Clarksville,, Tennessee relied on the soldiers from the nearby base to support their businesses, but the town didn’t really like us. One Sunday four of us took the bus into town and headed for the bars. After drinking beer for about an hour in one bar, we decided to move on to another. As we walked, one of us, or maybe all of us, decided to duck into an alley to take a whiz. We had no sooner stepped inside the alley when a police car pulled in behind us. Assuming it was on its way to a crime somewhere, we stepped against the wall to let it pass, but it stopped instead. Two good old boys got out, the elder ranting about “You Army guys pukin’ all over our town, pissin’ all over our town.” I think we were just astounded and stayed silent. We hadn’t puked, and had only thought about pissing. Then the senior cop said “You boys are all going to the police station, you’re under arrest for indecent exposure.” Being a logical person and having won many arguments in the past with my grandmother, I countered “What!? We didn’t have our penises out!” to which they replied “You boys get in the car”, to which we countered “WE DIDN’T HAVE OUR PENISES OUT!”, to which they replied “You boys get in the car right now.”

So we piled into the back seat of their shitty police car, only to have them discover that the battery was dead. I don’t know why we did it, maybe just to move things along, but the four of us got out and pushed their car out of the alley and into the street, then down the street until the driver popped the clutch and it started up. I think we all half expected they would let us go based on our good deed getting their shitty police car started again, but no. They ordered us back into the car and we headed for the Clarksville police station.

Once at the station, the desk sergeant took over. He had us empty our pockets, listing the contents and placing them into manila envelopes. Particular attention was paid to our wallets – he counted out each guy’s money in front of him, made sure he agreed on the amount, and gave us a signed receipt for everything. Knowing we were not guilty, based on the U. S. Constitution’s it-technically-never-happened clause, we asked to see the judge, but were informed the judge was not available on weekends. Some interesting math was done with our collective cash. The four amounts were added together, then the price of four bus tickets back to the base subtracted from that, then the remainder divided by four to calculate what our bail would be. Perhaps it wasn’t that overt, but that’s just exactly how it worked out.

So far the day had all been sort of a hoot, but now we were walked into the cell block and locked into what I would call a strap-iron cell. I don’t remember the facilities exactly, but it was not totally inhumane.

Something like this, but with better mattresses and more space

 Two of our group decided to pay the bail right then and get back to base, rather than risk being marked AWOL next morning. My buddy and I, seekers of justice, would wait and explain everything to the judge tomorrow.

The next morning after a trustee brought our breakfast (grits, bacon, milk, coffee), we inquired as to the judge’s hours and were informed “He’s here every Thursday.” So, we gave up our quest for justice, paid our bail, collected the remainder for bus fare, and bussed on out of Clarksville. When we got back to base, our company was already standing in formation. Our sergeant spotted us approaching and demanded “Where the hell have you men been?” When we replied “In jail, sergeant!”, he just laughed. He knew how the town worked, and didn’t ask us for any details.