Showing posts with label Japanese Prison. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Japanese Prison. Show all posts

Saturday, February 28, 2015

2 Years, 3 Months, 26 Days and 11 Hours (Part 5, The Conclusion)

Posted on 02/28/2015


Yokosuka, Japan, Naval Base, Day of Release, 1994
Four Marines rush into the room and I was sure I was about to go back to jail. The Commander waved them off and told them everything was okay.  What a sigh of relief. "Lance Corporal Redditt, I can't begin to imagine what you went through and I know this is a lot being thrown at you right now, but this is the decision that was made."  "Sir, I..."  "Marine!  Don't interrupt me.  I'm not finished.  I know you are upset now, but trust me, you will thank me later.  If we discharge you now it would be a bad conduct discharge.  And we don't have grounds for discharging you in that manner because you weren't convicted of a crime in America and the crimes in Japan were misdemeanors.  So we have no grounds to discharge you, period."  After about a hour I calmed down and I asked the Commander if I could at least go home on leave to see my son.  "Lance Corporal Redditt, you and I both know if I allow you to go home on leave you won't come back. You would be AWOL and then you would get a dishonorable discharge.  Lance Corporal, you have been through so much.  And yes, this was a terrible experience, but why mess up the rest of your life by going AWOL?  You may hate me now, but trust me, years down the line you will thank me."  I didn't know it then, but those were some of the truest words ever spoken.  

Palm Beach Gardens, FL, February 28, 2015
24 years later and some of the mental scars still remain.  I still can't stand to hear people whistle.  It actually drives me insane.  It takes me back to every time Hitler, Stalin or Punk ass whistled.  I heard a whistle and I knew an ass whooping was coming.  Today, I have a lot of family members and friends that whistle.  That leaves me with one mission, stop the whistling!  I came up with a good method a few years ago on how to deal with it.  Every time a person whistles, I engage them in conversation so that they would talk instead of whistle. It works 95 percent of the time.  The other 5 percent?  I find an excuse to leave!  It's amazing that after so many years that still affects me.  I still can't sleep in a room if the door isn't locked.  I never sleep in a bedroom with the door being open.  I still feel the need to be able to prepare myself if someone were to come in while I am sleeping.  This used to drive my wife crazy.  I have gotten better about letting people touch me.  I am still an extreme germaphobe, but I am better about shaking hands and letting people touch me.  My wife can even wake me up now by touching me, instead of calling my name repeatedly because I would freak out if she touched me to wake me.  It is and has definitely been a process but the scars are healing.

Iwakuni & Yokosuka, Japan, 1994 & early 1995
I went back into the Marine Corps and I served my time in Iwakuni, Japan, doing the job that I was assigned to do.  And I must say this, I did my job phenomenally well, perhaps better than anyone that had ever held that position before or after me.  But I'll tell you what, it is unreal how God works.  Three months after I was released from Prison, I stepped back inside the walls of the Yokosuka Prison to come face to face with Punk ass, Stalin and Hitler again.  There is no other explanation other than, it had to be God....  

To be continued in my book.  Release date will be announced here first!

Copyright February 2015 by Sheldon Redditt

Tuesday, February 17, 2015

2 Years, 3 Months, 26 Days and 11 Hours (Part 4)

Posted on 02/17/2015

I dedicate this blog to Gunnery Sergeant Richard Mennifield. 



Gunnery Sergeant Richard Mennifield is the single most important person I have met on this level of existence.  I would not be the Sheldon Redditt, that I am today,  had it not been for this man.  I have been looking for this man since September of 2007.  I searched and searched and searched and I never could find him.  Part 4 was halfway written when I received word that Staff Sergeant Mennifield had passed in February of 2007.  He made Gunnery Sergeant before he retired from the Marine Corps.  The news of his passing hit me like a ton of bricks. I NEVER cry when people pass because I fully understand that is part of Life.  We all will pass on to the next level of existence, but I believe that on the next level, we continue to exist.  That being said, I took his passing really hard.  This was the man who saved my life. This man totally changed my way of thinking.  He ignited the spark in me.  He helped me to begin to see and judge people for who they are and not for the color of their skin.  You see, without Gunnery Sergeant Mennifield, there would be no Amy or Hayden because I hated white people at the time.  My life would be totally different if I hadn't met this man.  I know I am rambling but when I got the news of his passing, I had to rewrite Part 4.  Truly one of my biggest regrets in life is that I never got a chance to see you again, to thank you for all that you did for me and let you know all that you meant to me.  There is not enough time or paper to fully explain how much you meant to me, but I will try my best to honor you in my book.

