skyrider

okay.....I'm back.....took a shower and grabbed a corona ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Fourth and Final Weekend By Wednesday, as the adv class weekend was but days away.....I did what I've always done, throughout my life, prior to every football, basketball or track meet.......I refused to allow any distractions after Wednesday. I absolutely needed Thursday and Friday to focus......to stay in my lane and run this race. My driving focus was to run THRU the tape......for all those people in our state, ie adv class grads, who'd helped and supported us all those six years. I was running for them! No. One. Else. Not for martindale, not for twi, not for the region guy.......the only way to stop the conflicts raging in my mind was to RUN THAT DAMN CLASS. Grandparents and aunts, and sisters were coming into OKC to help babysit advanced class grads' kids. My wife nearly avoided me the whole week. She focused on the boys and kept her distance (from me). She was supportive......but, as always, gave me my space. The weight was all on me! With all the communication flying back and forth, I wasn't even sure I had all the facts about the hq-incident. And, apparently I didn't (because years later here at GSC) more facts spilled forth that I did not know. So.....once this class was over, then I could decide then. I shut out the world around me......and ran the class. Following Week The phone lines were quiet. Everyone in the state was exhausted......most men, back to work......women, work, kids and school prep. My wife and I, too, were talking about the boys and school. We had worked the whole damn weekend......crap, probably put in our 40+ hour week by then. I had no guilt, NONE, about not being at my desk. My attention was now, front and center, on my family. Yeah....everything was still swirling, but I just needed a few days to stop.........running. And......that's what I did.

Three Weeks: Torrents and Whirlpools Mid-July ------> By Day: All the reports, faxes, phone calls, prep for meetings, and the 4th advanced class weekend fast approaching, it took everything in my willpower to stay focused on ministry work. Thankfully, the region guy left me alone Monday-Wednesday....I'm sure that he, too, had his hands full in Texas. But when Thursday and Friday drew near......I dreaded throughout the day when he might call. Fridays were the worst, because we had to get those weekly reports from all the corps in the state (in 30-minute slot increments).......I still can't believe we did that......and ours, and fax them to the region. Within 2 hours, he generally would mark them all up with comments or big ??? (marks).....and then, I'd have to try and read between the lines of THAT, before faxing back. During the day.......it felt like a torrent of water pouring over my head !! By Night: Talking with my wife and all the issues.......ministry events, the boys, their schooling, the fall semester, neglecting the boys, etc. etc. See, that's the thing about life....it just DOES NOT STOP to let you handle one issue at a time. Nope. It came in waves upon waves.....lapping into the shores of our lives. Decisions. Decisions. Guilt. Shame. Conflict. Anger. Defiance. How dare the region guy keep leaning on us to insert himself into our family/children. With each passing day, I was becoming more defiant to "throw my damn corps nametag at him"......and yell, screw it, I quit. Trying to keep my anger from boiling over was extremely challenging. More phone calls. I received four or five calls from corps grads in other states who wanted my advice. They, too, had become privy to segments of this "sexcapade" at hq...and conflicted in their decisions. I flat out told most every one, we were in the process of turning in our corps status. We just had to wait and finish this 4th weekend. The conflict of interest raged thru my soul.......what I wanted to do versus what I was expected to do. And, advanced class grads throughout the state were looking forward to the final session. They'd built their expectations for this. They'd paid for it. Babysitters were lined up weeks in advance to pull this off. Some even had relatives in from other states, grandma or aunt to babysit their kids.....while these advanced class grads attended Fri/Sat/Sun sessions. The promotion and preparation had been coming down the pike for a year. I. Felt. So. Awful. What. Was. I. To. Do? Hell, I was the limb coordinator with the damn bullhorn trying to cheer it on. Late at night: .....I felt like I was being sucked into a whirlpool. The emotional turbulence was overwhelming me. As I said before, I was sleeping on the sofa....or sitting in the recliner.......for hours. Watching dials click to 1:31am, 2:20am, 3:12am.

Insert: Last one, before moving on......I promise. When I typed those 36 pages (double-spaced....because that's how wierwille wanted it)...........I typed this long paragraph with a subtitle "Caught in a Web." The process of getting out of that deprogramming captivity felt like being so entangled, I could hardly get out. As I sat there with wierwille, little did I understand any of it at all...........I was STILL in the web....even more so. I was looking at the "spider."

