Encoded for the Experiencing War web site for the Veterans History Project.
The recording of the interview with Greer Puckett was digitized.
This transcription was encoded with minimal changes to the original text in an effort to preserve original content and idiosyncrasies of the person interviewed. Period language and terminology are also retained. Encoding is literal with regard to the transcriptionist's capitalization, punctuation, and spelling.
My name is Steve Estes, and today is August 10, 2004, and I'm interviewing...
W. Greer Puckett, San Jose, California.
Ok, when were you born, Greer?
I was born in Oakridge, Tennessee, April 20, 1952.
What did your parents do when you were born?
My father was an engineer and my mother was a mathematician.
And you were telling me before we turned on the tape that they worked on the Manhattan Project?
Correct. They were involved with the Manhattan Project during World War II. They met in Oakridge, during the war. My father was an electrical supervisor at the time, and my mother was a mathematician. She had just graduated from the University of Tennessee, and went straight to work [inaudible].
And did they continue working in Oakridge on military science stuff after the war?
Yeah, they worked in Oakridge for a couple of years, then they moved up to my father's hometown in Kentucky for a short time: I believe maybe a year and a half or two years, then moved back to Oakridge and worked there awhile longer. My sister was born in Oakridge in 1950.1 was born there in 1952, and four months after I was born there my father got a job in the little town I was raised in called [Tellahawtasee?].
What was it like growing up there?
It was a great childhood -1 had a wonderful time. I was a swimmer -1 was involved with the swimming leagues throughout the southeast. Most of my summer I spent in the pool. When I got a little older in high school, I got into other sports: like wrestling, and football - [inaudible] the football team. It was a pretty - it was a fun life.
Were you a jock?
Yeah, I was a bit of a jock. I wasn't in the "in" group, but I wasn't in the "out" group -1 was sort of in one of those in-between groups. And the in-between group helped me in that I didn't have to worry about being too popular or unpopular and I could just be myself.
So -1 know you went to WestPoint first - Why did you decide to go into the military in general?
When I was a kid, when I wasn't in the swimming pool swimming, I was studying about armies and war and playing army and those kind of things. I thought I would like to do that as a career because I had studied so much about armies and the Civil War and the South and World War II, and my parents being involved in the Manhattan Project - but I thought I really wanted to go into the military. So, I ended up getting a nomination to WestPoint in 1970.
How did you get nominated? (You have to be nominated to attend WestPoint)
I was nominated by a congressman, and the gentleman's name was William R. Anderson. He was my congressman from, I believe, the 6th district of Tennessee at the time. And he was actually the captain of the USS L[inaudible]. He was one of Admiral [Licolder's?] choice people, when Admiral [Licolder?] first started to become powerful. And he nominated me to WestPoint, and I kind of took an exam with a number of other people. And I must have done pretty well on that exam because he gave me a principal nomination and I got accepted.
Any reason you chose WestPoint as opposed to any other academies?
I chose WestPoint because most of my young life I liked army things. I liked strategy, studying what Robert E. Lee did or what General Joshua Lawrence Chamber from the North did, and how they reacted in the situations they were in, and the plays they did, and all the strategy they used, and I thought that's what I wanted to be.
Now, had any of your relatives served in the military before you?
Oh, you know my uncle was in the [inaudible] during the war. Another uncle was in the navy during the war. My dad wasn't in the services at Oakridge: we were not counted as a military family. None of my parents' parents were in the services.
How did they react when you told them you wanted to go to WestPoint?
They were very, very happy for me. They were pushing for me. They thought that I really wanted to go there, and I thought I really wanted to too, so they were happy for me. And they did all they could to get me in - phone calls, wrote a lot of letters. They helped me get a nomination. They were very proud of me.
Now, there must be a story, because you graduated from the Naval Academy. So what's the story?