Yokosuka, Japan 1994 
Today is the big day!  I am finally being released from this Japanese Prison.  I made it.  I am looking in the mirror shaving.  Wow I really made it.  I hardly recognize the man in the mirror.  I think this is the first time I have really looked at myself.  I am a fraction of the man I used to be, both physically and mentally.  I have lost 120 pounds, aged about 15 years physically, as well as mentally.  The tears come uncontrollably.  All the beatings, all the days of being so hungry that I thought I would die, the mental abuse was about to be over.  I get to go home today.  I get to see my son Ryan soon.  He is the only person that I care about anymore. Everyone else is dead to me.  I am still filled with a lot of anger.  I will be back on American soil real soon.  I will kiss the ground when I get back.  People can say what they want about America but I tell you what.  People have no idea how fucked up it is in other countries.  You have zero rights and you are guilty until proven innocent, not the other way around.  These are my thoughts as I am waiting for The Marine Corps to pick me up.  The Marine Corps arrived around 10:00 am to pick me up.  I was never so happy to see another human being or two human beings in this case.  I needed a moment to take it all in.  This was my first time outside of this walls in over 2 years.  The Marines had a ton of questions but I couldn't even talk.  I think at that moment it really hit me what all I had gone through and that I had survived it.  The mental scars would last for another 24 years but physically, I am FINALLY safe. 

Palm Beach Gardens, FL, February 17th 2015
I'm sitting in my office as I'm writing and I am thanking God for not only keeping me throughout that experience but also that I am not in a mental institution.  I now know that God was preparing me for that experience in advance.  I became a vegetarian about 2 months before I went to prison and still am to this day.  Becoming a vegetarian prior to my imprisonment, allowed me to have discipline when it came to food.  But what if God had not prepared me for that?  I would have surely starved to death. There were plenty of nights that I went to bed hungry because I knew that something was put in my food.  I would have rather starved than to drink piss or even worse.  I began to learn a lot about Religion and History prior to going in and that truly helped me.  The one positive thing about being in there was that they would let you read.  That was a LIFE SAVER.

Yokosuka, Japan, Day of Release, 1994
I am riding in the car with the two Marines that picked me up, just taking it all in.  One Marine asked me, "Lance Corporal Redditt,"  I haven't heard that title in awhile.  "Can I ask you just one question? Is it really as bad in there as they say it is?"  "It is much much worse.", I tell him.  "Imagine the worst thing you can imagine and multiply that by ten.  That's how horrible it was in there."  We arrive at base and I am immediately taken to the Commanding Officers' Office.  "Lance Corporal Redditt", he began to say, "I understand that you have been through a terrible experience."  "Sir, that is a understatement, but I just want to put this behind me and get back home.  So what time is my flight leaving today to get me back to the United States?"  His answer floored me.  "Lance Corporal Redditt, you still owe The Marine Corps time.  You see, you were only charged with misdemeanor charges, so you have to go back into the Marine Corps and not only serve the rest of your time, but you have to make up the time that you missed while you were locked up in the Japanese Prison."  My heart dropped.  I can't believe what I am hearing I know this mother..... didn't say what I think he just said.  "EXCUSE ME, SIR!  I know you are FUCKING kidding me right?  I know damn well you are not telling me that after 2 years, 3 months, 26 days and 11 hours in a fucking hell hole, that you are telling me I can't go home."  "Calm down Lance Corporal? Fuck calming down!  You need to get me a fucking flight back to America right the fuck now!  I can't believe that you would say some bullshit like that to me!  After I have....." Four Marines rush into the room.  In that moment, I knew I had really Fucked up. 

To be Continued.....

