The Pagan Community does have its own culture. The full meaning of that culture depends on the moment, on the platform, on the environment in which it stands at that moment. And when that moment is finished, the culture continues to change. Yes, the Pagan Community has a cultural aspect to it, the Community just does not seem to realize it until the moment has past.
Quite honestly, it was the oddest group of folks I had ever encountered at a single time. Not odd as in eccentric though. It was the oddest set of belief systems I had ever seen assembled in a single spot. The predominant members were Wiccans of various Traditions throughout the United States. They numbered close to two-thirds of the individuals there. Included in the group were various Ceremonial Magicians (a group of people I had never encountered before), a Mambo Priestess (voudoun), and a few eclectic Pagans (German citizens to boot). The idea of the group was to meet and talk with each other at meetings once a month. Over time, the eclectic Pagans disappeared. I am not sure if it was the language barrier that sent them along or if they thought that this wide-ranging group of Pagan beliefs were just a gathering of flaky Americans. The self-appointed leader of the meetings continued talking about how we – the Pagan Support Group – needed to get the Ramstein Air Base Chaplain’s office to provide us with space to hold worship services. When this leader started setting forth the number of “Wiccans” that were asking for the worship services as the total number of individuals that were part of the Pagan Support Group… Well, Predictably, all of the Nine Hells broke loose among the group. Many of the non-Wiccans, particularly the Ceremonial Magicians, did not approve of being lumped into a Wiccan pile. Particularly one that was increasingly to be the flavor of this particular individual.
The Power of Three
Somehow, the concept of triads and threes becomes a big part of my Life. I cannot explain the entirety of that – however, the “Pagan Support Group” splintered into three separate groups, while still maintaining a presence at the Vogelweh Recreation Center as a single group. The document you see to the side here, is the document that names SSGT Nathan Crisp as the Lay Leader of the group he claimed numbers for. Furthermore, it provides Chapel Space on Kapaun Air Station for the group to hold religious rites. That was the first official time that the United States military offered space for a Pagan religious rite on a military installation. During this time, I attempted my usual role of peace-maker. I kept a connection between all three groups, and tried to get them to see reason towards trying to find common ground to work together. I attended the first ceremony with Nathan’s group. Nine people attended (including myself), along with a reporter and a photographer from a German paper. Four days later, I went to one of the local Army Kasernes (Tank barracks) for a ceremony that was held in a motor pool garage – unsanctioned by the military. This was for the other Wiccan led group. Two weeks after that particular ceremony, I attended a Ceremonial rite in the middle of the woods – again, unsanctioned by the military. The day after that rite, I went to a house where I attended a ceremony held by a group that had driven to the Kaiserslautern area from the Fulda Gap area near the East German border. It was here that the two page centerfold pictures for the Stars and Stripes article were taken, along with the accompanying interview.
Attacks, Slurs, and Overt ‘Friendliness’
Shortly after these ceremonies and interviews were done – those of us featured in the paper became mini-celebrities in our duty sections. At my weekly Dungeons and Dragons gaming session – my DM used the paper centerfold (published – fittingly enough – on October 31st) as a DM Screen. There was no hiding my beliefs from the nearly two-hundred people I worked with in the ATOC (Allied Tactical Operations Center) Command and Control facility. There was also no hiding what I was from the general military community either. I was pushed by several soldiers in the mail facility, and told that they would be glad to beat me into Hell. Reports of this to the Security Police were dismissed as “people just playing around”. My vehicle’s windows were smeared with shoe polish with slurs such as “Satanist Asshole”. Other individuals mentioned in the article were physically assaulted while sleeping in their barracks – their attackers were hidden in masks and thus unable to be identified. Letters to the Editor in the Stars and Stripes appeared with each of us named as people who should be run out of the military. My supervisors’ supervisors started to take a particular interest in what I did with my personal time, as well as nitpicking areas of my military bearing that had never been questioned before. In short, we had all made targets of ourselves through our actions.
My End of the Story Eventually Comes
Over time, many of us felt enough pressure to leave the military – or had inflicted enough minor infractions (mine was missing a formation) to be processed out of the military. We were not the point of the spear in our drive to get acceptance for Pagans in the military. The thanks for that goes to people like A1C Lorie Johnson, who had fought to get the start of acceptance started through their actions in the early 1980s. Those of us who continued that fight into the early and mid 1990s, attempted to take their actions to the next step. And there are many Pagans who have come after us – the Pagans that are part of the military force today. Today, Pagans are afforded a lot more ability to practice openly. As a singular instance, the picture here is the Stone Circle used by the Pagans at the United States Air Force Academy – Falcon Circle.
Yes, I was part of the group that received the first official permission to hold worship services in Chapel sanctioned space in the United States military. We were not the last either. I am glad to know that many, many more groups have been given that permission. I am saddened, looking back, that we could not keep our group from the in-fighting, arguments, disagreements, and power struggles. But despite all of that – we banded together long enough to get the regulations to work in our favor. We created something that opened the gateway for others. In the movie moneyball, the Red Sox owner tells Billy Beane that when innovators arrive – the first ones to break through the wall get bloodied and beat up, while those that follow do not have that happen to them. We got bloodied and beat up. By outside aggressors, as well as ourselves. But I look at the legacy that all of that left behind – and I believe it was worth it. The entire experience changed who I was. I realized that crusades can be done quietly too – that an individual did not need to grab the flag, charge into battle, get surrounded, and then wave the flag hoping for allies to rally to it. It took a lot of beatings and getting surrounded, but I learned.