There's a story. I was - At the time, when I went to WestPoint - you know, you go through other people who are graduating - a terrible process known as "plebe year", both at WestPoint and the Naval Academy. And at WestPoint, you have what they called the honor code, and that states that you must not tolerate those who lie, cheat, or steal, or those that help those that do. And when I entered plebe year, after plebe summer (what they call plebe's barracks), plebe year started. In November of plebe year, I was standing out in formation one day, when an upperclassman came up to me, and he came up to me. And he wasn't too fond of me -1 wasn't a class-A cadet, I was ok, but I wasn't the best in the world. So the upperclassman approached me, and said, "When was the last time you shined your shoes?" And I'd had a bad morning - I'd been berated by an English professor. And he said, "When was the last time you shined your shoes?" And I said, "Sir, Yesterday." Well, that wasn't the truth. And I went to class the rest of the afternoon, and I felt pretty bad about having lied. And because they had instilled such a sense of duty, with the honor code and the honor code and the honor code - so I decided that afternoon that maybe I ought to turn myself in for having told a lie. So I told my roommate when I got back from swim practice, that I'd flat out lied. And he said I shouldn't have told him, now he was gonna turn me in. And I said "Don't do it - I'll turn myself in." So I turned myself for telling a lie about shining my shoes. And the next thing I know, within two weeks I was -1 had an honor court, and they told me that I had - they convicted me for telling a he, and I was forced to resign.
Wow! For lying about shining your shoes?
Yep. And then I turned myself in and they still kicked me out. [laughter]
Was that what got you on TV? You said...
That's why I got on TV.
Tell me about that.
Well, my parents were furious. They were so angry they called Congressman Anderson. And Congressman Anderson was even more furious, because it had been -shortly before that, he was one of the gentleman who discovered what were known as the "tiger cages" in Vietnam -1 don't know if you ever heard of them; those were where the South Vietnamese kept political prisoners. They kept political prisoners in these awful conditions; called them "tiger cages". And my congressman had basically become antiwar; he was growing more and more strong against our serving in Vietnam. So he was furious. And so, when I left WestPoint, I took a train to New York City, took a cab to the airport and flew back to Nashville. And waiting for me in Nashville was my father and my mother, and they said that Congressman Anderson - they had just talked to Congressman Anderson, and he wanted to go public with what had happened. So, I said, "I don't know" -1 said "ok", but I wasn't sure about whether I wanted to go out there, or just let it go into the background and fade away. But, I said "ok". So, within a few days I was contacted by several news services, and interviewed by ABC news in my hometown, and was on the NBC nightly news November 1970, in regards to trying to get back into WestPoint. My congressman and I and my family all felt that it wasn't fair for them to have kicked me out after I turned myself in after lying about shining shoes. And so, it got on the ABC nightly news and then I was told I was also on the Today Show the following Monday morning; that they had talked about me. And my case made lots of newspapers in [inaudible]. Of course, when WestPoint denied my request to be reinstated, within a very short time after that, 2 years, I quickly fell back out. [laughter] And that's what happened to my illustrious Army career. It didn't last long.
So did you go home for the rest of that year and kind of bide your time?
Well I was home for 3 months. Shortly after I found out WestPoint was not going to reinstate me. By that time I was working in a baseball plant - baseballs. My father called one day, and he said, "Would you like to go to the Naval Academy?" And I said, "What do you mean 'would I like to go to the Naval Academy'?" "Congressman Anderson wants to know if you'd like to go to the Naval Academy." And I said - well, I wasn't really sure I wanted to go (I was kind of disgusted with the whole thing), but I said, "Ok. I'll go to the Naval Academy, if I can get a re-nomination and [inaudible]. Well, that's what happened: I was re-nominated for the Naval Academy and a [inaudible], and I was accepted. And that's how I went from the Army to the Navy. Army was the first place I wanted to go, and Navy was the second.
Was there anything behind the honor code thing; was your sexuality known at the time?
No. My sexuality had nothing to do with that at all. At that particular time I was questioning myself. I had pretty much already determined that I might be gay, but I didn't even know what gay was. It was 1970 and the only people that did gay things were in New York City, in Greenwich Village, and maybe out in the Castro in San Francisco, but that was it. So I didn't know very much about it, or who I was. So no, that didn't play a part in it. When my congressman asked me if I wanted to go to Annapolis, I said yes and was accepted to the Naval Academy. But before I actually went to the Naval Academy, I went to the University of Tennessee for a couple of [inaudible]. It was while I was at the University of Tennessee that I saw a film that the Gay Liberation Front had put on. And they had put on this film, and I was in my dormitory, and I sneaked in, saw the film and sneaked out so that no one would see me. [laughter] So I was so deep in the closet that I was still denying myself even though I was realizing that I was gay. So I did manage to at least go see that movie; first time in my life I ever saw two guys dance together. I saw them in a room there, over at the bar, dancing, thinking "they DO that?" So that was my first little hint of accepting me, although I was still very in denial. So off I went to the Naval Academy.