Copyright February 2015 by Sheldon Redditt


Monday, February 9, 2015

2 Years, 3 Months, 26 Days and 11 Hours (Part 3)

Posted on 02/09/2015



"Man!  This Jodeci CD is nice!  "Forever My Lady" and "Stay" are my favorite cuts."  I am talking to my boys; Parker, Heard and Yates.  We are sitting in Heards' and I room, talking about our girlfriends.  "I'm about to go call my girl right now", I remember Heard saying.  Minutes later, I hear a knock on the door.  Parker turned the music down so that I can answer the door.  It was Staff Sergeant Minnifield.  "What's going on Staff Sergeant?  What did we do now?"  The look on his face told me that something was seriously wrong.  "Redditt, the Japanese have decided to charge you."  WAIT WHAT?  "Charge me for what?  I didn't do shit!"  "Redditt, they are charging you with leaving the scene of a crime, resisting arrest, attempted assault on a police officer and disorderly conduct."  "You can't be serious Staff Sergeant."  But the look on his face told it all.  "Redditt, the Japanese also believe that you guys are a flight risk, so they want to take you guys into custody immediately."  "How in the hell did a day of listening to music in my barracks turn into this?", I remember thinking.  "The Marine Corps told the Japanese that we would take you into custody and that we would lock you up in our jail on Camp Hansen.  So I'm gonna need you to pack up some things, so I can take you up to Camp Hansen to jail."

Yokosuka, Japan, sometime in 1994 
Oh how my life has changed since that dreadful day.  I am in Solitary Confinement again for 30 more glorious days.  "This is it, God, I can't take it anymore.  You say you answer prayers. So, why the fuck aren't you answering mine?  I am sick of this bullshit!  Either you answer my prayers or tonight I'm taking this fucking sheet and I'm hanging myself."  These are my words, as I am sitting Indian style, facing and talking to the wall, the tears continue flowing down my face.  One of the prisoners committed suicide yesterday and Punk ass thought it was funny.  "Redditt San, when are we gonna find you hanging?", he says laughing.  "You are a Bitch you know that?  When I was whooping your ass you were screaming like a bitch but now you want to be tough in front of your goons?"  Damn!  I fall into his trap.  The trap that I said I wouldn't fall into again.  After the last 60 day stint, I decided that was it for me.  But here I am again for 30 days for disrespecting Punk ass. 

Okinawa, Japan, sometime in 1992
"1 year and 9 months of hard labor", the judge said.  I stood there in shock as the judge was rambling on for what seem like hours.  How the hell did 4 misdemeanor charges turn into almost 2 fucking years in prison?  These same charges in the US would have been dropped or I would have got a pat on the wrist at most.  Unfortunately we are in Japan and not America.  So for our "crimes", I got 1 year and 9 months.  My other buddy got 2 years for robbing the cab driver and my other two buddies didn't get charged at all, nor should they have.  I truly believe that the Japanese offered the Americans a deal.  I believe they said, "give us two and we will let two go.".  But, that is my opinion.  I have no proof of that.  The Japanese police took my buddy and myself into custody immediately.  As we arrive at the jail in Okinawa, the two investigators greet us.  "I told you, you would pay.  You are ours now."  A right hook to the face.  Damn!  What a greeting.   I'm here less than one minute and I'm already getting my ass whooped.  I see why they say the life expectancy for an American is less than 6 months.  "You were very disrespectful when we were interviewing you, Redditt San.  I promise you, we will teach you some respect here."

