I was of the opinion that if you arrested three of my guys, my drug problem was pretty much solved. Nothing like your buddy pulling down a five-year stint at Leavenworth to dull your illicit desires. But no...there were still some folks who just didn't believe that anything like that could happen to them. Drug users are not usually your best soldiers...exceptions do exist...but generally speaking, dopers are not the sharpest knives in the drawer. I want to tell you about one particular young fellow who used up more of my time than I care to remember. It all started because of the Holland Three...we had to conduct a 100% "Health and Welfare" inspection. For you older-than-me hands, that is a shakedown inspection. A corps of NCOs and officers meet in the Orderly Room at 0230, divide into teams of two, and then go through the barracks with a fine-toothed comb: every nook and cranny, every bunk and surrounds, in every boot and shoe, every locker and every thing in the locker, every privately owned vehicle, every hiding place you can imagine, in latrines and shower rooms, just EVERYWHERE. Seeking any contraband: illegal items, questionable items, paraphernalia, and the list goes on...you get the idea.

While going through one young soldier's locker I came upon something I didn't recognize. It looked like a leather shoelace but when I picked it up it broke in two. I asked PVT Bee (this will be his name for the next several articles) what it was. He said it belonged in his shoe shine kit, or something like that and I let it go. This was not my first rodeo. I mentioned in another article that I was trained as a unit drug/alcohol counselor and had been familiarized with all manner of drugs and their tools. I had never heard or or seen a Hash brick before. And I was distracted by a plastic bag with a green herbal substance in it that was on the shelf. I was pretty sure it wasn't marijuana but I wasn't sure that PVT Bee knew if it was or not...lots of Germans were getting rich selling herbs and spices to young GIs who smoked anything and thought they were high. I asked Bee about the bag and he explained that it was an herb from a local Apoteke that was supposed to be a health supplement. He even told me that he bought lots of it because he shared it with other soldiers in the company. I logged it and took it with me.

Before I even got back to the Orderly Room after the shakedown, the word was out all over the company that the dumbass new First Sergeant had been handling Hash in Bee's locker and didn't know what it was. It didn't take long for the word to reach me. Can't tell you how happy that made me. I went back to Bee's room. His squad leader and platoon sergeant were already there re-inspecting the boy...but of course the brick was gone. When I asked Bee where it was, he innocently asked, "Didn't you take it with you, First Sergeant?" I was pretty POed; pretty embarrassed, too. But at least I had firmly identified one of my problem children. Little did I know at that time how much of problem he would turn out to be.

The other First Sergeants in the battalion were amused as well, but each admitted that they wouldn't have known what it was, either. Nothing finer than starting out a new assignment looking like an incompetent boob. I put up with smirky little smiles from some of my soldiers...for a day or two. Made a note of who thought it was hilarious, listed right below ole PVT Bee's name. After a couple of days my patience with insubordination died out so I picked a fairly public place with an appropriate audience and flamed a couple of fellas who were having too much of a good time at my expense. I included an explanation of the article in the UCMJ (Uniform Code of Military Justice) that deals with disrespect...it itemizes gestures and facial expressions and can carry a penalty of up to 90 days in jail. I liked that part. After a few weeks of mild tones and easy speaking, it came as a shock to many that their new First Sergeant had teeth. Good.

A week or so after the shakedown, I got a visit from an agent of the CID's Stuttgart office. This agent specialized in drug offenses. We had talked on the phone a few times with regard to my Holland Heroes but this was our first face-to-face. I liked him right away, I especially liked his fervor for the job. He asked me some questions about the bag of herbs that PVT Bee had had. Turns out that it is a popular product for the dope-smokers; it was supposed to clean THC out of their systems in a day or two instead of the three weeks it takes naturally. The best part of the herb was that in having it analyzed, they found that it had a very small amount of amphetamine in it. He pointed out that the regulations do stipulate how much illegal substance is required to qualify as possession, but he doubted that Bee knew that. And by his own admission, Bee was distributing this stuff to other soldiers in the company. So he had admitted to the illegal distribution of a controlled substance. The agent made this last pronouncement with a huge grin...matched in luminosity only by my own. We called PVT Bee into my office and I introduced him to the CID agent then excused myself while they discussed how cooperative Bee was going to be with Mr. CID's investigation. Mr. CID told me later that he barely got to mention cooperation before PVT Bee was spouting off every user and dealer in the company and battalion and offering his services as an informant. Better.

Before the ink was dry on the Charge Sheet, Bee was arrested in Bamberg for trying to sell weed to a undercover MP. The first thing out of Bee's mouth when the MP identified himself was that he was working undercover, too, for the Stuttgart CID. Best.

The further adventures of PVT Bee will continue in subsequent articles. I think you can see the type of person we are dealing with here, but I don't think you can imagine yet the depth of this boy's talent for attracting trouble.