“Officer Big’un! Please step into my office!”

We were speaking to our youngest child ‘Tiny Dancer’ yesterday. She brought up that when her friends ask what we did for a living, they are always impressed that @The_CINC worked at The Pentagon for 34 years.
Then she tells them, “My dad worked there also, as a Police officer. Then she tells them her favorite ‘Dad Police’ story.

Here ‘tis.

“Officer Big’un! Please step in to my office.”
Uh-oh, evening shift LT at the Pentagon was pissed about something.
I walked into the Shift LT’s office and stood in front of his desk.
“Sir, you rang?”
An arched eyebrow told me he wasn’t amused…
“Did you come into contact with any individuals last night?”
“Last night? Why no sir, I don’t believe I had contact with any outside public last night sir.”
“Well, the EPS shift commander (Executive Protective Service,i.e; uniformed Secret Service) phoned from the White House. It seems they had to take a gentleman into custody last night, that claims he was sent by a large Pentagon Police officer.”
“Oh no sir, I would never do that.”
“Are you positive?”
“Why, yes sir.” I replied

So, it wasn’t last night, it was the night before last…
I didn’t ‘Technically’ tell him to go to the White House.
I was eating my lunch in the Pentagon North Parking area. Specifically the LBJ grove parking area on the Pentagon side of this little muddy inlet. There was a bridge across the inlet to the park proper.
Sitting in the location I was, I was able to observe most of North Parking (pre 9/11, it’s broken up and changed now).
Further I was unobservable from a stop sign nearby.
It was a “Fishin’ hole”, I could get 3-4 tickets just listening to some music.
I observed an erratic gentleman walking through the parking area.
He was wearing winter clothing, in July, in VA…
Not exactly normal for a 90+ degree evening…
Great…
A night full of paperwork for a nut job…
I finished my lunch as I watched him.
This side of the building had the 8th Corridor entrance. A bridge led across RT 110 to the building proper. Part of the bridge’s structure contained a Health club underneath it called The POAAC.
He was headed to the bridge…
Dammit…
I started my cruiser, hit the lights, and hauled ass in his direction.
I was able to cut him off with my cruiser before he made the bridge.
He stopped, looking confused.
I exited the vehicle, lights still flashing.
He wasn’t a large man, maybe 5’7” or 5’8”. I couldn’t tell how large his body was because of the winter clothing. He was even wearing a ski cap.
I walked up to him, he stepped back, with a crinkly sound?
I could see tin foil sticking out of his coat, he literally had on a tinfoil hat under the ski cap.
I stopped, took up my defensive position. Right foot back 45 degrees, thumbs on my Sam Brown buckle.
I looked down at him and asked in a rather deep voice.
“May I assist you sir?”
He looked like a scared calf looking for an escape.
“Um… Ahhh… Yeah… I need to speak to the Secretary of Defense.”
“Really? He’s a very busy man, may I inquire as to the meetings purpose?”
“Spy satellites are shooting rays into my body… I feel like I’m on fire!”
“Really? Well if you really want to get things done you need to go see ‘The Man’ himself.”
“Really? You think so?”
“Oh yes, the SecDef would have to get the President’s permission anyway.”
“Thanks man!”
“No problem sir, glad to be of assistance.”

I did NOT send him to the White House…
I just told him he need to speak to President Reagan. I didn’t specify where…