And what was your plebe summer and plebe year like at the Naval Academy? How did it compare to West Point?
Oh, plebe year was pretty much the same at most of the schools. You have to learn different things, but you still have to do pretty much the same kinds of things. You have to learn a lot of trivial knowledge - [inaudible] probably talked to you about the trivial knowledge - you had to maintain a military bearing at all times, to a degree that was much more overstated than what a real military man would [inaudible]. So plebe year was pretty much the same; it wasn't much harder at Annapolis. It was a hard year to get through; when I got through plebe year I was amazed I finally made it through plebe year because I got kicked out the first time [laughter].
Right. Well, you're one of the few people in the country to have experienced plebe year at both West Point and Annapolis.
I think I am. I can't say that there weren't others, but I don't know who they are. I heard about one while I was at Annapolis, who had first gone to WestPoint and then to Annapolis. But I know the number was few.
You don't want to hazard, which one is tougher to get into that game?
Oh, they're each tough in their own way. West Point was, I believe, a little more tough physically. But Annapolis was a little more tough psychologically. So they could have [inaudible].
And after your plebe year, don't you do summers on ships?
The summer cruise on USS Nashville. That was in June of 1972. Or July.
So that's the one where you had to do the duties of...
Other enlisted personnel.
Right. What was that like?
It was kind of fun. I enjoyed it, cause' we met some of the enlisted people, and we sort of acted as if we were enlisted. So you really had to touch on all those little things ; you didn't have to delve really deeply -1 mean, you weren't going to be in the deck division for a day [inaudible]. So I only touched on what they had to do, but it was a good learning experience. The b[inaudible] was we had fiiri, cause' we had just finished plebe year and everybody was [inaudible] because - see I believe an entire two classmates were put on four [inaudible] duties; I was on one of the four, with, you know, [inaudible] classmates. Sophomore year was a big - well, I THOUGHT it was going to be a large reduction in stress, and it wasn't, because the academic strain was quite difficult sophomore year. Actually I spent two more hours a semester studying than during plebe year. Also we were sort of in a narrow role during sophomore year: you're an upperclassman, but you don't really have any say in anything with the other two classes; you don't want to give them hell. So you're sort of in the middle; it's sort of like being a [inaudible] college student without [inaudible]. The end of sophomore year is the time when I actually admitted to some other people that I was gay, and I wrote a letter to my parents. And I told them in the letter that I was gay; that was right before June, and my parents came up and visited me: They thought their son surely [inaudible]. So they talked to me and I sort of "recanted", and decided I would [inaudible], I was concerned with my parents [inaudible]. And that was pretty much [inaudible. Yes, it was.]
When you said you told other folks, you told other midshipmen?
I told some other midshipmen.
And how did they react?
Well, they were very, very interested. Two of them - it was people, upperclassmen, 2nd class, and they had become friends with me, and I was able to go in there and talk with them, rather than just my roommates at first. I didn't want to tell my roommates something like that, because they were classmates and I was still so deep in the closet I didn't want to tell anybody, but maybe I thought I could abide in some upperclassmen, maybe they were [inaudible]. They said, "Maybe you ought to just write a letter to your parents." That's why I wrote the letter. I never told any of my classmates or those in my company.
And folks you told obviously didn't rat you out to the Naval Academy.
Not at all. I was very lucky in this. I just had good friends, [inaudible] So anyway, that was in the sophomore year. Do you want to know what I did that summer?
