BRAD'S EDITORIAL
MENTAL AMERICA;
NOT QUITE ENOUGH INGREDIENTS TO BE A KILLER
PART Four: Only A Temporary Change Of Heart
AUTHORED BY: BRADLEY CHAPLINE
WITH ASSISTANCE FROM MICHELE CHAPLINE
NOVEMBER 2018
Disclaimer: While all accounts in these editorials are true to the best of my knowledge and recollections, there are possibilities that events, times and dates are skewed because of the extreme passage of time.
Part Four - Only A Temporary Change Of Heart
This time, I just knew I was going to follow through on the people I wanted to murder in what I called "Operation Maryland Massacre". I had all the elements. No one would have ever expected me to come from as far away as the state of Hawaii to carry out this heinous act of an impending blood bath in Baltimore, Maryland.
But now, I had the aura for it. Because, this time, life had truly lost all meaning for me.
My trolling phase of the Maryland Massacre operation was completed. I knew exactly who I was going to kill, how I was going to kill them, and probably the exact time and place that all these murders would take place.
There would be no wooing phase in this killing operation. My presence, and therefore, my attacks would come as a complete surprise to every one of my victims.
There would be no capture phase in this operation. Shoot to kill each one and leaving them in a pool of their own blood to die was my absolute goal.
My murdering phase would be completed as expeditiously as possible. I didn't want any of my victims to have any chances of survival. Additionally, my hate was so great for each one of my potential victims, I was not about to afford them not one more second of life, even if they were to spend it feeling the effects of suffering and torture.
I had assumed that authorities could very well have a fix on my location before I had a chance to complete my killing operation. However, if I would have been lucky enough to finish Operation Maryland Massacre, and be sly enough to escape authorities, I would have wanted to keep newspaper articles on this occurrence as my own personal souvenirs.
It was very important to me that my killing operation be carried out exactly as planned. For, I wanted peak personal satisfaction. A climax of sorts. I certainly did not want to fail in any portion in carrying out Operation Maryland Massacre. Failure, in the highest degree for me, would have been the loss of innocent bystanders.
Now, aside from those chances that I was to take on collateral damage, I still would chart this day of killing my enemies as a happy day. A day which would have no place for moments of failure and or severe depression episodes.
But, during the coming months, some amazingly good things had happened to me in Hawaii. I had met my second wife. I could tell, this time, my selection would be the right one. I had told her everything about my past. That is, with the exception of "Operation Maryland Massacre".
Additionally, while I knew I had no chance of being a General's aide, I decided to apply anyway for the position of Secretary to the Commanding General at the Kaneohe Marine Corps Air Station. I also applied to be the Assistant Regional Director of Prisoner Security for the Far East region. There was a joke going around my unit that the betting odds of me getting either one of these positions would be astronomical. For, I too thought it was a prank when the Commanding General's office called to inform me that out of over three hundred applicants, I was the one selected to be the General's new secretary.
And then, during a private sit-down conversation with the General, he also appointed me as the Assistant Regional Director of Prisoner Security. The General made quite clear that he admired my stance on reporting the misconduct of the Captain of my ship during the Vietnamese refugee incident.
For once, I thought I had it made.
But, this was short lived. Just a couple of months later the General's coveted gold metal for Marine tactics was taken away from him. It was discovered that I had a hand in this cheating scandal.
If this was not enough, not more than a week after this, a high level maximum security prisoner had escaped from two of my guards. It made the local news. The General was disgraced, and I was relieved of all of my duties from the General's office.
While my son being born in the midst of all this was a joyous day for me, a heavy cloud was still hanging over my head, again.
I decided to finish out my contract obligation with the Marine Corps and then, try again, to become a civilian.
But, I wasn't worried, just yet. The knowledge, experience and training I had as an Assistant Regional Director made me eligible for a lateral transfer into the U.S. Marshal's Office.
