Pappy's right Yvsa, you'd fit right in. I like (love) my beer, but only in moderation, don't care much for drunks or drunkenness, doesn't speak well for a man's self control. Stories, on the other hand, I can't get enough of. Like the time one of my troops was attacked by a bear (I know, here we go again).
No kidding, we were way out in the hills and trees on a field exercise. Around dusk dark, one of the boys came sprinting through camp screaming at the top of his lungs that a bear was after him. I caught hold of him and tried to calm him down and get him to tell me what happened. He said, "S-S-Sarge, I went out past that little grove of trees to take a leak, looked up and this thing was coming towards me. It was horrible, all huge and covered with fur". I told him, "calm down son, you're safe now, think real hard about what that there bear looked like and see if you can remember anything odd about it". "Odd, odd like what?". " Like did that bear by any chance have horns on his head?". "Now that you mention it, it did have horns, that's weird ain't it?...........uhhhh..........oh..........aw crap". "That's right son, you were just attacked by a future Big Mac". (city fellers are an endless source of amusement for me out in the woods)
Don't get me started or I'll tell about the giant "Ghost Armadillo" that gave some mech infantry boys out of 2/5 Cav a really bad day.
Good googelly moogelly, can't wait 'til Saturday. I'll be standing at the door of the gun show at 0900 hrs sharp. I'll be the guy with the bad hair cut.
Sarge