Sure
Well, between sophomore and junior year you go through a phase where you visit four different parts of the Navy and/or the Marines, [inaudible]aco for a week, you go to a destroyer for a week, you go to Pensacola for a week, for Naval/Air, and then you go to Rockland - Rockland, Connecticut, for a week, for [inaudible]. So during that four week period, I spent time as a Marine out in the woods in the middle of the night getting hit by a [inaudible]. I spent time on a submarine in Rockland, Connecticut, and then I spent time in Newport News -1 think we went out on a destroyer for a few days; I don't remember. And then, down in Pensacola, we actually got to fly (as a backseat flyer) to a Naval aviator, and that was fun. And then we had a month and a couple weeks; in class for a month, and took a couple of weeks off and swam around in Chesapeake Bay. Junior year, I did better academically the first semester than the second semester. I didn't do too well academically the second semester. During my four years of the academy -well, the first couple years -1 was on a swimming team, and by the time junior year came around I wasn't as interested in swimming anymore. I stayed on the team for a few months and then sort of left the team for a while, but by senior year I'd gone back to the swimming team [inaudible] [and they weren't going to let me in?]. During the last part of junior year, when I wasn't swimming, I had more time, so I'd go out to town. I went out to town with one of my friends, who just retired this last week from the Navy as a captain. And he and I were out in town one day at this little bar called the Dove, and I was at the Dove when this gentleman said "Is there [inaudible] play cards?" Rock says "Don't go over there - they're a bunch of fags, [laughter] "Maybe I'll go over there" I was thinking to myself. So I said, "Um... ok. Well, I'll play cards." So I got up to go play cards with him That gentleman was how I came out of the closet. [Inaudible] to this day as a good friend. I met him and we talked and we ended up going back to his place. Within a month I was going to gay bars in Washington, D.C. and having a good time, [inaudible] [laughter]
So your friend, I assume, was straight?
Oh, he was - this particular friend of mine, he wasn't straight at all. He took me back to his house that day...
I meant your friend from the Academy.
Oh yeah, he's married now -1 have photos I just got three days ago from his retirement ceremony. Retired as a captain -1 saw him on TV. He was in Iwo Jima, and in New York last year they kept interviewing the captain. So no, he was straight. So I walked over there to this guy's table, and it was pouring down rain that day, so finally my friend Rock comes over and said, "Do you want to drive back to the Academy?" So, we said "Ok". We got in the car, and Rock and I got in the car with the gentleman, and Rock took us back to the Academy. Rock got out and I stayed in the car. [Steve laughs] Because I had admitted to that gentleman that I was gay, and like I said, I ended up going to gay bars with him in Washington. This is in 1970, [inaudible]. There wasn't a lot to do there; there were quite a lot of bars by 1974, but there were no organizations per se - just bars. So we'd go to bars in Washington and have a good time. But he was of course a civilian; he wasn't in the service at all. He was [inaudible]
So when you finish up your junior year and go on cruise, that's your last one, right?
Yep. Now that one - my best friend at the Academy, his name was Jeffers (he's retired now). He and I were on the same ship that summer; it was the USS Newport News. I don't know if you've ever heard of it, but it's a huge cruiser - 22,000 ton cruiser with 8-inch guns that was built sometime during the war...
World War II you mean?
Yeah. It was a very famous ship, and had been on the line in Vietnam. One of its turrets had blown up and killed some guys. But it was a very famous ship - it was one of the old giants. I was fortunate to be on that ship that summer, for a couple of months working with the staff of the [inaudible]. That was a fun summer, [inaudible] worked on the crews, [inaudible], worked the fireboats, spraying [inaudible]. It was a good experience. It was a fun summer. At the end of the cruise - after I got kicked out of WestPoint, I got letters from Oliver Wood; I got letters from this gentleman saying, "Well, I'm really sorry for you, blah blah blah". Anyway, we kept touch over the years, and this particular summer, the summer of 1974, he asked me if I wanted to go [inaudible]. I had been [inaudible] this far across the country. So he said, "Why don't you bring your friend Jeff?" You've met Jeff he's a [inaudible]. So Jeff and I flew out to [inaudible], [inaudible] to Los Angeles -1 had never been to California before. So we went to Los Angeles and we [inaudible], [inaudible] Las Vegas [inaudible] [laughter] We got in his car and drove to Las Vegas. Within two days he was trying to go to bed with me. [laughter] [inaudible] Some kind of a ruse to get me in bed. It didn't work. But needless to say, we had to hitchhike back from Los Angeles, [inaudible] pay our way back, [laughter]
That's a great story
It is a great story. We hitchhiked -1 don't know; 1700 miles from Las Vegas to Nashville? Oh what a story - that's a different story. But, that took care of my junior year. When my senior year came along, I was -1 was a much better student, I got through classes better. In sophomore year when I was trying to come out of the closet, into junior year when I actually sort of - well, coming out of the closet WAS going on your first date in those days - [inaudible] semesters, but senior year I did much better; got through the classes ok, ended up being manager of the swimming team - still have all those [wreaths?] - Still have them today. [Steve adjusts the tape] It was a great - great experience, [inaudible]
And I guess it's obvious, but it doesn't matter for them that you're gay?
