“People are taught.  Animals are TRAINED.”  This is a phrase that was told to me by a friend this last July after I kept referring to what I’d been ‘taught’ during my childhood as training.  I’ve come to realize: as a child abuse survivor, I was both taught and trained.

This is an excerpt from a personality I’ve been Trailing (meaning trying to ‘dig up’) – me being DID and all (dissociative identity disorder).  The “missing one” – the one on my report on my main blog, “A Song of Life“.  We are trying to recover . . . well, ‘missing memories’ – it’s not that we FORGOT – it’s just there’s this ‘part’ of us that has gone missing – and we are trying to recover him – for if a part of you is missing, you certainly cannot be whole.     (Written after we’d written what lays below.)

Enjoy.


We were both taught and trained. We were trained by the military by the time we were 13.  By then the training had fell off some.

no that is not right

we were trained until we were 14.  That was when we got back here, in the United States.

I remember that thing

We were trained a lot with the Army men.  They were kind to us most times.  Except for our Scoutmasters.  They were okay.  They were big men and they drunk beer.  You could get it out of the vending machine in the barracks come sundown.

we were out in the field.  This was when we were 13.  we spent a lot of time out there.  we spent it with the men, the actual G.I.’s.  eating rations and things.  I liked the cans.  I liked the fruit cocktaile most of all.  It was rather yummy with the cherries and things but there never were enough cherries.

I liked the silver bullets most of all.  They were made out of toffee chips and chocolate – hard waxy chocolate, but it was good stuff.  Good stuff to be eating.

They taught us lots of things, like getting into making deadfalls and all.  Those are when those logs come crashing down on you .  they are hard were hard to lift it took several of us boys in doing that.  They were hard; some of them boys were very mean hard boys made us do things we’d rather not do.  Like running through nettles and scuh.  in our bare shorts and stuff.  things to cause pain.

we learned about making puji stick traps when we were young; we were young Mikie’s age; that’s when we learned about those things and claymore mines.  Those and shooting thse handgrenade things

We wanted to ride in tanks lots of times but only got to go in some of the times for a ride and all.  It was hard; you got bounced around a lot and there were all those metal and things.  It could hurt you if you were not strapped down.  And the apc’s and things were cool; those were where we met the colonel sometims and we were supposed to give him information about what the other side was doing only we lied a lot and got him into trouble.  We told him where to go and then he went and we told him again where they are and he went in to charge them and only ended up charging his own dam self ha ha and LOL,  Shot up a bunch of his own tanks that time.  Three of us were into doing it three of us children in all though sometimes there were five of them.

We used to go into the underground bunker left by the Germans by the end of WWII; this was on the Fleigerhorst Kaserern which was where the german army had left something.  they had left this area of underground bunkers – it was seven levels deep and some of them were filled with water and airplanes and things and they (the army, our army) had built an airfield on the top of this thing, only they knew, so the germans used to do it like this:

When the American bombers would fly in the Germans would flood their airbase with some water, so it looked like a lake.  Then they would drain it and tada!  It became an airfield with all those bombers and fighters beneath, which would come out and go after them.  come the end of the war, they closed those levels (some of them) and flooded them out.  Nobody could figure out where the water was coming from, so the Army just left them alone.  They are still there, to this day, flooded, with airplanes sitting in them.  But the thing is the Germans thought they were coming back, and so they left some of those rooms open.  And that’s where the Army came in.

We were a member of the Scouts; only it was like a platoon.  We had two G.I.’s overseeing us, and we went on a lot of ‘missions’.  Some of them were good; some of them were so-so (yawning and things).  But we were there.

We got used sometimes; us kids and our bicycles.  Using us to go from here to there.  Setting up traps and things.  Observing enemy equations.  Making judgements and things.  Deciding what to do; how to set up …

then there was the nighttime when we’d go on the prowl, me and my guys and I.  This means some others as well; two of my friends.  we’d go down to the ammo dump where they’d kill ya for just looking on – much less breaking in and stealing ammunition like we were doing – sneaking a rack of belts out; stripping some threads ….

we did a lot of things like that under the cover of darkness.

it’s surprising how often an adult will forgive a little kid for doing something an adult would NEVER do and we got off on that many a time.

making strangers of friends and friends in strangers proved a wonderful thing.  It proved we could control who we are.

we got off on lots of times lying to the commanders; fooling around.  we got in trouble and things

we did a lot of dangerous stunts, messing with explosives and things

this was all by the time we were 13 and things.

it made us who we are

hooray army sometimes

they made an honest soldier outta me.  (LOL’ing and giggling going on right here ..

(breif sidenote we have just been ‘zoning’ as best we can … figuring if we can damp all the basic personalities we can get on thinggs this one – if no one is left, then only the ‘missing’ will be there …. been working on this one called “13” (or Jeremy if you prefer) – so forgive my efforts . . . lol, pulling out of ‘the zone’, noting that I felt some severe anxiety and/or fear when I hit one subject (deleted, unfortunately – something about ‘digging too deep’ – into something – hit a real big fear level in this child of mine – this 13 year old…. 

So forgive us our online therapy.  Sometimes by zoning out and losing control – we can find some things.  Like our missing persons report right there . . . on our other blog.

Until later (headache and all)
Jeff & Friends

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