate at the MP office.

I thought, "Now this may just be alright, bein' an MP, even though here I go again with no formal training. At least maybe I'd keep busy, and the haunting thoughts of the past, wouldn't be so hard on me." If I kept busy, doing anything, the past didn't come around.

I was now officially a Military Policeman. I met the Provost Marshal, this Major, who did the usual "Welcome aboard, the Gunny will get you set up." He did tell the Gunny to get me into base housing however he could, he didn't want one of his MPs to have to live in a motel.

He handed me to another MP who took me around to the various places you check in at. I got all my uniforms that I would need, everything except my sidearm, which we draw before each shift started.

All that Gunny did was make a phone call to base housing and gave me the name of the civilian in charge. I went there and was told there weren't any housing available, but he'd put me at the top of the list.

It had been a long a tedious day, so at 1600, I got a cab and headed back to the motel. Before I got to the motel I stopped at one of the bars along the road into town.
 

Still not 21, I went in and ordered a beer and a shot. "Could I see some ID", the bartender asked. Then this heavier set man was sitting right next to me said, "This Marine more than likely just came back from Nam. He is able to fight and I can tell he did. And you got the balls to ask him for some ID? Give him whatever he wants, I'm buying, damn it." He did, and I thanked the man.

I told him about the no base housing problem. Well come to find out he worked maintenance for base housing. He told me, "That lying asshole, I know of four units that will be available in a couple of days. I'll make sure you get into one."

"Do you have some wheels?" he asked me I said no. "Well, let's go, I'll take you to the motel. I want to meet your family. I've got a spare car, ain't the best but it runs, you can have it's use till you get one."

I thought, "Now ain't this something? Here this Man don't know me from a bucket of oats and he's doing all this for me?" It choked me up some.

Two days later I was in base housing.

So I began learning about being an MP Desk Sgt, Section Chief. I had Marines assigned to me for different shifts until a SSgt came and took over.

I hated being a Desk Sgt. What a pain in the butt. I wanted and was craving for something a bit more challenging, and maybe some action. I finally got it, training under this new SSgt who did have formal training.

 It was just like being a civilian Cop, except we also had the "UCMJ" regulations to enforce. Some calls we had to let the Sheriff's office in 29 Palms to come and handle. Any major traffic collisions, such as injury or death we had to let the California Highway Patrol handle.

I did all sorts of stuff I truly loved. Car stops, murders, suicides, robberies, larceny, theft of government property, which the FBI handled those cases from CID. I did this for about 8 months or so.

Word came down from Headquarters Commanding General's Office that Marines who served in OZ with no more than one year or less left on their enlistment could get an early out, with a time limit for a decision attached to the orders.

Boy now howdy, I'm gettin' out of this Corps! All this spit and polish, job stress I was doing. I was fed up with this State Side duty.

There wasn't any way of me being able to explain how I really felt to someone who didn't have a clue as to what was going inside of me and in my head.

So I weighed it over and over in my mind. "No, I can't stand this job, I can't stand where I am. In a desert, no friends, can't trust anyone, always jumpin' out of my skin when I hear a loud noise. If I get into a struggle with arresting someone, I go right to the limit of the SOP and I've been lucky, sometimes I've went over that, nothing was said though.

I was in a deep turmoil. I didn't fit in with anybody. I longed for bein' back in OZ. In OZ, I pretty much ruled the roost. I had damn good Marines, who'd watch your back. Here in this  s**** hole, I couldn't and I didn't trust these loose dick heads for nuttin'!

I went ahead and re-enlisted. The money was probably the most important factor in my decision, though deep inside I wanted to make a career out of the Corps.

A few days later I got called to the CID office. I thought it might be for a case I had wrote up. It wasn't that. The Gunny in charge said to me, "The Major told me to bring you over here and see if you want a position here." I quickly answered, "Hell why not?" So I began my time as an investigator.

We at CID had the Gunny, later on this real laid back 2nd Lt, who was and LDO (Limited Duty Officer) and really was a warrant officer. I started with small petty stuff working my way up to major cases.

I was now allowed to wear civilian clothes. I got my credentials and badge, and was told I would be going to CID school soon, which never happened.

We got a new car, new furniture. My Wife got hired on with the San Bernardino Sheriff's office sub-station in 29 Palms.

I felt now I was accomplishing something. I had a purpose. I wanted to stay in. I got the freedom that I wanted, as much as was allowed, to work my cases.

Myself and another investigator got some "attaboy" papers from the General. We got our pictures taken by the base newspaper, with the Major sitting down with that Sheet eatin' grin he had. Big deal.

I had worked a case for 5 straight days, no sleep, no food, just coffee and water. I had this obsession that I couldn't walk away from most until it was done. The Wife told me I slept for 36 hours straight. I had a lot of "obsessive" things I'd do. At times to this day I still do.

One early morning I was working on a burglary file. This Marine came in and asked if I could help him. He told me about another Marine who was this big time drug dealer. The Marine before me said that he had information about and he dealt dope for him. He was going to be court-martialed. He wanted out of the drug stuff, and if he gave us the information, cooperated maybe we could get him off the hook and out of the Corps.

I told him, "It depended, on if we could verify what he had to say."  So I advised my superiors and asked how to go about this since it was my first time dealing with this situation.

Per their direction I contacted the San Bernardino County Sheriff's office. They had a drug task force. I gave them the main drug dealer's name, and I told them that I had an informant willing to do anything to get this guy. I asked if they had a file on him, and how we could work together.

They did have a file and they told me everything as the informant did. Name, description, vehicles that he drove, and what he was selling. Which was once again like this informant had told me.

They added, "We haven't been able to get one of ours in close. Sounds like you got what we're looking for. Can we interview him?" The dealer knew this Marine's car, so we took precautions to protect him.

