by Sarge In the fall of 1976 I was a courier at WHQ. Couriers would take LRH’s com from LEC and do tail shakes (make sure we weren’t being followed) and drive to the ‘Manor’ in Hollywood. We would go to the top floor of the Manor to the GO (Guardian ) offices, drop off com, pickup com and take the com and any passengers back to WHQ. Talk about a great job. I wanted to do that forever. Well, I did that for a month or so when one day a messenger came and told me I was now Supercargo WHQ. I thought, that’s ok, all I have to do after my courier runs was help load and unload stuff. During study time that day I sure found out what an S/C was and I also found out what HFA meant. Now, I was also visibly green. Luckily I had Source. Both green on white and via many many messenger runs. The Old Man took time out of his busy day to help me, to ‘train me up’. I would do com runs to Rifle and when he saw me he always asked how I was doing and would give me encouragement. First order of business was to establish an org board that was workable. The Old Man worked very close with me on that. One day while doing Chinese School on the crew, I thought it boring so I tried to lighten it up with my humor. Although I was proud of myself for being clever I soon got my first admin cram. The Old Man was very patient with me.
You all know what gradients are. The Old Man handled me with perfect gradients. Soon I was walking with the swagger of a fully hatted S/C. The Old Man had a wayof saving some stuff. Well, while everyone was sleeping there was no one looking out for the place(s). He told me there needed to be night security guards. He also told me, in way of an apology I think, ‘if you want something done, give it to a busy man’. (gulp) again. Only now I had big shoulders. By this time, if the Old Man would have said ‘Sarge, dig me a ditch’ you would have found poor ole Sarge in the morning laying on his shovel in a mile long ditch.
The Old Man had the purchaser buy me a duplicator machine and a manual typewriter. He didn’t know I didn’t know how to type. Enter the OODS (orders of the day). The Old Man and Mary Sue and others would post regularly. Sorry, again that was fun. One time I got a very polite reprimand from Mary Sue about a post that was off color. On a com run I apologized and she gave me a little cram…’ Look up the word.’ Good God I liked her. Mary Sue was like a queen. Mary Sue and Nikki , her communicator, used to kid me about Suzette,often. Sorry Suzette but they really did. Woulda, shoulda …..“stupid is as stupid does”.
I had problems with ‘personnel’. I had folders sent me from a terminal in PAC of prospects to go ‘Over The Rainbow’. Problem was no one passed the GO filter. The GO did the right thing I know but I got caught in a ‘catch 22’. By this time, although the Old Man could be patient, he also wanted things done ‘yesterday’ so he could operate. I just didn’t know what to do. I knew he wanted people very much but he had a freeze on key personnel. (that was my justifier for those slow to pick it up). What happened next surprised me. The Old Man did an eval (checking data for whys and whos etc). He bypassed everyone. I was reassigned to courier (whew). I did danger. The Old Man never assigned me a lower condition. The Old Man never yelled at me, EVER. I’ve seen it happen to others but never me and ya know, I used to screw up often. Maybe he looked into my heart. I think. Conditions were meant to help you, not invalidate. Conditions are personal. Get help to sort it out but please don’t accept someone else’s viewpoint unless it helps YOU.
After the eval (evaluation) we got people! We had to switch from Datsun 210’s to station wagons. I was a courier but now on nights. Life was good. I would deliver com to the GO, then walk to the FOLO and sleep for a few hours, then get a wake up call and walk back to the ‘Manor’ about four AM to pickup the com and any sleepy people and drive back to WHQ. One day I walked to the FOLO, left a wake up call time and went to sleep in the stinky FOLO men’s dorm. I was suppose to be an SO missionaire. Next thing I knew there were people running around like headless chickens and the sun was up; I was way late in getting up. Boy am I in trouble! I knew I was headed for the RPF. Rule One: Don’t mess with LRH’s com. I got dressed and went down the hall. Everyone ignored me. I left the front door and men in suits said you can go, have a nice day.
What was happening? I walked down to the ‘Manor’ and decided to use the back door as the front had more suits. I decided to use the stairs and saw no one. Apparently the FBI raid had just happened. It was about 6 AM. When I reached the top floor and walked into the GO offices I got whews that almost knocked me over. They told me that I was a hero. What? Didn’t mean to be, but its ok. They told me that no one could find me. No one could find me to wake me up. The GO sent people, even the CO was looking for me. No Sarge. I thought I was first bunk on the left bottom. Guess not. The GO guys said that because I didn’t show up it kept people there and on alert. When the raid went down, they gathered up some sensitive materials and got them out of there. I met Chuck Adams at a ‘drop’ site and brought com back to WHQ. I told my story and, lo and behold by pure accident once again, Sarge was a hero. Life is good again.