Yokosuka, Japan, 1994 
"Redditt San, your brother tried to visit you and we told him, "No!"."  Punk ass begins to tell me, grinning from ear to ear.  Unbeknownst to me at the time, my brother was stationed in Yokosuka, Japan, in the Navy.  "Wow, my brother!", I thought.  I almost forgot I had a brother or family for that matter.   Let  me back up and explain.  You see, in Japan, you can't have personal visits and you can only write or receive 1 to 4 letters a month, depending on your behavior. Needless to say, I only ever received 5 letters the entire time I was locked up.  So, I was disconnected from my family and friends.  "Fuck him!  I don't want to see him or any of them for that matter!  I have been here for almost two fucking years and I haven't heard from them.  Only one letter from my Mom, two from my sister and two from my step mom.  So, they all can kiss my ass!"  I am angry at the world at this point.  "I just can't understand how everyone has forgotten about me.  Ok no, no don't go there," I tell myself.  "What is the goal? To get out of here alive!  So we have no time to dwell on what is or isn't going on in the outside world.  Stay focused.  I miss my son so much!  I haven't seen him in almost 3 years. He was 2 months the last time I saw him.  Now he is...let's see.  Wow!  He just turned 3.  I wonder what he looks like now.  I wonder if he is..." "Redditt San!"  My thoughts are interrupted by Punk ass.  "You know you aren't gonna make it out of here alive, right?  We are gonna wait until it's almost time for you to leave and than we are gonna kill you.", he breaks into laughter.  Punk ass being Punk ass.  He has being making these statements since I have been here.  They don't even faze me anymore.  Back to my thoughts, "if I stay focused and don't let him get to me, I will be out of here in about 5 months.  8 more days and I will be out of Solitary confinement."  Yesterday Punk Ass really tried to test me by bringing a picture of my son to me and tearing it up right in my face.  "Redditt San", he said, "you have mail!  It's a picture of your son!"   He stands there tearing it up, without even showing it to me.  "This low down motherfucker!  I haven't seen my son in almost 3 years!  I wouldn't know him from Adam if I saw him and the one picture that I do receive...this devil rips it up in my face!  Stay calm, Sheldon, this is only a test.  I tell myself, I will not let him get to me. 

5 months later.... 
Tomorrow is the big day.  I am finally getting out of here. 2 years 3 months 26 days and 11 hours. I am finally free. I am going home!"  Or so I thought... The bullshit that happens next..... To be continued....

Copyright February 2015 by Sheldon Redditt

Saturday, January 31, 2015

2 Years, 3 Months, 26 Days and 11 Hours (Part 2)

Posted on 01/31/2015



July 1992, Okinawa, Japan
As I came to, I was in a Japanese jail.  "What the hell is going on?", I asked the Japanese Prison Guard.  No answer.  A couple of hours passed and my Staff Sergeant, along with another Marine Corps representative arrived and bailed us out of jail.  

Sometime in late 1993, Yokosuka, Japan
Getting bailed out seems like decades ago, I think as I am sitting here in Solitary Confinement for the 4th time.  This time, I got 60 glorious days for beating the shit out of Punk ass.  I finally caught him by himself and whooped his ass for what seemed like a good 30 seconds before his goons showed up.  I hate Punk ass the most out of all of the Japanese Prison Guards. You see, whereas Hitler, Stalin and the rest of the guards were ruthless, they were indiscriminate in passing out the ass whippings.  EVERYONE got a beating from them.  And I mean EVERYONE had a turn, unless you were willing to give sexual favors to them.  Punk ass, on the other hand, only fucked with me.  So, imagine how happy I was to finally get him alone and beat the crap out of him!  He had it coming this time, for real!  The night before, Punk ass ejaculated into my food after masturbating.  Or at least, that's what he told me the prior evening after picking up my meal tray.  I can still remember the smile on his face when he told me what he had done.  I think I vomited for what seems like hours.  Whether he did or didn't, I was determined that when the opportunity presented itself, I was gonna beat the living shit out of him.  "YOU PUNK ASS MOTHERFUCKER!!!!!  Who is laughing now?", I recall saying while I punched him in his face.  I stomped and kicked him as he hit the ground.  I heard the guards running in to save him.  Damn!  Why didn't I grab his radio first?  It has his body alarm on it!  That's all I could think as I listened to the sound of their footsteps.  That and hit him harder and faster.  In my eagerness to get my revenge on Punk Ass, I didn't think to grab his radio first, so he couldn't activate his body alarm.  Ok, they got me.  Now my beating will begin.  God what has happened to me?  I have turned into the animal that I so despise.  These are my thoughts as I sit in Solitary Confinement.  God, I am turning into a monster and I need your help.  This is my prayer, as the tears begin to pour down my face.  If you let me make it out of here alive, I promise I will dedicate my life to helping others.  I will serve you and do your will in whatever capacity that may be.  If you...  Redditt San!  I hear the Japanese guard call my name. It's funny how they always call you Mr., like they have respect for you or something.  It's shower time the guard informed me with a slight grin on his face.  I know that look.  Something is up.  As I get to the shower, Hitler and Stalin, along with two other guards, were waiting for me.  I didn't even let out a scream, as Hitler hit me with the electric baton.  They all begin to beat the crap out of me.  Revenge for whooping Punk ass.  I must have whooped him good, judging by the way they are whooping my ass.  Now that I think about it, I haven't seen Punk ass in a while.  "Baka Kokujin", I hear them all say which means (stupid black) or (stupid nigger) in Japanese.  As they continue to kick, stomp and hit me with the electric baton, I hear Hitler tell the other guards, "No face shots, the Gaijin (foreigners) will be here next week.".  Under the Sofa Status Agreement that America has with Japan, the Marine Corps is allowed to come and visit any Marine that is locked up in a Japanese prison or jail one time per month.  The Japanese guards always knew when they were coming, so usually a week prior to them coming, the beating would stop.  So, usually you were safe for at least one week out of the month.  Oh how I live for the last week in the month!  The Marine Corps always came on the first of the month.  We always beg them to come unannounced so they can see what really goes on.   But, we are always met with the same answer, "The Japanese dictate the day that we can come.".  Great for me.  