I had known a lot of them Sheriff Deputies when I was assigned from CID to be the liaison officer working at the sub station in 29. I learned so much as I got to work all aspects of being a cop. Including riding along with the highway patrol, booking, dispatch, working with their detectives. Got to witness my first "autopsy" on a murder victim. In 60 days I learned more and put to use what I learned. It was great duty. My Wife and I went to work together, stopped and had a few drinks after with cops.

I worked with the drug task force for months on this case. Lots of hours. This informant made several big buys and was given money by the task force, marked money, to do it with. Then given money to give to the dealer, his cut, as if he sold it.

The time came where we had enough to put this puke away for a long time. They were also looking into the possibility of some unsolved murders of drug dealers that this Marine might be a part of, possibly ordered them killed, as he did have protection.

My informant told me that this Marine carried a small weapon, and wasn't going to get caught, he wasn't going to do time, and he'd shoot it out, either escape or die.

He also told me about this 19yrs old girl who had been this drug dealer's "bitch." She hadn't been seen in a long time. I advised the task force and they interviewed him. They asked him if he'd wear a wire and see if he could get this dealer to talk about it so they'd have it on tape.

He agreed to wear a wire. It worked, the dealer told him about her. So now they were going to set up a buy/bust, to get this dude.

The Sheriff's Task Force told me to pass along as they had to all in the MPs and CID, not to make any stop on the four of this drug dealer's different cars. So I put out a picture of him, descriptions on all four vehicles, and made it so that not one person who had the need to know would put the word out to leave him alone. He was about to be popped. But never discuss him over the radio, as this dude monitored cop calls.

Two days before we were going to bust him on base, so it would be a Federal and State case, the Major stopped this dude. Brought out the sniffer dogs. I went through the roof. I jumped all over this Major. I was not being a Marine, as I should've been.

I told him, "Now, YOU can explain to the Fed's and Sheriff's Office how you just F****our entire case up!" I could've spit nails.

The Gunny from the MPs told me, "At ease Bailey, you're out of line!"

I retorted back, "OUT OF LINE? YOU…", well I used some strong words, and even threatened him." Finally Top, grabbed me, trying to pull me back, then other investigators helped him, and took me outside.

Outside I shouted, "Top, that  #$%^&* no count IDIOT, just blew it all. I hope they file charges against him for disobeying a US Attorney, States Attorney, anything. He is lucky I didn't kick his ass!"

Top looked me firmly in the eye and told me, "You get the hell out of here, don't come back, till I call you. I'm going to see if I can somehow salvage something out of this, and I'm not pissed at you, I know how hard you worked, and I agree, but ______ damn it Bailey, you got to learn to use a little more tact!"

When my Wife came home I told her about it. She was so mad. She said that they, the drug officers, had already heard about it. She knew them also, "And they're some kind of pissed off! What in the world was he thinking," she asked. "Now I suppose they'll try to find a way to blame you, ain't that how it goes, shit rolls down hill", she said angrily.

As luck would have it, when I came back to work, the Major called me into his office, and apologized. I never said nothing. The Gunny apologized too, I spit tobacco juice in his shit can.

The informant called me for a meet and I advised the Top. Top said, "Bailey, you're off the case, it's been reassigned."

I said angrily, "Say WHAT?! This informant only trusts me, he won't tell nobody anything, and we got another chance Top, hell, don't do this!!"

Top went in and talked to the new CO and came back out and said, "Alright, but you're to only gather information, and if a bust goes down, let the civilian authorities handle it."

I said, "Top, we want to bust him on Federal property, and if I can't be a part of it, the informant has told me, he won't do it. You've got the reports and the tapes of my interviews. I have to be there, or he won't do it."

"Alright then do it, but Bailey, I'm telling you though, that's as far as you go!"

So it finally went like clock work. He was captured and arrested. He had dope you wouldn't believe. They also got him for a couple of murders. No court time, he made a deal with the Attorneys and was given a life sentence.

That was my greatest high time as an investigator; we got a real bad guy. That's all I wanted.

No charges were brought against me. I wasn't given anymore high profile cases. I worked petty stuff. The atmosphere around the office was like, "Stay away from him he's a walking time bomb, he'll get your ass in a jam."

The straw that broke the camels' back came soon. We were having a Friday afternoon from 1500 till it closing time. Which we did at different times. I was having a lot of fun. I could still sense though I was some sort of "marked man."

I was playing pool with another investigator and he made a very bad remark about Nam Vet's, "they were all a bunch of basket cases." I asked him not to say that.

He kept on with sly remarks and got in my face saying, "You're one of 'em, nobody trust's you, you're nuts. You think you're some sort of bad ass, well let's just see how much of a Vietnam Vet bad ass you are?"

I knew I was being set up. I laid the pool cue down, turned my back and he was right behind me, he wouldn't shut up. "You chicken shit prick, punk," he went on and on. All in one motion I grabbed the pool cue, turned around and cold cocked him, leaving him lying on the pool table, broke up, out like a light.

"Well, Captain" I said to our new boss looking agape at the man on the floor, "you got what ya'll been waiting for, so I'll see ya Monday morning, and I want transferred." Then I left.

I reported in Monday, handed my credentials and badge to the Captain. The investigator, who I hit, had a broken nose and swollen jaw was also in the office. He apologized to me. "I'm sorry Man, I had no right to say what I did, and you had every right to do what you did." 

I told him I was sorry. The Captain asked me where I wanted to transfer. I told him, "Sir, send me where I have unfinished business to do, and where I know I can trust people!!"

"So, you mean "West-Pac?" I nodded my head yes. "I'll submit it today, in the mean time, you can stay at home, till your order's come in."

I didn't know what the hell was wrong with me, but I damn sure knew where the hell 29 Palms was.