Insert: Diving Deeper: Extraction, Extrication, Extrapolation Please indulge me this one more insert before moving on: Example: Movie "The Impossible" --- Spoiler Alert (just in case): Naomi Watts (character) and her son are in dire straits and she is deeply injured with more complications setting in. Nevertheless, she and her son reach out to help another little boy to save him as well. A dramatic outcome is revealed at the end of the movie. IMO......naomi & son were struggling to extricate themselves from the tsunami aftermath, yet still took time to extract this little boy. Extrication: Here at GSC, some have rhetorically raised the point, "Where are those clergy/corps to help untangle and free others from the cult?" Where are those defining boundaries? Have those who remain in splinter groups been extracted/extricated from wierwille doctrine and/or cult? Extrapolation: Some drive-bye posters at GSC have thrown their judgments and opinions at us.....with no critical thought of our lives or experiences. They draw their conclusions and results from predetermined sources. The far extreme position: anyone who is posting on this site is possessed.

Compartmentalized: Throughout my corps in-residence training......where cult-indoctrination was sown, planted and fertilized (yeah....farm kid goes corps), each day was slated for compartmental thinking: 1) morning -- classes, 2) afternoon -- work, and 3) evening -- classes. Some quirks of variation, but not that much. Sure, other people everywhere have this grouping too.....but the regimentation was heavy-handed and "spiritually" onerous. We were trained to obey....to have God's approval. And further, when wierwille was on campus, he implanted this secret microchip "lockbox with a mystical key doctrine" to spiritually and sexually abuse at will. Compartment living was so ingrained into the corps psyche that, to this day, I see "compartments" in most everything. We were indoctrinated to "do the Word"......there was no such things as weekends. No boundaries. The blurring of boundaries between personal and ministry gave them intrusive access to our lives. And, so it was now. Phone calls of the "advanced class sex scandal" were coming in. But every day needed compartments: By day --- At the limb, we were filling out reports, answering faxes, and communicating the results of that 3rd adv class weekend. We were on the clock. Paid to be at the desk doing the work of the ministry. Weekly projected schedules needed to be drafted in 30 minute time-slots, reports from other corps in the state faxed us their schedules....then faxed to region. Then, faxed back with questions, markings, underlining.......like a teacher might grade a paper. The 4th weekend was fast approaching and, again, all the coordination of meeting room, setup, delegation, etc. By night -- My wife and I were getting phone calls from others. Having served at this level of capacity, our reach of involvement extended quite far and wide. A couple of very detailed phone calls went into the depths of this depravity at the highest levels of twi. Undeniable documentable facts and specifics and timelines. The nakedness of its exposure and the parading of evil.....how could I have not seen this? By midnight -- I stopped going to bed.....I was too restless. I slept on the sofa in the living room night after night....knowing that if I'd go to bed, my tossing and turning would frustrate my wife. The questions and emotional turmoil washed over me, drowning me, suffocating me. The sensation felt like I was throwing a grappling hook out there in the darkness.....struggling for answers to questions floating beyond my reach. And, once I got to that trauma state of turmoil......the hauntings of my past captivity rippled back torturing my soul. Insert: What is it about water? Quite often human struggle and agony are depicted by water. Metaphorically and realistically, movies and books depict this force of nature that is out of our reach, out of our control. Respectively, these four had rippled, and even now, are rippling into my conscience: Titanic The Impossible The Things They Carried Undertow Insert: How Deeply Have We Thought? Distinctions of the cult experience need to be clarified. Extraction -- To draw out by effect Extrication -- To disentangle from a net (web) Extrapolation -- To arrive at conclusions or results Who has experienced the cult-tentacles and how far have those tentacles reached? Who got drawn in by the octopus and nearly devoured? How fierce was that fight for mere survival? Having survived does that trauma come haunting into the night? How deeply have I thought this through? In this section alone, The Two Bookends --- it overlaps my own timeline of this thread. When I started this project, I didn't plan to go into my captivity.....I had only thought about the 1989-1998 timeline and zeroing in on the "full-time corps revelation" to explain it in-depth. So now, my "first bookend" doesn't even fall into the timeline I presented. If I hadn't included my captivity, then this section might be something quite different altogether. In the past three weeks, I find myself reaching beyond the thoughts I've held for years. How much further can or should I ponder? How far does this expanse reach? How deep is the abyss? What stirs the questions of one's very soul between the extremes of the universe? Or, the expanse and polar extremes of human condition: 1) Existence and/or 2) Extinction. Who am I and why am I here? Was it this trauma of extremes, captivity and extrication, that haunted, and still haunts, me into the night? At times, I think that I'm still throwing that grappling hook back to the past.....and then, turn to throw it forward to help extricate me from the dark. .

