Some time ago I got a bit tired of the Infantry thingee and decide
there were better things in army life so I decided to enter the missile
field. A BIG fookin booboo.

I soon tired of the of the non-soldier life on a Nike missile site and walked
into the orderly room one fine afternoon and told the First Sergeant (who I
ranked, by the way) to un-ass the seat. I was his new First Sergeant. The
battery commander was astounded at my action but I quickly informed him I was
the ranking enlisted man in his unit. Soon after, my brother Gerald returned
from a tour in Germany with the 11th Abn Div and visited. He wore a sharp TW
uniform, brass and jump boots shined to a high gloss and amazed the asses I
was attempting to make soldiers of. Now they saw there were two of us so they
became the minority.

Well, to make a short story longer, I instituted morning PT and required, as
was the norm in Airborne units, for those living off post to attend our
sessions and I gave the PT. I was in exceptional physical condition having
just left an Airborne unit but brought them on slowly. But not slow enough. I
was soon called in to speak with the group commander and given the group
headquarters company where I did the same fookin thing. Luckily It wasn't
long before a small article in Army Times told of an outfit called Special
Forces and I was, thank you, out of that Mickey Mouse crap and back with
soldiers. True soldiers.

Let's hear it for PT!

Flaherty