Quote:
Originally Posted by jt-3d
I was Army but I don't normally engage in inter-service rivalry as there's enough losers inside one's own branch to keep one entertained for a lifetime. Nevertheless, that was very funny, I don't care who you are...except maybe if you're a Marine.
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Well, I grew up with a man who spent twelve years in the Infantry, six of those mechanized, in Germany. On the dedecated night shift. Sadly we lost him some three years ago, due to a motorcycle accident. (Though the "barbershop" crowd is hinting at murder. They might try to run their case past some actual critical thinkers first.)
If any of you all served under a Sargent Tony Rios, later Toscano, in Germany, he is gone. He enlisted with his stepfather's last name, then changed it to his mother's maiden name. His reason's.
He told of the time one of his men, through a serious break down of procedure, led to the repremand of several of his favorite soldiers. They were doing a huge set of field manuevers. They had all returned to thier laager and were securing their vehicles when he called up to one of his men, a man I heard about in card and letter for years, who was a British national in the US Army, whether or not the 50 had been unloaded and secured.
"Yes, Sargent Rios!"
Then he squeezed the triggers and fired a round of fifty into the bivouac area.
A loud boom, a clang, a whine. Then all the lights on that side of the laagar went out.
Now it wasn't really his fault, he just pressed the trigger. My friend Tony would say this poor Brit was always a lightening rod for this kind of thing. It wasn't his fault, there should have been two inspections to the weapon, done by other people, prior, that should have confirmed it was empty. Including a rod with a measured stop inserted down the barrel to absolutely be sure. It had "passed" THAT test. The poor British kid was just there.
Let's follow this round, shall we?
Of course it's got to go into the officers mess tent and smack into that huge four bank coffee pot. Lengthwise.
And you don't have to be JayUtah to figure out that that much kinetic energy striking a thin skinned vessal full of fifty gallons of hot liquid in an enclosed space is going to be attention getting. Of course the round didn't stop there.
Now at the time Tony told me this man's title but I forget and don't want to mis-speak. But he was the senior enlisted man in this excercise. It hit his cot which had his sleeping bag on it. It tore the bag in half lengthwise AND did the same to two whole cartons of Marlbaros. Both cartons cut lengthwise like on a bandsaw. (Which after everything boiled down was the only redress he ordered of the British kid. Two cartons of smokes)
The bullet finally stopped in a big towed diesel generator. Killed it deader than dog poop. Had a major melt down after it was struck as it was generating at the time.
So Tony's favorite E-4, (the rod inspector), became his favorite E-3. Some scalliwags painted a big coffee pot (with steaming stick figures running from it) and a generator on the shielding next to the gun.