Part VIII The Two Bookends In OKC, as we were finishing that third Advanced Class Weekend.......I started receiving several phone calls, so did my wife. Specific details will remain anonymous (at present), because as of this writing.....most all have moved on with lives of their own. To go into "the deep dive of details" would only further hurt those caught in the aftermath of this "minor" tsunami. But.......word was spreading far and wide: martindale was involve in a "sexcapade episode" at hq, during that HQ-Advanced Class nonetheless. The phones were ringing and the whispers increased into conversations and divulging secrets. I had gone thru one dramatic episode (1981 captivity)......and this next one was unfolding (1998 extrication): The Two Bookends. Deeply guarded secrets had come to light.......there was a pattern. Martindale was a sexual predator. Days followed with more phone calls. People whom I knew for decades were opening up and revealing personal involvement regarding craig martindale. My wife and I started grappling with this rippling news.....these thrashing waters of emotion against OUR association with twi and those who'd exited twi years ago, and some still in. We were caught in the turbulence. They, too, those still in.....were caught as well. More phone calls. More "lock box" secrets. By the third or fourth day, my sleep was tormented by the questions.....whether to even believe this was true concerning martindale/twi. WHAT HAPPENED AT HQ? What happened at that advanced class? Sex....adultery, predation? What? Someone was put on a bus and sent back to Colorado. More questions. More confusion. Many of these calls were from people who'd left years ago....were they lying? Why come forward with this information now? Why wasn't this exposed in the '80s? Seductresses leading other corps women to martindale. Corps girls shuttled to Dayton motel, three-somes, and then given money to go shopping. Cabin 12 at camp gunnison. Motor coach encounters and one girl hiding in the closet knowing that donna was just minutes away. Why hadn't I seen any of this? Why hadn't someone gone public with this?

Pause: Somewhere I heard it quoted....."You never understand the devastation of a tornado, until it hits YOUR house." But......far, far deeper impact would be the agonizing human toil and suffering of a tsunami.....experiencing it, and its aftermath.

Pause: Extrication.......perhaps, a deeper way to view this would be like the movie The Impossible........all the inter-connecting variables, dynamics, emotions, diligent searching, tossed in turbulent destruction and undertow, grasping, agonizing, emotional trauma......desperately working towards a positive outcome. ~~~~~~~~ In this movie, naomi watts (wife/mother of 3) was deeply injured by the tsunami wave while her family was vacationing in Thailand. Her injuries intensified and she was fighting for her life. Family members were separated. All those in the family had their own trauma (as well as all other "vacationers"). A sequential unfolding of pain, suffering, agony, family reconciliation, etc......and an ending that left the moviegoer to see the emotional toil that would linger. Even more so now, I see the extrication element and why I saw this movie, twice. And yes, I cried.

Pause: Examples/Explanations: Extraction ...... this is not like one day you're in a cult, the next week you exit and have a different life. Not like a "tooth extraction"......go into dentist chair, come out an hour later with tooth extracted and a whole "new mouth and smile." Extrication.......perhaps, a deeper way to view this would be like the movie The Impossible........all the inter-connecting variables, dynamics, emotions, diligent searching, tossed in turbulent destruction and undertow, grasping, agonizing, emotional trauma......desperately working towards a positive outcome.

Lots of tough decisions to process, isn't it?

No krys.......I have no desire or plans to put identity out in the open......and I try to mask others so that an internet search won't expose them either. When I mention someone like the La1lys.......only cultists and us ex-cultists can decode that in the vast array of mega-trillions of words on the internet, right? For years, I've given enough "bread crumbs" of my life that ALL those WayGB-types and 2 dozen staffers (?) who are check in here know who I am. Long before this thread......they HAD to know. And, if they didn't....then they truly are dumber than a bag of hammers. Again, we are talking about things that happened 19 years ago.....and I can shade the anonymity just like Charlene did in her book. Is that the best way to handle this? I certainly will not be divulging identities. Does that sound good to you? Or, I could just sprint to the end with everything a blur.......and say, that's all it got. lol