Oh, and One Last Thing
…we did win the right to put what we wanted on our dog tags. I have no idea what happened to mine. I may have given them away to someone or lost them in a move. They might even be in a box out in the garage somewhere. I had mine changed two weeks before they processed me out of the Air Force. I wore those fuckers proudly on my way off the base and over to the airport. When I changed into my civilian clothes in the bathroom – I was not about to spend an entire flight back over the Atlantic in a military uniform – I wore those dog tags on the outside of my shirt, where they could be seen plainly. If I was going to suffer and be drummed out of the military over my religious belief…I was going to wear it proudly as the scarlet letter it was then. I was proud to have served in the United States Air Force for a little more than eight years of my life. I am far prouder to be the Pagan I was then, and the Pagan I have become now.
Occasionally, I hear from Pagan folk in the military. Typically, they have heard that I am former Air Force, and want to see if things were different now than when I was in the Armed Services.
I joined the Air Force in 1986. When I got my dog tags issued to me in Basic Training, I was asked for my religious preference. The purpose of this was to determine what last rites needed to be provided for my corpse-ified self in the event of my untimely (or timely – but that is a completely different thread of thought) death. I honestly did not care what went on to my tags, so I left it blank. I was raised by Protestant parents who did not go to church. I was interred in a Catholic boys’ school for purposes of high school education. Naturally, my rebellious teen-aged self was not about to enter either on to the list. Its not a compulsory field on the document, so I just left it blank.
Right around mid-1987, I discovered the wonderful joys of the Bulletin Board Services. Essentially, this were computers hosted over a phone line in someone’s home. It was through these BBSs that I came into contact with the concept of Paganism. Three local BBSs were my typical stomping grounds for discussions on topics that ranged from abortion rights to religious perspectives to whatever else you could dream of. Every once in a while, folks from these BBSs would get together somewhere in the local area and spend time together in a face-to-face manner. Many of my life-long friends I met this way. I have lost track of some of those folks – but I still retain friendships with many others.
Reading through a few Pagan books, I came to realize that my life-long reverence for Nature actually had a name – Wicca. Or so I had thought. There were some aspects of Wicca – particularly the ritual aspects – that did not appeal to me. But the fit was close enough. I started practicing with a local coven in the north Dallas area (which was quite a drive from where I was in west Fort Worth). In 1988, I went to the Consolidated Base Personnel Office (CBPO for short – think of a huge building that handles the Administrative functions for personnel all over the base. Sort of like a HUman Resources department for military folk), and request that my dog tags be reissued with the notation that I was “Wiccan”. While Wicca was described in the Chaplain’s Handbook, it was not listed as one of the religious choices for dog tags at CBPO. I queried the Chaplain’s office for assistance over my request. The result of my simple question was a new SBI check (Special Background Investigation process – this is done for individuals holding Security Clearances in the military) being processed against me.
One evening after I had gone to the Chaplain’s office, there was a knock on my barracks door. On the other side was a member of the Office of Special Investigations – the folks who clear military personnel for security clearances. He came inside, and started asking me questions about my interest in Satanism. I was confused. I was interested in Wicca, not Satanism. Our conversation was in an extremely adversarial tone. When I left for my assigned duty location (I worked deep nights), I found my supervisor waiting for me. Apparently no one on my shift wanted to work alone with a Satanist. So my supervisor was tasked with working with me for the night – he was an evangelical Christian. Over the course of a very busy evening, he talked with me about my new-found beliefs. Again, the conversation was extremely adversarial. The end result was my being moved to a different shift, where my three co-workers were all evangelical Christians. Needless to say, my three straight days of working with these folks resulted in being a nightmare for me.
I didn’t change my beliefs though. Instead of being open about what I believed, I learned to just let my fellow shift workers talk about their beliefs – and I just put my head down and did my job. The result of this was fairly predictable. I learned more about the UniSys 2200-level mainframe than anyone else I worked with. If there was trouble in the system – I was typically asked to come and assist in fixing the equipment. Slowly, the stigma of what I believed took a back seat to my knowledge of the system. And I relaxed…and told one of the newer folks what I was one evening.
The next morning, I was asked to hang around and wait for the Branch Officer to come in. I was dirty, my uniform was wrinkled, and I obviously needed sleep. So when I heard all this – I knew my appearance wasn’t going to help me. He pulled me and the female airman into his office and brought us both to attention. he asked her to repeat her allegation. Again, the claim I was a Satanist came out. I was asked to respond – I pointed out I was a Pagan. The major then made a statement I will never forget: “Airman [xxx]. I don’t care if Sargeant Van Hook is worshipping the Cooling units on the processing floor. He comes in, does his work, knows the systems nearly better than the Civil Engineers that are here to repair parts of the system. I would advise you to look towards achieving a similar work ethic here.” I figured I was off the hook. Except that I was asked to stay. When the door closed, the Major expressed sympathy for my position, but noted that I needed to keep things professional while on shift.
Eventually, I received orders processing me for an overseas assignment. I again brought up my request to change my dog tag status. Again I was denied. And I moved on to Sembach Air Base in Germany.
Arriving in Germany, I found myself completely cut off from other people that believed as I did. Or at least that’s how it felt. My co-workers were friendly. The people that lived in the same stairwell in Base Housing were extremely stand-offish. But eventually, I found an advert in the local English paper that helped soldiers and airmen find local events to attend and socialize at. The ad read along the lines of being a meeting of Pagans, Wiccans, and others of a like-mind, but referred to this group as a “Pagan Support Group”. I had reservations of what it was about – seeing something similar to an Alcoholic Anonymous meeting. “Hi, I’m Tommy and I’m a Pagan.” “Hi Tommy!” The meeting was held at the Recreation Center just down the street from where I lived…so I did what any military person would do: I went on a recon mission for the first meeting. I found where the meeting was to be held, and I spent time doing anything I could to watch the people involved. What I found, both shocked me and made me very happy that I had come along.