Times of honor, courage, singular moments & impossible feats.

[Ghostrider 67]

Obviously, there's no heroism or valor in my story, but when I was laid up in the hospital for 8 days in agony, that was a personal milestone for me at that time.

It's not always about heroism, or valor. It's most often about the indomitable human spirit and how we overcome things to forge ahead rather than give up.

 

[Ghostrider 67]

Those who have lived their lives free of the need to survive the worst that life has to offer are the lucky ones. Never wish that you would be forced to do the impossible or make decisions that affect life and limb. Be glad for your ordinariness.

 

[68gtxman]

I was on a bivouac at Ft Dix. It poured rain on us for the whole week (temperatures in the 40s and 50s) and our mock base was constantly being attacked. I was a young captain at the time and I was charged with constructing three guard bunkers that were 3/4ths buried and covered with three rows of sand bags. I had three crews to do this (they were all chosen by our major). One crew had no carpenters assigned to it. Each crew was given a single page blueprint and it was drawn incorrectly, with the roof Timbers shown lying on their wide edges. The other two crews had carpenters on them, so they knew the roof Timbers must be laid with the narrow ends on the walls, so they could take the load of the sandbags. As I rotated around the three crews, my one crew laid the roof Timbers the wrong way while I was away and they started laying the sandbags on it. As they finished laying the first sandbag row, a bad sag could be seen from the underside of the roof. Just as I was trying to figure out how to fix this without undoing too much of their work, our major came by to look at it. He yelled at the TSGT leading that crew that their bunker was a POS and for them to tear it down. Well, due to the stress, lost sleep, the constant attacks and their set up for failure (due to the poor blueprint), the TSGT lost it. As the major walked away, the TSGT grabbed a shovel and ran up behind the major. As he began his shovel swing to hit the major in the head, I finally reached him in time to grab the end of his swinging shovel, before it hit the idiot major. The major never knew that he was about to be bonged by a madman. The TSGT was about twice my size and mad as hell. I didn’t physically restrain him, but he knew that I had his back, so he just let the major walk away from that point. When we got back to the bunker, The Whole crew was pissed about the major’s comments and they thought that I should’ve let the TSGT hit the major (it would have likely landed him in prison). After I calmed them down a bit, we figured out a way to keep from needing to tear down the bunker (we added underside mid-beams and a center column). The TSGT later came to me in private to thank me for saving his butt. I was glad that I was able to save this awesome NCO from some terrible repercussions that surely would have resulted. The major never found out how close he was to serious injuries or death. I learned that as an officer, you can’t just go pushing men up to or beyond their breaking point and expect them to act civilly. That bivouac strained all of us to close to the breaking point. Freezing, sleep deprived, hungry and being tired all worked to destroy reasoned thought and civility. I also learned how not to be a jerk in command. That major likely would someday be fragged by his own men (I hope not).

 

[Ghostrider 67]

I was on a bivouac at Ft Dix. It poured rain on us for the whole week (temperatures in the 40s and 50s) and our mock base was constantly being attacked. I was a young captain at the time and I was charged with constructing three guard bunkers that were 3/4ths buried and covered with three rows of sand bags. I had three crews to do this (they were all chosen by our major). One crew had no carpenters assigned to it. Each crew was given a single page blueprint and it was drawn incorrectly, with the roof Timbers shown lying on their wide edges. The other two crews had carpenters on them, so they knew the roof Timbers must be laid with the narrow ends on the walls, so they could take the load of the sandbags. As I rotated around the three crews, my one crew laid the roof Timbers the wrong way while I was away and they started laying the sandbags on it. As they finished laying the first sandbag row, a bad sag could be seen from the underside of the roof. Just as I was trying to figure out how to fix this without undoing too much of their work, our major came by to look at it. He yelled at the TSGT leading that crew that their bunker was a POS and for them to tear it down. Well, due to the stress, lost sleep, the constant attacks and their set up for failure (due to the poor blueprint), the TSGT lost it. As the major walked away, the TSGT grabbed a shovel and ran up behind the major. As he began his shovel swing to hit the major in the head, I finally reached him in time to grab the end of his swinging shovel, before it hit the idiot major. The major never knew that he was about to be bonged by a madman. The TSGT was about twice my size and mad as hell. I didn’t physically restrain him, but he knew that I had his back, so he just let the major walk away from that point. When we got back to the bunker, The Whole crew was pissed about the major’s comments and they thought that I should’ve let the TSGT hit the major (it would have likely landed him in prison). After I calmed them down a bit, we figured out a way to keep from needing to tear down the bunker (we added underside mid-beams and a center column). The TSGT later came to me in private to thank me for saving his butt. I was glad that I was able to save this awesome NCO from some terrible repercussions that surely would have resulted. The major never found out how close he was to serious injuries or death. I learned that as an officer, you can’t just go pushing men up to or beyond their breaking point and expect them to act civilly. That bivouac strained all of us to close to the breaking point. Freezing, sleep deprived, hungry and being tired all worked to destroy reasoned thought and civility. I also learned how not to be a jerk in command. That major likely would someday be fragged by his own men (I hope not).