Pause to Explain: When I noted previously......"Here at GSC......I'm not sure I've ever read a personal point-by-point detailed explanation on 'extricating oneself from a cult.'".......there are PLENTY of reasons for this; none, of which, are more important than: anonymity on the internet rebuilding one's life, resume and career after 15-25 yrs in cult.....overwhelming to stay ahead of family/money issues too much detail -- exposes one's identity and/or future opportunities it's a grueling process to dig deep into the past embarrassment/shame to admit life has the uncanny mastery of throwing curve balls life quickly moves on who really wants to stay in this zone it's the same reason why people go to movies to "feel good" IMO.....these are some of the reasons why so many former corps/staffers/ac grad are no longer here. I'm sure there are plenty more reasons. It's taken me nearly 19 years to come forward on this stuff......and even now, to go deep into my personal extrication process I find myself shunning it, not wanting to put myself "out there" like that. It really is painful.

More Background: My wife and I exited twi in Aug 1998....and began the long arduous task of rebuilding our family and relationships In April 1999.....Paul All3n had started up Waydale....a mission to expose twi and martindale, hence "Way-dale." I was in OKC when Paul got his website up and running. I'd gotten onto Trancenet another website connecting ex-twiers when I came across Waydale. I signed on as FreshAir77.......this avatar had a double meaning to me: 1) I was out of the cult breathing FreshAir and 2) I'd had seven/eight months of reconnecting with my parents....and like a past metaphor of my stepping out on the back deck during that deprogramming episode on the 7th night.......thus, FreshAir (7)dad, (7)mom...standing with them breathing that fresh air. All these years on GSC.....and I've never told the posters the deeper meaning of my first avatar. Now, you know.

Pause to explain: Right now, in real time.......I'm sipping on a corona, it's the nearest I can get to a beach. The wind chill is -3 and the tv evening news is in the background.....the ft. lauderdale killing of 5 shot dead, many wounded. Does anybody really know what time it is? Does anybody really care? Does anybody really want to hear my extrication story.....the other bookend? Another couple bottles of corona.....and I might just fade away. I have no notes.....but can pretty much surmise, by going to the 1998 calendar (the internet is awesome)... Four Weekends in OKC: Adv Class Weekends First weekend.....May 8-10, 1998 Second...............June 12-14, 1998 Third...................July 10-12, 1998 Fourth.................Aug 7-9, 1998 By early June, my wife and I were in deep conflict about the upcoming school year. Both boys were in really good schools, at those junctures where having them stay right here in OKC was a perfect fit.....but our region leaders were leaning on us to move to hq. It's time......they'd said, "you've been here for six years.....hq has a need for you to be there." Our corps assignment had been to stay in OKC, but the La1lys were making phone calls to us and leaning on us to change and go hq......... things were swirling as the "money iceberg" toll on the hull was taking twi down. I don't remember when martindale stated publically that the "revelation" had changed......and now, field corps were going off payroll. Anyways......we were nearing the precipice of it all by July 1st.......and that's about when "the second bookend" starts. ~~~~~~~ Going for another beer...........now, back to real time, Jan 2017......what year am I in? The dates, past 1998.....further back, 1981......and, trying to retell this story to you in 2017. Now, I have much more of the background that has filled in......and a totally different world. And, now (?) JYDL......being installed as 4th president !?! Four twi-presidents......spent time with them all Wierwille Martindale Rivenbark JYDL Four Weekends.......we were nearing the precipice of the third. Four Guys in a mile relay.....maybe, I'll drink beer the rest of the night and let my high school memories carry me away..........

The more I think about it.......personal extrication from a cult is like 100 times harder than "vehicle extrication." ......deep, penetrating, emotional anguish, turmoil, guilt, shame, fear, rolling in and out, rippling into your kids, etc. etc. etc. ......fears, hurts, confusion, past/present/future, for God, abandoning God......etc.

The more I think about my personal & family extrication from the cult......I almost feel like closing shop and ending the story here. ugh

Pause to explain: There are so many ways to explain "extrication" that someone could come up with a whole series of links or psychological diagrams to explain it. Here at GSC......I'm not sure I've ever read a personal point-by-point detailed explanation on "extricating oneself from a cult." I think DWBH covered some of his experience in his audio interview with Pawtucket years ago. Extrication from a cult is a grueling, arduous, dismantling process:...........ie. doctrine, relationships, emotions, connections, memories, associations, etc. Perhaps, a similar comparison is: divorce.....married 33 yrs, kids, home, investments, rt funds, ------ separating it out, two people moving away from each other Vehicle extrication Extraction -- (chemistry) Extrication from a cult is EXTREMELY COMPLICATED. The longer one is in Involvement level Associations, relationships, memories, emotions, The longer one's in.....more ties cut from family, friends, neighborhoods, networks. And.......I haven't really even gone into a deep dive of thinking about this. The extrication process of getting out.......much harder than getting in..... (think--car accident & then, extrication) Extrication is different than extraction. Extrication.....releasing or disentangle from a net (web).

