Military Time – Guns and Fun Times

The Real Story of My Life and More...

I guarded many briefings, eyes watching, ears listening. They weren’t teaching War college, they were applying. Moving battalions, a division. I was busy, moving..but learned a little. Army just refined and added to what Dad started and they gave me a PC in 85 then sent me to Radar school in Alabama since I got injured and had to be Reclassified, Out of Combat Arms to Combat Support. Medical Review board asked the important thing. Healed from the HALO. Do you want to stay in? Hell Ya! I said and did about 4 more years.

4/69 Armoured Battalion, 8th Infantry Division Germany 1981-4.

In 1981, Germany, Army was 78% black. I was already weird, before wearing a HALO. In uniform for 6 months, working light duty. The first 2 months was 6 weeks in hospital, 2 out then start moving which include P.T. Physical Therapy or physical training. I always worked and worked out by working. Never lifted like “Jocks”. Unless you a 16 lbs “Sledge”. By 15, I could make it move even got into competitions. Busting up sidewalks, starting at the opposite ends, dust to the middle against men all summer. Couldn’t play football, coach asked had to work, wrestled Varsity every year till dad died. 

Biologically tried hard to be what I was meant 2 B. Physically, still OK. Officially, Legally, OK. Physiologically, “A work in Progress: As we are all!”. My head in strange way but ok. HALO was bad stuff, not fun. My doc, Air Force major asked me tti give hope. Young girl, paraplegic, same break, same HALO. I was so changed after talking tti her. Couldn’t meet again and never asked, broke my heart. 

We didn’t make funny videos nor have fancy medicine or tech 40 years ago even. This was my life. Divorced, all the strippers were my buddies. I escorted them and closed the bar until my divorce was finalize and the Army replaced me same year, Christmas 2. I hadn’t drank in at least 6 years, not a drop. There have been several periods of my life I didn’t drink. 5, 18, 3, sometimes I drank too much Mea Culpa years at a time.

I won’t even try to think of the pressure President Trump endures. Enlisted, as a Specialist Rank, it was tough being a Squad Leader and Assistant Platoon Leader. No Hard Stripes. Soldiers are supposed to be hard. Same Boot Camp. Same Indoctrination and more to earn Technical Mastery I’d a subject or subjects. Education is like the Proverbial “Sword of Damocles”. Damocles is a figure featured in a single moral anecdote commonly referred to as “the Sword of Damocles,” an allusion to the imminent an ever-present peril faced by those in positions of power. Damocles was an obsequious courtier in the court of Dionysius II of Syracuse, a 4th century BC tyrant of Syracuse, Sicily. Our equipment was WWII or Vietnam Era at best. As I exited Service, I saw M1 Abrams Parade into the 194th Armored Brigade. But it was headed into the heart of Fort Knox. Tanker Country. Amour training for our nation. Maybe that’s why we keep all Gold Reserves there! My first MOS. Military Occupational Specialty. Got 3, at least with qualifiers that means extras. 

The way I thought of seeing early German dawn in winter’s coming was holding the line.  One morning in particular is etched forever. The forestry was about 4 or 6 football fields down a gentle slope from our camp. I alone dressed for the freezing cold outside our tents to answer Nature’s call. Like a scene I visited in the many museums of Germany and Belgium. I saw, sky, treetops, and a beautiful fog settling into a morning mist. Into the Earth, gravity draws all. A giant buck peeked out, a perfect morning.

Vitesse et Puissance – Speed and Power, the panther was a common tattoo.