July, 1992 Okinawa, Japan
I had no idea what was waiting for me down the line when my Staff Sergeant and the Marine Corps Representative picked us up from the Okinawa jail.  "What the hell happened?", I remember my Staff Sergeant asking us.  We all repeated the same story.  "We just ran, Staff Sergeant!"  My Staff Sergeant began telling us that the Japanese Authorities believe that we are part of a ring of foreigners whom have been robbing Japanese citizens around town.  "I know you are guilty!", the Japanese investigators scream at me.  "You Gaijin come to our country and rob our hard working citizens.  You will pay!  Mark my words, you will pay!"  "Sir, there is a serious misunderstanding.", I begin to say to the investigator.  "My friends and I are not the people that have been robbing people in town.  We simply took a (honcho) cab back to base.  We just saw our buddy starting to run, so we ran too.  So yes, I guess we are guilty of running, but that's it.  You can put me in a line up, since you say you have witnesses and they will clear us of any wrong doing.  We didn't fucking do this shit!"  "Calm down.", I hear my Staff Sergeant say.  We head home for the day and for the next 2 weeks we went back for questioning.  The investigator finally believed our story.  Thank God we can finally put this mess behind us and go on with our lives.  At least, that's what we thought.  Nothing or no one could have prepared me for what happened to us just 5 days after leaving that police station for what we thought was our last time.  To be continued.....

Copyright January 2015 by Sheldon Redditt 

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

2 Years, 3 Months, 26 Days and 11 Hours, My Journey To Death And Back(Part 1)

Posted on 01/20/2015


2 YEARS, 3 MONTHS, 26 DAYS and 11 HOURS.  That was the amount of time that I spent in a Japanese prison.  Wow, I finally got it out after 24 years, I finally got it out.  This is my journey to death and back.  I hope that this story will inspire you to never give up.  No matter what, to NEVER GIVE UP.  I have waited 24 years to tell my story.  No longer ashamed.  No longer ashamed. 


Okinawa, Japan, the Year was 1993 
I hear the whistling.  I hear the sound of the electric baton.  God, please not me again tonight.  Last night was too much.  I can still taste and smell Hitler's urine as he and Stalin along with Punk ass stuck my head in the toilet.  After fighting with the three of them for what seem like hours they finally got the best of me.  As Stalin and Punk ass were holding me, Hitler thought it was a good idea to piss in the toilet and soak my face in it.  Ok, let's get this over with already.  Two hours later and Punk ass is still whistling.  It's a mental game at this point.  They like to see you suffer mentally first before the physical abuse starts.  I got a little surprise for their asses if it is me again tonight.  I have poured water mixed with my urine all over the floor so if and when they do come in to get me, I will have the jump on them.  Sure, eventually they will over power me and beat the living shit out of me but I will get some good punches in and enjoy the brief satisfaction of knowing that they got a taste of their own medicine.  Shit!  Showtime, it's me again tonight.  I jump out of bed as soon as I hear the key go into the lock.  As Stalin comes running in first, he slips along with the other two and I begin my attack.  I hit Stalin with a good right left combination.  Lights out.  I don't remember what happened next.  I do remember waking up with....  WAIT!  Let me back up for a second. 