Yeah.......give me some time to dive deep into this abyss and see what I find. I'm sure DWBH and krys would have plenty to say about their own "extrication" turmoil.

There is still more to come........."the other bookend" ......the 2-hour confrontation with the region coordinators ......the grueling emotional agony of extricating ourselves from this cult ......the haunting turbulence of the past (1981 -- captivity) mixing with the present (1998 -- extrication) ......different sets of circumstances.....different sets of anguish ......OMG, why am I even going into this dark cavern to share this damn story, anyways?

Part VII Sprinting Thru The Finish One of the golden nuggets I pocketed thru the years came early in my life from my track coach. I had spent my junior year of high school on the golf squad, but decided to "run track" my final year. Team sports were my true passion, but thought I'd give this a shot....what the hell, I'd be graduating in three months anyways. The practice sessions were grueling, getting into shape, stretch exercises and running sprints. But as the competition meets fast approached, the focus got more intense each day. On this particular day, the coach told me to go to the 220 yd (200m) starting blocks with the others....and he'd time us. With the sound of a whistle we shot out of those blocks, sprinting around the curve and gutted for the finish. Many of us literally stumbling across the finish mark. As we caught our breath, the coach walked briskly to us, "You don't just run to the finish line, you run thru it!" From May to August, the limb coordinators and corps, those who were left, were assigned to help oversee four weekends of martindale's new wap-advanced class.....the culmination of a series that was two years in the making. These weekends would be synchronized across the country in succession......no advanced class grad would learn these truths ahead of the others. Everyone had been processed thru the other classes and the upgrades to live in this new prevailing promised land....and now, this would be the final bridge. It was as if every corps and every advanced class grad were summoned to the track, to cheer on this running of martindale's summit noblesse. Unbeknownst to my wife and me, our four final months in twi were stretching out before us as we rounded the curve. Like running track, the specifics that whisked by had little meaning. My focus was on staying in my lane and rounding the curve......intense, laser-focus. All my life I'd been running.....I loved it as a child when we played "tag" at recess. At night, on the farm we had this game called "flashlight tag." Two teams with like 3-4 in each group and everyone had a flashlight.....one group had to count down from 30, facing away with eyes closed while the other group ran out into the dark, to hide behind buildings, haystacks, farm implements, fence rows, etc. Then, the search group had to find each one in the dark and "put them in prison"......a big round diameter by the pole light. Once caught, you had to stay in that "circular prison" until you were "tagged out" (and free to run and escape into the dark) by another in your group. If everyone was caught and put in the circle, the game was over. And, the game started anew.....the "chased" were now the "searchers." Perhaps, those childhood games had some meaning throughout the longevity of life. Running was everywhere. Nearly every team sport imaginable (except golf), involves running.......football, basketball, soccer, volleyball (not so much), but still....lots of sports. Fans seem to like it as well. Otherwise, what's the point? Sure, there's blocking, tackling, throwing precision passes, and spectacular catches.....but the fundament reality of running makes the game move. Heck, I'd even taken an interest in distance running for a couple of years. Twenty-six miles is a long way to run. Many have written books about those adventures of 26.2 miles of brutal pavement-pounding. Some go on for decades dedicated to a world of running marathons....adorning their offices and dens with pictures, medals, achievements and stories. Running was everything to them. I found myself running to serve, running classes in six different states and in canada. What had I accomplished? Should I adorn my life and memories with those achievements.....commending myself for perseverance? I think not. It filled much of my life with activity, but what was I accomplishing? I guess I'd been running all my life. Maybe....it was time to stop? Those last four months in twi, I could fill in plenty of details....but it will always be the people that I remember the most. Not the grouping and herd-labeling of names....ie. corps grad, corps alumni, adv class grad, or the more poignant labeling like "active corps, dfac (dropped from active corps), or any grouping of the cult hierarchy.....but individuals whose lives ebbed and flowed with the realities of life. We were connected to their struggles, their families, helped them load moving trucks, waved as they drove away and yes, cried together at the funerals. We were connected. Yes, it was a cult......but we were on the same ship, much by happenstance moving thru the night. If "brevity is the soul of wit".......then I'd better be closing in on the finish line. I've had my time in the sunlight, to share my story......and all of you have been so supportive, understanding and gracious, standing alongside the track while I've run this leg of my race. Your support summons other memories. My senior year of high school, the mile relay was my favorite......four guys, four laps. Each one in my memory, each had his own lap to run.......1) Mark S., 2) Skyrider, 3) Allen T. and 4) Kent K. The uniqueness with each is a connective-ness of memories that only I hold: Mark --- ran the first leg. Born on the exact same day as me in 1954. He died 9 years ago from a heart condition. Skyrider -- got baton, ran second leg. Headed off to college, twi, and hopefully I have a few more years left to live. Allen -- third leg. My best friend. Before going to the navy, he took me to a missionary and, I believe, I was "born again." Kent --- brought the baton home. He & I lived together for a couple of months while we pondered our ways forward after high school. I went off to college and he went back to the farm. He became incredibly successful -- 2 homes, corvettes and "car drag racing" is still his passion. Again......connectivity. The happenstance of life; the intertwining of circumstances. At points, there's connection....at other points, not. I've run my race thru life and I'm still running. The words of my track coach I still hear......"You don't just run to the finish line, you run thru it." Running with all of you GSC-posters has been a treasure-trove of memories as well. Many of you I hardly know.....yet, we're connected. We had traveled on the same ship and now.....gone on to live our lives. The internet gives us connectivity.....and I'll forever be thankful for that. Otherwise, how would I hear your stories, your viewpoints, your convictions and humor? And, I envy so many of you who have a much greater command of computer skills than I do. I'm still inept at so many things.....still recovering from detours and wrong exit ramps. Sometimes, late at night, I still find myself running into the dark.....wondering who's around the corner to catch me and "take me to prison." But when the day dawns, I'll start running again...... ~~~~~~~~~~~ Next: Part VIII The Two Bookends

