again with the usual purges-destroying all the clothing I had, then going out several months later and purchasing them all over again. We have all gone through these episodes.

Like many of my "sisters" I put my time in service during WW II some forty-nine months of it. Prior to going into the service I was an athlete, excelling in track, swimming and tennis. I set two records in our mid-west city one for cross-country and one for the half-mile. The former has not yet been broken, and the half-mile record stood for about ten years. Between high school and going into the service (I enlisted) there were occasions when I would wear panties and particu- larly when Christmas or Valentine Day came around. This afforded me the chance to buy the items I desired without causing much suspicion. Some months later after feeling guilty I would purge myself of these items. I concluded, like many of us, that this was just a transitional thing and in time would pass - ha ha. During my tenure of duty, I gave very little thought to the idea of dressing or even wearing panties. However, about a month before I was to receive my discharge in San Francisco, I was returning to the base one rainy evening when I passed an object in the road. As most of my "sisters" who were in the service know, the bases usually were a long walk from the last transportation stop. I had not passed the object by more than three or four strides when it dawned on me that the object must have been a pair of panties. Naturally, I retraced my steps and lo and behold I was right. These were not silk or nylon, but satin. I had never owned a pair of satin ones before and was thrilled. That old feeling came over me, the thrill, the ecstacy and the excited breathing I had experienced as a small boy re- turned. I rang out the panties, put them in my pea jacket pocket and took them to the base. The hour was late, so I laundered them and placed them in my locker to dry. I think you can all realize that there were many times I wore those panties under my uniform even while on the base. Needless to say, if I had been caught, it would have meant an Undesirable Discharge.

I have often wondered if it had not been for the chance finding of those panties that night I might not have become a TV. However, that is merely conjecture on my part, but it is true that for four years of service life the thought of wearing anything of the opposite sex never entered my mind.

After discharge from service and return to my home town, I again have the urge to dress. I still feel this was triggered by my finding those panties prior to discharge. I made the usual purchases and purges. It

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