But, little did I know that Marine authorities had already blackballed me from joining the U.S. Marshal's team. Now, I was going back into a severe depression.
The dangers of my hate towards others and my mental illness was taking root all over again. Somehow, once again, I could feel it all evolving inside of me.
This time, I just knew I was going to follow through on the people I wanted to murder in what I called "Operation Maryland Massacre". I had all the elements. No one would have ever expected me to come from as far away as the state of Hawaii to carry out this heinous act of an impending blood bath in Baltimore, Maryland.
But now, I had the aura for it. Because, this time, life had truly lost all meaning for me.
My trolling phase of the Maryland Massacre operation was completed. I knew exactly who I was going to kill, how I was going to kill them, and probably the exact time and place that all these murders would take place.
There would be no wooing phase in this killing operation. My presence, and therefore, my attacks would come as a complete surprise to every one of my victims.
There would be no capture phase in this operation. Shoot to kill each one and leaving them in a pool of their own blood to die was my absolute goal.
My murdering phase would be completed as expeditiously as possible. I didn't want any of my victims to have any chances of survival. Additionally, my hate was so great for each one of my potential victims, I was not about to afford them not one more second of life, even if they were to spend it feeling the effects of suffering and torture.
I had assumed that authorities could very well have a fix on my location before I had a chance to complete my killing operation. However, if I would have been lucky enough to finish Operation Maryland Massacre, and be sly enough to escape authorities, I would have wanted to keep newspaper articles on this occurrence as my own personal souvenirs.
It was very important to me that my killing operation be carried out exactly as planned. For, I wanted peak personal satisfaction. A climax of sorts. I certainly did not want to fail in any portion in carrying out Operation Maryland Massacre. Failure, in the highest degree for me, would have been the loss of innocent bystanders.
Now, aside from those chances that I was to take on collateral damage, I still would chart this day of killing my enemies as a happy day. A day which would have no place for moments of failure and or severe depression episodes.
But, during the coming months, some amazingly good things had happened to me in Hawaii. I had met my second wife. I could tell, this time, my selection would be the right one. I had told her everything about my past. That is, with the exception of "Operation Maryland Massacre".
Additionally, while I knew I had no chance of being a General's aide, I decided to apply anyway for the position of Secretary to the Commanding General at the Kaneohe Marine Corps Air Station. I also applied to be the Assistant Regional Director of Prisoner Security for the Far East region. There was a joke going around my unit that the betting odds of me getting either one of these positions would be astronomical. For, I too thought it was a prank when the Commanding General's office called to inform me that out of over three hundred applicants, I was the one selected to be the General's new secretary.
And then, during a private sit-down conversation with the General, he also appointed me as the Assistant Regional Director of Prisoner Security. The General made quite clear that he admired my stance on reporting the misconduct of the Captain of my ship during the Vietnamese refugee incident.
For once, I thought I had it made.
But, this was short lived. Just a couple of months later the General's coveted gold metal for Marine tactics was taken away from him. It was discovered that I had a hand in this cheating scandal.
If this was not enough, not more than a week after this, a high level maximum security prisoner had escaped from two of my guards. It made the local news. The General was disgraced, and I was relieved of all of my duties from the General's office.
While my son being born in the midst of all this was a joyous day for me, a heavy cloud was still hanging over my head, again.
I decided to finish out my contract obligation with the Marine Corps and then, try again, to become a civilian.
But, I wasn't worried, just yet. The knowledge, experience and training I had as an Assistant Regional Director made me eligible for a lateral transfer into the U.S. Marshal's Office.
But, little did I know that Marine authorities had already blackballed me from joining the U.S. Marshal's team. Now, I was going back into a severe depression.
The dangers of my hate towards others and my mental illness was taking root all over again. Somehow, once again, I could feel it all evolving inside of me.
Continue On To Part Five
www.bradleychapline.com/part-five---psychogenic-explosions-meltdowns-and-plots.html