In the military, my SQT was 100, but in the real world, my IQ is 85.

I are smart, so I don't understand it.

Okay let me back track a little here, SGT P. J.Elmer, CBR (NBC) NCO at HHC and I were teamed up on a 90mm Recoiless, and I as a Sp/4 humped the 90mm. Like good troopers going to the field we had gone out in Mainz the night before and got tanked. PJ had gone home with a girl and I staggered back to Lee Barracks and seemed like I was in my room for about 5 mikes when I heard First Call. I went and drew my weapon and looked for PJ but couldn't find him. Went to A Company for formation, still no PJ so when they called SGT Elmer, I sort of slurrred a here. We broke formation and I headed back to HHC and about halfway there her comes PJ. He's got one of those sheep skin things, (Bola I think)) that you can drink from dangling from around his neck. I'm 5'11" and PJ was shorter, good stocky Irish-American. So here we are loading the 130 when this AF MAJ spots us and PJ with the Bola and me behind PJ with the 90mm across my shoulder. The MAJ says "Hey Sarge what's in the Bola?" PJ says "A little vino for meno sir!" Uncorks the bola extends his arms and squirts a stream of wine into his mouth. He looks over his shoulder and says "You want a hit?" I say "Damn skippy" hey aims it over his head and squirts, I'm trying to catch the wine looking like tose dogs on AFV chasing a garden hose water stream, wind going everywhere. The MAJ justs shakes his head and says "You guys are crazy!" We being good troopers think this is a real compliment and grin saying "Airborne, sir!"

Okay back to Italy, the Italians troops came by and I started whipping out a salute and said "Damn how many Generals they got here?" everybody had a star on their collar.

We get to Camp Darby and we were put into a fenced in compound off of main post which if I remember is a campground/picnic area. Anyhow the wonderful 11th QM was there with a weapons van, GPs with cots and mosquito netting and even a shower tent, damn! Only time I ever had that in the field.

Okay we are up for our PT run so off to main post we run and aas we pass one of the buildings a leg hollars Airborne sucks, etc, etc. Well just happens to be a NCO in the barracks that had at one time been on jump status so he "invites" this puke to join our run. Don't think he even made a full mile when over to the road he goes and I think some of the troopers that passed introduced him to their Jump Boots!

While there Darby the AYA had a carnival come on post. They had a shooting gallery and if you put out the flame on the candle you'd win a bottle of some sort of wine. PJ and I were smoking that candle and loading up on bottles of whatever. I had bottles stuffed into my field pants, inside my shirt and we come up on out PL. He looks at me and shakes his head and says to PJ, "SGT Elmer for God's sake don't let him fall down because there wouldn't be enough cat-gut in Italy to sew him up!"

The MAJ that was in charge of the AP arranged for us to go to the Med for a day and also to go to Pisa so we could see the Leaning Tower.

We had 22:00 curfew and one night six of us went to the flick and we didn't get out of the flick until 22:10. We started walking towards one of the gates and up ahead we can see the Gate Guards looking our way and see them looking at each other probably trying to figure out who we were. PJ lines us up and we start the "shuffle" with him calling low cadences, when we got to the gate we never got challenged, they just waved us through and down the road we went. We got back to the compound, found a good spot to dig under the fence and we made it back to our tents with no problems!

Okay you guys are probably getting bored I'll have to tell about the jump, doing the Manual of Arms with the 90mm and going on alert from the field next chapter.

Liked the pictures, outfits are great!

"American Parachutists...devils in baggy pants...are less than 100 meters from my outpost line. I can't sleep at night; they pop up from nowhere and we never know when or how they will strike next. Seems like the black-hearted devils are everywhere..."
(An entry in a German officer's diary found after the Battle of Anzio)

The boss fancies himself a fine golfer.  I cannot drink around him as I turn from squared away college boy Lieutenant into hard-charger drunken ultimate fighter Paratrooper guy...no booze means my golf game sucks...the boss's game looks OUTSTANDING next to my game and I get cheese points for stinking the course up!  Next time you want some career progression, let the old man win a few games....either that or get a hooker to drive around in the beer cart and service him in the woods while you roll tape...

The real secret to the golf thing is that the water obstacles usually are packed with HUGE fish!  I always have the following in my golf bag:  Driver, sand wedge, 5 iron, putter, bug spray, sun lotion, bottle of scotch, fishing pole....

Do you listen to yourself when you talk; or do you just fade in and out?

I'm Surprised Panama's still sea level, after all the Push Ups I did down there.