Ft. Hood... its not Hell... but you can see the gates from there. I always despised excessive duty time. Not saying I disliked the job.. just wanted to split it into reasonable chunks of time.
I hear you. At Ft. Riley, Home of the Big Red One, if you were in the barracks oh, say 4 hours after your 24 hr duty, they'd roust you out & off to the motor pool. I'd grown up on Army bases, and pointed out the long-standing tradition of having the next day off, at which point I was told "we only have to give you four hours off, now get your ass to the motor pool".
Gosh, why don't more guys re-enlist?
So, after that I kept a sleeping bag, clothes, potatoes & onions, mess-kit, fishing rod in my truck and as soon as I turned in the keys I went straight to the truck & off to the lake. The back side of Milford lake, on a peninsula that you could observe the bridge that anyone would have to cross to get to where you were.
Sure enough, here comes a familiar blue IROC, and Robinson, the loader on my tank, is showing Sgt. Leonard where I fish. Backed the truck up to the top of the hill and put my camoflaging skills to work, knowing I had at least 15 minutes before they'd get to where I was. I could hear them talking as they went by, "Where the hell is he, Robinson? You just brought me out here joy-riding, didn't you? I've got something special for you when we get back!"
Laughed my ass off. Back at the barracks, I couldn't help but ask Robinson (who was covered in mud & oil, very unusual for him) "So, you and Sgt. Leonard have a good time 'joy-riding' today?" Made my night.
WARNING: The above post may contain thoughts or ideas known to the State of Caliphornia to cause seething rage, confusion, distemper, nausea, perspiration, sphincter release, or cranial implosion to persons who implicitly trust only one news source, or find themselves at either the left or right political extreme. Proceed at your own risk.
"If you do not read the newspapers you're uninformed. If you do read the newspapers, you're misinformed." -- Mark Twain
Comments
Gosh, why don't more guys re-enlist?
So, after that I kept a sleeping bag, clothes, potatoes & onions, mess-kit, fishing rod in my truck and as soon as I turned in the keys I went straight to the truck & off to the lake. The back side of Milford lake, on a peninsula that you could observe the bridge that anyone would have to cross to get to where you were.
Sure enough, here comes a familiar blue IROC, and Robinson, the loader on my tank, is showing Sgt. Leonard where I fish. Backed the truck up to the top of the hill and put my camoflaging skills to work, knowing I had at least 15 minutes before they'd get to where I was. I could hear them talking as they went by, "Where the hell is he, Robinson? You just brought me out here joy-riding, didn't you? I've got something special for you when we get back!"
Laughed my ass off.
Back at the barracks, I couldn't help but ask Robinson (who was covered in mud & oil, very unusual for him) "So, you and Sgt. Leonard have a good time 'joy-riding' today?"
Made my night.
"If you do not read the newspapers you're uninformed. If you do read the newspapers, you're misinformed." -- Mark Twain