When I was at the Academy...
Let me turn this over... [Begin side 2]
When I was at the Academy, I was told, basically - though, you know, the only people who knew were my friend out of town, the juniors that I had told sophomore year (they graduated two years before I graduated), my one friend that was with me the day that Ron dropped us off - Rock. He sort of knew, but I never told him. So my entire [inaudible] I never told anyone close to me that I was gay, except for my parents [inaudible]. Who I knew at the Academy, basically, either didn't know or didn't want to admit to themselves that I was gay. I didn't have a problem with any of my classmates at all. With the exception of [inaudible] sophomore and junior year, I basically had a good time.
Now, when [name; Matlovich?] came out in - '75 I think, and challenged the Air Force, were you still in the Academy when that happened, or was that after you had gotten out?
That was right after I graduated. I remember being in an airport, and I believe I was getting [transferred?] - taking my month-long vacation. Before I was going up to Newport, Rhode Island, and I was in the airport and Time magazine was in the thing, and there was a picture of something and it said something about a homosexual in the military, and there was a picture of Len Matlovich on the cover of Time magazine. I went over and bought it immediately. That was the first I heard about it, and I think my story sort of intertwines with that a little bit, in 197[inaudible].
Now, was there talk about that story when you got to Newport?
When I got to Newport, no. I never really - when I was in Newport, for the six months I was there, I [inaudible]. We were going through something called the Service Warfare Officer's Camp. And I went to the -1 didn't do very well in the classroom portion of the Service Warfare Officer's Camp, but I did very well in the practical portion where we'd go out and act like you were an officer, commander of a destroyer or something - very well in that portion. I didn't do too well in the classroom part. But mostly, it was because I was having too good of a time, [inaudible]. The only thing I did that had to do with being gay that entire six months was to go to Provincetown. I drove to Provincetown one afternoon, on a nice hot summer's day - or a nice hot fall day; it was fall, but it was a HOT day - 1975, and I walked around Provincetown, and I was more nervous than [inaudible] [Steve laughs]. I was so nervous, because I didn't know -1 knew me, but I was scared because the only person I had been around was my friend Ron, and he wasn't with me this time; I was alone, walking around all these shops in Provincetown. I didn't know what to do. So I walked from one end of Commercial Street to the other, got back in the car, and drove back to Newport, Rhode Island, [laughter]
That must be the shortest trip you've taken.
That was the shortest trip I think I've ever taken.
And what about your friends [inaudible]
[inaudible] Steve Hall?
Yeah, I talked to Steve. He's very cool.
[inaudible] He's doing good. So I took care of that. At Newport I learned how to be a submarine warfare officer, but then I got transferred to the USS B [inaudible] in January, to be a patrol officer. That ship, when I got transferred there, that was in - the ship was already overseas, and I had to meet the ship in -1 believe I met the ship in - south of France -Marseille! I had to meet it in Marseille. I had to spend two or three days in Florida, waiting for a flight to Naples, and from Naples I had to get a flight to Marseille, and then in Marseille I boarded the ship. I remember my first night on the ship I met the captain, and he said, "You must be the electrical officer". And I said, "I thought I was going to be the [inaudible] officer." "Nope - we have a place for an electrical officer". So that's what I did. We were in the Med [Mediterranean Sea] - the ship had been there for a couple of months. We were there an additional four months, visiting lots of ports. Visited Messina, Sicily, and Naples, Italy a couple of times. Barcelona, [inaudible] Spain, [inaudible]. We stayed in Kalamata, Greece for a couple of weeks, and that was interesting because we were the first American ship to go to Greece in many, many years, because [inaudible] United States Government - they were not getting along at all. [inaudible] sparked some kind of a dialogue between the two governments, and the first ship they sent in was this [inaudible]. We landed in Greece on the coldest day in recorded history; 16 degrees in Kalamata, and they've been recording for a while, [laughter]. We were there a couple of weeks, and I heard later that we had done so well that the United States Government and the Greek Government had opened up negotiations. So I guess we did well in that. But we did spend an interesting period where - you had asked me a question earlier if I was ever nervous that I might come to physical harm in the service - well the first time that I thought that might happen to us, we were in this anchorfield, six miles off the coast of Egypt. And this Soviet anchorage- in 1976, Egypt and America were like America and the Soviet Union; we were pretty devout enemies. And the Egyptians let the Soviets anchor in their waterways. So we were told to go over there and show our flag, and get as close to three-mile limit as possible, from where these Soviet ships were. And sure enough, we got there and there was a Soviet cruiser. And we anchored there [inaudible]. So it's interesting [inaudible] we were looking for them, they were looking for us. But at one point - one night we were on watch, and we knew the Egyptians were [inaudible], so all of us were pretty nervous. And there was this ship, a boat -1 was on watch that night, and this boat was coming straight at us, and we actually had our [inaudible]; everyone was sent to battle stations, everyone was given their little life belts. But our fire control, directed our 5" 38 guns, at them.