Hitler, Stalin and Punk Ass were the nicknames that we gave to the Japanese Prison Guards. You see, for 2 years, 3 months, 26 days and 11 hours, I was held in a Japanese Prison.  Yes, I said Japanese prison.  FOR WHAT IS THE QUESTION RIGHT?  I will get to that later.  Back to my story, so as I come to, Hitler and Punk ass were holding me while Stalin punched, kicked and hit me with the electric baton.  Afterward, he thought it was a pretty good idea to piss and spit on me for giving him a brief taste of his own medicine.  As I lay here going in and out of consciousness, I asked God, "How did I get here?".  Better yet, "WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS?".  I don't know how long I laid on that floor bleeding and smelling like piss, but I eventually mustered up enough energy to get up and wash myself up as best I could.  Damn!  I just remembered I had a shower today, so it will be another 2 days before I will get another one.  We were only allowed 3 showers a week.  So, as I was washing up Punk ass comes down and tells me I will be going back to solitary confinement for assaulting him and his two goons.  Great.  Another 30 days in the hole that won't count.  Let me tell you how the Japanese prison system works.  Their prison system is STRICTLY for punishment.  It is not for rehabilitation.  They have one of the lowest crime rates in the World for a reason because prison is HARD LABOR.  They don't have repeat offenders.  So with me receiving another 30 days in the hole, that means that my time stops.  The time you spend in the hole or solitary confinement doesn't count toward your sentence.  I was given a 1 year and 9 month sentence.  But, by this being my 3rd, 30 day sentence in solitary confinement, that 1 year, 9 months has now turned into 2 years.  Solitary Confinement is where the real games begin.  Your day begins with them awaking you at 4am promptly simply to sit in the middle of the floor upright Indian style facing a wall for 12 hours.  There is no furniture just a mat.  You only get 2 bathroom breaks a day, two showers a week and two great meals of fish heads and white rice a day. And if you are lucky a buttered roll.  Or, if you are unlucky you will get soup and white rice mixed with their special sauce of urine. Needless to say there were many days that I didn't eat.  When I went in I weighed 275 pounds.  I came out weighing 155 pounds.  I had a 6 pack though!  

Ok, let's start from the beginning.  I, along with a couple of my Marine Corps buddies were heading back to base from a night club in Okinawa, Japan.  We took a honcho (taxi cab) back to base.  My buddy in the front was in charge of paying the cab driver, as we all had to chip in and we each gave him the money to do so.  My other buddies and I went across the street to our favorite restaurant to order food before we walked up the hill back to base.  I could overhear my buddy and the cab driver beginning to argue about something, so I looked over to see my buddy beginning to run up the hill.  Instinctively, my buddies and I began to run up the hill as well.  "Dude, why are you running?", we began to ask, as we kept running up the hill.  As we got to the top of the hill the honcho had already called the police and told them, that he was just robbed.  The Japanese Police, whom guard the gates at night, immediately stopped us as we got to the top of the hill.  The cab driver, along with several other Japanese Police arrived at the top of the hill.  My buddy began to explain to the police what happened.  He began to explain to them that the cab driver tried to cheat him out of his money.  He stated that it cost about a 1000 yen for the cab, which is about 10 American dollars for the cab fare.  After paying with a 20 dollar bill, the cab driver only gave him $1 back, thus cheating him out of roughly $9.  My buddy got so upset that the cab driver tried to cheat him, that he snatched his money back, along with the cab drivers' money and began to run up the hill toward base.  As he explained to the police what happened, the honcho said, "No!  He took my money too on purpose!"  The Japanese Police said that they were going to take all four of us down to the station for questioning.  I said, "No, the honcho already told you that we didn't do anything but run and that we gave our friend our money to pay him.".  Also, we knew that under the Sofa Status Agreement that the Japanese authorities could hold us for up to 28 days without notifying the American authorities that they have us.  It was thoroughly explained to us as we moved through orientation, that you should never go with the Japanese authorities and that you should always follow protocol and wait for the American authorities or representatives to show up.  I told the police that they had to call the American authorities and that I would not just go with them.  That's when one of the officers attempted to grab me and I pushed his hand away.  He attempted to grab me again and according to the Japanese Police, I swung at him.  But, the next thing I knew I was waking up in the Japanese Jail after being hit in the back of the head with a baton.

To be continued.....

Copyright January 2015 Sheldon Redditt