Speaking of RIMPACS
25 Jan 1972
My Dear O’Don:
Many thanks for your kind letter—which, through curious misdirection, has only just come to hand. Your ‘Nothing Sacred’ issue sounds like a real winner, and I greatly appreciate the generous invitation to contribute. I should be most delighted to do so, but unfortunately have nothing suitable at the mo. The piece I’m presently working on is more or less straight journalism and would hardly suite your purpose—which I presume (correct me if I’m wrong) tilts more towards the ‘satiric’. It is a piece, however, not wholly devoid of interest, and one which might well (and hopefully!) find a place in future pages of your good mag—since, though completely factual, it is not without an element of grim irony. Briefly then, it involves an organization of Vietnam veterans, of which you may or may not have heard (due to its somewhat clandestine nature), most often referred to as “The SGR’. The SGR came into being, evidently, through the preservation and extension (in some cases, elaboration) of certain practices among the older members of a number of specified advanced field-units in the Nam. When these units, or their individual members, returned Stateside, they formed these small, highly secretive, groups, of “sharcoots” as they’re called (in an apparent corruption of the French ‘charcouterie’) and continued the nefarious and ritualized practices evolved in the Nam. The SGR, or “rimmers” as they call themselves less formally, is comprised of normal healthy American lads (or so they would appear) who “got hooked”, as they explain it, on the rather unsavory (in my view) act of “stiff-gook rimming”—i.e., tonguing dead Cong assholes with such incredible fervor and abandon as to finally lose consciousness (and “the gamier, the better” according to them). Michael, you and I do not know each other too well, but I can assure you I am not, I believe, a particularly squeamish person, and yet I must say in all frankness that to witness their dervish-like gluttony when working Cong-rim is a mind-bender of considerable weight. Though developed, as I say, in the paddies of the Nam, they continue to practice this heinous ‘art’—if, indeed, it may be so called—right here in heartland of USA, receiving packages of “cut-outs” as they’re dubbed, straight from the deltas of the Nam, often via ‘Diplomatic Pouch’ (so highly placed are various elements of the membership). Mike, they say the stench of one of these so-called “rim-pacs” has an actual impact that will send an E-meter needle right through the side of the goddam box! Well, anyhoo…if you’d be interested seeing completed piece on the SGR (including action-pix of a fairly compromising nature) please let me know. Meanwhile all best for continued success of your good mag.
[Signed T. Southern]