So you were sort of bluffing.
We were sort of bluffing, so we were nervous, [inaudible], so that was one of the times I thought my life might be in a little bit of jeopardy. So that was the most exciting part of that trip.
Now, the next ship you were on was...
Well, actually, we went back to Charleston, South Carolina for two months, and then we went to our homeport. Then we went out to sea again, for an operation whose name has long since escaped me, but it was an operation that was the world's largest naval operation up to that point, and we were part of that operation, and it was held in the North Atlantic in September of 1976. And we were part of it; we were going to finish that exercise, do some port business, and then come back to Charleston after a few months. The tour was a lot shorter than that - in September of 1976, at 11:32 pm, we had a [inaudible].
Oh my God.
We had a collision, we collided - and that was the second time in my military career I thought I was dead - only that time I REALLY thought I was dead, because we were refueling from the Kennedy that night, [inaudible]
Right, right
And I heard a commotion; a horn sounded from the bridge, and I looked up and there we are heading right into the Kennedy. And they were 80,000 lbs and we were 2000 lbs. So we lost. But I remember telling someone, "Sound the collision alarm", so he sounded the collision alarm, "all hands prepare for collision", and then we hit. We were together about 30 seconds, and then finally pulled away. [inaudible] So our trip lasted about one month rather than three months, because we had to go into [inaudible] for them to tear off our masts and other equipment, and fix our radars. And then we went back to Charleston. When we got back to Charleston, [inaudible] [long inaudible] There was no way they were going to let us, although we tried. We were up for a very important award that year; we had gone from being one of the worst crews in the Navy, to, while I was on it, one of the best. We didn't get it because the collision happened, but at least we were up for it. And that pretty much takes care of any real adventures I had in the Navy. I got transferred to a ship in San Diego, and we learned how to keep the planes in operation, because most of the time while I was on there we were in the shipyard in [languish?], and that was the USS Cleveland. So while our ship would sail from San Diego, we would spend most of our time in Long Beach. But while I was in San Diego I met a person who I got to know really well, and we ended up [inaudible]. And my crewmates of course [inaudible] relationship. So I would leave his apartment very early Monday morning at 3 am and drive to Long Beach from Santa Barbara, [inaudible]. Finally the ship went back to San Diego, so we [inaudible] on the beach [inaudible]. This is the part of the story where I [inaudible] [laughter] In the summer of 1977, there were some young people in my department - one of them was getting out of the service and I talked to him, and said to him, "When you get out of the service, would you like to meet?" And he said, "Ok". And I shouldn't have done that, because later [inaudible] although I can't [inaudible] - he told one of the kids in my division that he thought I was gay, [inaudible]. So he got out of the Navy, and I was supposed to meet him, [inaudible] [inaudible] "I heard you were gay" And I said, "Really? Well, I don't care what you heard, I expect you to [inaudible] [inaudible] within three months [inaudible] late to work one morning; its called an unauthorized absence: AWOL. He was late to work, and [inaudible] said [inaudible] Captain's masque". And I said, "Ok" So Captain's masque is a time-honored tradition where [inaudible] war officers and the captain of the ship. You can have a session called an open masque, where you have witnesses and the captain is there and everybody talks about what happened, or you can have a closed masque, in which the accused is there with the captain [inaudible] officers [inaudible]. Well we all waited in line for our particular divisions to go to the captain's masque, [inaudible] this particular individual [inaudible] captain's masque. I turn around to my leading petty officer, and I said, "KB, in two weeks I'll be off this ship, and in four months I'll be kicked out of the Navy." And that's exactly, almost to the day, exactly what happened, because that kid was turning me in during closed masque. Now I can't prove any of this, and I don't - I'll never be able to prove it. But I'm 100 percent sure that is what happened.