Butterfly wings. The one small act done in anonymity has repercussions going forward, like ripples in a pond. How many lives, besides yours and the TSGT's were impacted by that moment? What would the future's of all involved and the downstream people too, have looked like if you had not acted? Great story.

 

[Hey-O]

Nothing in my life but bless, it's been a walk in the park.

 

[Ghostrider 67]

Thinking about these types of things brings to mind the existence, or not, of a " Multiverse". Every second of every day 9 billion humans make decisions that affect the course of lives, theirs and others. The timeline they are in at those moments is forever altered by each decision. The timeline going forward would have looked different had they made a different decision and every downstream event would be further altered. Do THOSE timelines exist? Is this what Deja-Vu is? Our vestigial consciousness of events in a parallel timeline? The feeling of " Having done that, or experienced that", before?
How about if the comets/asteroids had NOT hit the planet around 12,500 BC and the great flood and subsequent Ice Age not happened? What would our world look like today?
What if we had not cracked the Enigma Code in WW2? If the Germans had learned of the D Day plans in advance? So much of what we know as "The Future" rests on ordinary acts of random people. Our existence is so dependent upon forces that we cannot control.

 

[Ghostrider 67]

Nothing in my life but bless, it's been a walk in the park.

I'm glad for you, my friend. Seriously.

 

[Hey-O]

I'm glad for you, my friend. Seriously.

You know better, everyone's had their day. There are many different forms of trials and tribulations. I've hurt people, been hurt, saved people and been saved. If you live long enough you can't help but be touched by the good and bad in this world. Unfortunately and fortunately, is all part of the journey.

 

[Ghostrider 67]

