About the Author
Gregg is former submarine officer and member of the Navy's Judge Advocate General's Corps. He received a Bachelor of Science degree in Computer Science and Mathematics from Eastern Michigan University; a Juris Doctorate from the Chicago-Kent College of Law, and most recently completed an LL.M. in International Environmental Law at The George Washington University Law School.
Gregg has had the opportunity to travel the world as a member of the United States Navy. In his travels, he saw first-hand how poverty and hopelessness drove many innocents into the commercial sex industry. Gregg felt called to make a difference in the lives of those he encountered. A Few Bad Men is the first step in his quest to help change the lives of others by exposing the appalling sex trafficking industry that has flourished near many of our overseas military bases.
A personal message from Gregg:
In the fall of 1989, while serving onboard the nuclear submarine USS Chicago, I had the dreadful opportunity to visit the Philippines during a western Pacific deployment. I say "dreadful" because the poverty I witnessed in Olongapo, the city surrounding Subic Bay Submarine Base, was both overwhelming and humbling. Prior to that visit, my only exposure to such misery came via books or news media. Yet, I also call it an "opportunity," because for the first time I understood how truly blessed my life was and how lucky I was to live in the United States of America.
Something happened during that visit that haunts me to this day. As my team was returning to our submarine from dinner in a local restaurant, I was approached by a young boy about 12 years old. He was begging for money, as were many other children surrounding the base gate. I remember feeling helpless, knowing that any money I gave him would only provide a temporary respite from his fate. But I still reached for my wallet, wanting to give him something, no matter how insignificant. I found no money, so I instead took off my watch and offered it to him.
He smiled and I turned to leave, but then he tugged at my shirt and, while pointing to a young girl about 14 years old, said, "this is my sister. I sell her to you for tonight." His words hit me like a sledgehammer. For a moment I felt I couldn't speak as tears welled in my eyes. Even when I was giving this young man my watch, even when I thought I understood how desperate these fellow souls were to escape their situation, I had not fully understood. THIS was absolute, devastating suffering.
In the years since, I have encountered similar misery in numerous other countries as I traveled the world in the Navy. In Thailand, where underage girls are "marketed" openly in hotel lobbies to "tourists"; in Vietnam, where millions live in plywood shanties or thatch huts; and most recently in eastern Europe, where vile human traffickers have victimized hundreds of thousands of young women with promises of overseas employment or education.
I have resolved to do anything and everything I can to fight the curse of human trafficking in our world. For this reason I decided to write A Few Bad Men, and I intend to focus my efforts on exposing this evil and lifting as many souls as possible out its clutches.