So you'd been blackmailed before?
That's right, and I was gonna have none of it; absolutely none of it. I didn't care. Well, needless to say, after a week, I had forgotten about what had happened, and a shipmate - a fellow officer in my department, came up smashed, really drunk to our apartment. And when I took off in the morning, he said "Greer" And I said, "What are you doing, Mike? You're smashed". He said, "Greer, the NIS is after you". I said, "The NIS? What are you talking about?" "Yep, the NIS". This was my friend who knew I was gay - he had gone to Las Vegas with me, my sister and me, and he knew I was gay and had a lover. I said, "Oh no." He said, "What happened? How long?" And I said, "Oh!" [laughter] "I know what happened!" And I proceeded to tell him the story of the 27 [inaudible joke], what happened with this particular individual. He said [inaudible] I said, "Not to worry." I wasn't going to have the NIS following me around in their cars, seeing if they could catch me doing any homosexual activity, especially with my lover. Needless to say, I don't watch any of that CIS [CSI - Crime Scene Investigation] -1 sent CBS a letter saying I wouldn't watch that show, there are people who used to be in NIS that are now in CIS. Ok, so then I told my friend that I would go talk to the captain. So the next Monday morning I went and knocked on the captain's door, and I said, "Captain?" He said, "Come on in." And I could see his face drop, because he knew I knew. I said, "I understand the NIS is after me." He said, "How did you find out?" Well, he didn't say anything., "eh..." I said, "Look, I don't want my friend to get in trouble, but I don't want the NIS chasing me around?" He said, "Ok, he won't get in trouble. Who was it?" "Michael" I said, "Ok, I'll get out of the Navy, but I won't be discharged. If you try to discharge me, I'll fight you. Because this was when the Matlovich case had just finished [see earlier]. This is now 1977, 78, and it was still in the news, and it was right at that point that he won. 1978. So I told the captain either give me my honorable discharge or I'll fight you. And that's pretty much how my Navy career ended. I had to spend about three months on shore duty, copying papers for higher ranking officers there at the group office for the Amphibious squads in San Diego. It was a humiliating experience and they treated me like I didn't exist; treated me like almost like dirt. It was a very, very humiliating experience. It was 2,3, 4 or 5 of the most humiliating months of my life - November 1977 until May/June of 1978. It was just awful.
Because everybody you were working with before knew why you were leaving?
Everyone knew when I got kicked off the ship that day, because within a week I was off that ship, [inaudible] send you down to [inaudible], [inaudible] Newell [inaudible] saw him packed up, and I wanted to say something to him, I saw him packed up "Brother! Somebody send him off the ship!" [Greer laughs] In the 1970's, gay people were non-existent humans, and the world didn't know what gay people were all about. They figured I'd do something to Newell. I decided when I got kicked off the ship that I'd try to maintain as low a profile as I could, because all I wanted was my honorable discharge. I called up my parents, and I said I was leaving, and they said, "Greer? Why are you leaving? You have five years!" And I told them and they said "OH!!!!!!" So I had to tell them, and that was pretty... that wasn't pretty, it was awful. And then the NIS called me in for an interview. And before I went to see the NIS for an interview, when I heard I went to see a naval attorney at the base. And I saw the naval attorney, and he said, "Oh no.. .not another one of you poor guys". That's what he said to me - he was a lieutenant commander, class of '68 from the Academy. "Oh no... not another one of you poor guys". He felt really sorry for me too. He said, "Here's what you do: at the NIS briefing, say nothing. Tell them nothing, say nothing. On the advice of your council, you've been told to say nothing." So that's what I did. The Naval Investigative Service brought me in, and I said nothing. They kept asking me questions; whether I was gay, who I knew, and I kept answering, "On the advice of my council, I've been told to say nothing." And finally they said, "Ok; you can go."