I had a 'singular moment' back in 1989. I had just survived Hurricane Hugo. What a monster storm that was! I lived on Wadmalaw Island at the time. This island was then a farming community, many vegetables were grown there commercially, lots of 'truck farms'. I lived on the backside of a huge veggie farm along an intercoastal waterway. Many of the farms and residences were the same, with LONG driveways through farmland and homes at the rear of the property. After the storm had passed and we began the cleanup there were many people trapped on their property. There were thousands of trees down across access roads and driveways and no way to get to folks short of a chopper. The fellow who owned the veggie farm behind which I lived gave me permission to operate his giant farm tractors. I used them to drag trees away and cross ruined land more easily. These were huge all-wheel drive tractors that towed 50-foot-wide harrows across fields. There was a day where I, and a slapped together crew of neighbors and utter strangers were trying to clear a driveway that was nearly a half mile long and choked with debris and trees. Suddenly there appeared behind us an ambulance trying to come up the road. The driver ran up to me and jumped up and shouted that the elderly woman who lived there had had an accident and was badly injured, and could I possibly get through the debris and trees with the tractor? I looked at the mess and replied that I really didn't know but that I was willing to try. He came back in a jiffy with cases and an EMT dude and climbed aboard. We went four wheeling. It was touch and go and I almost got stuck several times. What a ride. We got in there, we were banged up from jouncing around in the cab, but the EMT was able to stabilize her and call for an evac by air. I began to clear the drive from the other end and we got it open in no time.
Days later an old man showed up on my property and shouted outside my tent. " Anybody home?"
I went out and he burst into tears. Hugged me while whimpering. I was like. "Who is this cat?"
He collected himself and told me that he was the lady's husband, who had not been at home when she injured herself. He said that the doctor told him she would have not made it had she been not gotten help when she did. He maintained that she. and he, owed her life to me. He went on to say they had been married since 1941, the day after Pearl Harbor was attacked. He was a WW2 vet, and she had been a USO girl. They had 9 children and 23 grandchildren and 6 great grandchildren. He said that so many lives would of been irreversibly changed had I not done what I did. I thanked him for saying so but told him that it was pure chance that I was there that day and, in a position, to help. I was supposed to be at another location entirely.
He asked me how it was going for me after the Hurricane and why was I living in a tent?
I told him that my entire house had blown away along with every tree on the property and all of the water out of my one-acre pond and the cement dock too. I had lost everything.
He looked at me in wonder and said, " All of that tragedy and you still go out every day and work yourself into the ground helping strangers? Son.....you were born in the wrong generation. I'm proud to have met you."
The next day a truck showed up out of the blue towing an "Airstream " travel trailer. There was a note on the door telling me that they had sent it for my use for as long as I needed it and that the thing was stocked with food and water. Great old couple. They don't make them like that anymore.
It was a singular moment for me that I will always remember. It renewed my faith in my fellow man.

 

[Dan64]

I had a 'singular moment' back in 1989. I had just survived Hurricane Hugo. What a monster storm that was! I lived on Wadmalaw Island at the time. This island was then a farming community, many vegetables were grown there commercially, lots of 'truck farms'. I lived on the backside of a huge veggie farm along an intercoastal waterway. Many of the farms and residences were the same, with LONG driveways through farmland and homes at the rear of the property. After the storm had passed and we began the cleanup there were many people trapped on their property. There were thousands of trees down across access roads and driveways and no way to get to folks short of a chopper. The fellow who owned the veggie farm behind which I lived gave me permission to operate his giant farm tractors. I used them to drag trees away and cross ruined land more easily. These were huge all-wheel drive tractors that towed 50-foot-wide harrows across fields. There was a day where I, and a slapped together crew of neighbors and utter strangers were trying to clear a driveway that was nearly a half mile long and choked with debris and trees. Suddenly there appeared behind us an ambulance trying to come up the road. The driver ran up to me and jumped up and shouted that the elderly woman who lived there had had an accident and was badly injured, and could I possibly get through the debris and trees with the tractor? I looked at the mess and replied that I really didn't know but that I was willing to try. He came back in a jiffy with cases and an EMT dude and climbed aboard. We went four wheeling. It was touch and go and I almost got stuck several times. What a ride. We got in there, we were banged up from jouncing around in the cab, but the EMT was able to stabilize her and call for an evac by air. I began to clear the drive from the other end and we got it open in no time.
Days later an old man showed up on my property and shouted outside my tent. " Anybody home?"
I went out and he burst into tears. Hugged me while whimpering. I was like. "Who is this cat?"
He collected himself and told me that he was the lady's husband, who had not been at home when she injured herself. He said that the doctor told him she would have not made it had she been not gotten help when she did. He maintained that she. and he, owed her life to me. He went on to say they had been married since 1941, the day after Pearl Harbor was attacked. He was a WW2 vet, and she had been a USO girl. They had 9 children and 23 grandchildren and 6 great grandchildren. He said that so many lives would of been irreversibly changed had I not done what I did. I thanked him for saying so but told him that it was pure chance that I was there that day and, in a position, to help. I was supposed to be at another location entirely.
He asked me how it was going for me after the Hurricane and why was I living in a tent?
I told him that my entire house had blown away along with every tree on the property and all of the water out of my one-acre pond and the cement dock too. I had lost everything.
He looked at me in wonder and said, " All of that tragedy and you still go out every day and work yourself into the ground helping strangers? Son.....you were born in the wrong generation. I'm proud to have met you."
The next day a truck showed up out of the blue towing an "Airstream " travel trailer. There was a note on the door telling me that they had sent it for my use for as long as I needed it and that the thing was stocked with food and water. Great old couple. They don't make them like that anymore.
It was a singular moment for me that I will always remember. It renewed my faith in my fellow man.