T-Bone.......could you make sure that authorization comes with top-security specifications for laser-guided missiles to directly fire on cult puppeteers only? Perhaps, using "eyes in the sky" ----- the drones?

Tomorrow's Release: Part VII Sprinting Thru The Finish ~~~~~~~~~~~ See you tomorrow.

Insert: If I could go back to the beginning of this thread, part 1 of my "book" would be...... We Thought We Were Free *From the book "They Thought They Were Free (the Germans 1933-45)" by Milton Mayer. "Each step was so small, so inconsequential, so well explained, or on occasion, 'regretted,' that unless one were detached from the whole process from the beginning, unless one understood what the whole thing was in principle, what all these 'little measures' that no 'patriotic German' could resent must some day lead to, one no more saw it developing from day to day than a farmer in his field see the corn growing. One day it is over his head." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Still Contemplating The "Book" Title: And yes, I'm shamelessly milking this for all it's worth. This will never see a publisher's desk. LOL

You Guys are killing me here............LOL

Concluding Paragraph of Cost-Cutting Policies This one is too-rich to pass up.....otherwise, I'd skip it. The drudgery of looking thru this puppeteer policy paper is downright nauseating, but here is one last snippet: "If Way Corps are not energized ministers then they should not be salaried by The Way International. That's stealing." Now hold on one dad-gum minute.......I thought martindale's "revelation" to put all field corps on full-time salaried staff was from God? The corps were trained to be leaders, right? The corps were trained to be God's best, right? The corps were the "spiritual marine corps" dr. wierwille envisioned and trained.....handing down these secret truths to the next generation, those martindale had trained, right? So........was it revelation or not? Martindale blamed the corps. The conclusion of the whole matter.........started with an IF. I Never Thought Corps Were "Spiritual Marines" There is no way that I would try and dissect the whole background of this "spiritual marine corps" version that blathered forth from wierwille. But for many reasons, it had/has entered that cult lexicon and corps-bots ever since its narcissistic inception laid claim to a nametag. Suffice it to say, I was not one of them. I was known to carry the cult mantle on many things, but not this one. Twi has no rights even to use the "corps" terminology. The essence of the word, as I understand it, is an organized unit of the military. The men and women of the military who serve, and veterans who served honorably, have my utmost respect. Four years ago, I was given this book as a birthday gift.....and now, pass it on to you The Things They Carried. An awesome read.