How long did that last? Do you remember?
I don't remember. It was about an hour. Very scary. I was really nervous. I got back to the office and sat there the rest of the afternoon and did nothing. Within a couple of weeks, I was packing with an honorable discharge. So I got an honorable discharge. And that, my friends, is my Navy career. I left the Navy February 9, 1978, at 9 am I walked out of that gate in San Diego and I - was - a - mess. The day after that, my mother and I went to the racetrack in Tijuana, Mexico, and won $63,000. [laughter]
So you were laughing all the way to the bank?
It was great. In 1978, $63,000 was a lot of money. So we split it, each got about $32,000.1 paid off my car and didn't have to worry about a job for a while. They did one of those sessions to me. They did one of those sessions you see on television where the family gathers for alcoholics. Well they did it to me for being gay, in those days [inaudible], and it was an awful, awful experience. So I was gonna go see a counselor with my sister in Atlanta, so I said I would drive the 170 miles and go see my sister and the counselor. I went to the counselor for about 5 times with this person who was a PhD counselor [inaudible] don't remember his name; don't care to remember his name. Got hdme one day, this person called. And he said, "Hello. Can I talk to your dad?" And he did. And he told my father that I immediately needed to be put in a mental institution, that I was a VERY sick person, and I needed to be put in a mental institution to BE MADE WELL, [claps] And I hung up the phone and went to my dad, and said, "Dad? Am I mentally ill?" He goes [expression] "Am I sick?" He goes [expression] "Is there anything wrong with me?" He goes [expression], "I don't think so" "Then that's the end of this God-damned discussion ยก"[laughter] And to this day we haven't really talked about it since.
Let me ask you what did you think of "Don't Ask, Don't Tell"?
When I was a -1 was an activist. I lived in Connecticut for sixteen years; I became sort of an activist. Actually, I played a small, tiny part in getting their state protection for gays and lesbians [jobs?] in their law. That's in their law and I played a small part in that. I was also on the board of directors for the AIDS project, [inaudible]. So I was a bit of an activist, and I became much more political, and I had always been sort of political because of the way we are treated by the Republican Party and by the Democratic Party. So I became sort of a staunch [inaudible] for that. Then as Clinton became president in 1992-93, he tried to propose letting gay and lesbian people stay in the service without fear of reprisal or being forced to leave the service. I was really, really for that. Well it happened that the big controversy came around, and that awful Sam Nunn started going around to people's bunks on ships and asking, "Are you gay? We can't have this." Then I got even more angry and I got interviewed by the [inaudible], a newspaper [inaudible], I gave them my opinions on why "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" wasn't right. They printed it in the paper and I was very pleased with myself. Within a week - [inaudible] was printed on a Sunday or a Monday - every member of the electrical corporation [inaudible] and all of us poor little Westinghouse [inaudible] knew about Greer Puckett's article, [laughter] And without exception, every single one of them.
So you work for Westinghouse?
[inaudible] I worked for Westinghouse, but now I have my own office, [inaudible] I had been working for them for twenty-four years. The other big event -1 happily [inaudible] involved with the Naval Investigative Service again. Being a field engineer, I was working on the submarines. I was promoted, and [inaudible] given the honor of [inaudible] representing my company on the [inaudible] American submarine [inaudible]. And I got to deal with the NIS again. There's a program - in order to be around a nuclear missile, with a limited number of people, you have to go through a personal reliability program. While I was at work my first two [weeks? Years?] - number one, it took me two years to [inaudible; clearance?], [inaudible] interviewed me and admitted to me they knew I was gay and was I going to [inaudible]. Two years after that I got transferred to [inaudible]. And in order to go through this personal reliability program, they had to go through my background again, [inaudible] And it was right there: "homosexual". So the Naval Investigative Service, [inaudible], called me into the office. Here it is, 1984, late 1984, seven years after the interview in San Diego, and here I am getting interviewed again in W[place; inaudible]. And they asked all sorts of strange questions. They asked, "If you knew any of the sailors here in [place name] were gay, would you turn them in?" I'm like, ".. .No..." [laughter] Because did I know sailors that were gay? Yes. Was I gonna tell them? When donkeys fly! [laughter] [inaudible] So I turned to the person who was my lead over there, Bill [inaudible name], and - this was twenty years ago this month... [end of tape]