Awesome

 

[HawkRod]

Ghost....This is a deep topic.
I scrolled by this one a few times because I don't think that I have anything worthy to contribute.
That hasn't stopped me before so **** it...
I served in the Army but was discharged on a medical before completing basic training so no...I never saw any military action.
I don't work in any Police, Fire, EMT or other type of service so I never have saved a life or taken one.
I have been in a few car accidents but never seriously hurt. I've seen an air bag deploy right before my eyes and walked away with only a headache. I've never lost control of a car at high speed. Never fallen from a great height, never been shot, never stabbed. I've never had to rescue a family member from an abusive situation.
It would be hard to call me a hero because I've never done anything that you'd typically call heroic.
I have had a yearning for many years to encounter a situation of importance and suddenly rise to the occasion.
I do simple stuff often.
Today I stopped in traffic to drag a broken pole from the roadway so nobody else would run over it.
I've stopped to help change tires. I stopped to help a buddy who fell asleep on the way home from work and rolled his truck. That guy had a LOT of tools and nails and everything was scattered across 6 lanes of the freeway.
One day I may have a great story where I saved someone.

Well said Kern - I feel the same as you. I am not a hero. I haven't served in the armed forces and I haven't saved people while risking life and limb. I have a deep and profound respect for our men and women who are or have served.
I do try to make the world a better place when I can and help people in need if I can. Even a smile and a friendly hello can change someone's day sometimes.

To my personal low. In 2001, I had pioneering hip surgery at the Hospital for Special Surgery in NY City. I was the first person in the USA to have this surgery; only a couple people in Switzerland had had it before I did. (My surgery had no nurses, as it was filled with other surgeons to learn and see what this doctor from Switzerland did. The surgery was filmed and photographed, and subsequently was presented throughout the USA in conferences.) Basically, they cut into my hip, popped the femur out of the socket and reshaped the bones - quite literally with what looked like a shiny Craftsman hammer and chisel! So from a healing perspective, it was much worse than a hip replacement, since all my own tissue went back in after it got beat up with hammers, chisels and saws!

Anyway, the surgery was late in the day on a Wednesday, and throughout the night I was in recovery. By Thursday morning, I was awake and the nurses told me I could push a button to inject pain killers. I didn't push the button. Later, they removed the IV drip and came with some strong pain killer pills to give me. I declined. I wasn't trying to be a hero, I simply told them my pain was manageable and I would ask for pain killers if I needed them. Well, shortly thereafter a physical therapist came to see me (I swear some of them are a bit sadistic!). She sat me up in the bed (remember this moves the femur in the hip socket), grabbed my legs, turned me sideways in the bed and let my feet drop down off the side of the bed. I quite literally passed out from the pain and fell sideways into the bed.

I was laying in bed in a quasi state of consciousness. Not quite unconscious but in a foggy, dark in-between world. While in this state, a big, heavy woman orderly shows up and roughly/ efficiently proceeds to bathe me with a sponge (including in all private areas). She also changed the sheets in the bed while I was laying in it by rolling me from one side to another. I was struggling to even stay conscious, and totally unable to do anything other than lay there and be subjected to this. Yes, she was just doing her job but I felt violated somehow. And it pissed me off that I was unable to even do anything about it. I thought: "I am getting the f*** out of here."

As soon as I regained full consciousness, I pushed the call button and requested the pain pills. The physical therapist came back at noon to check on me. I told her about going home the next day (Friday), and she laughed and said no way. I would be lucky to get out Sunday or Monday. I asked why and she said I had to pass a number of tests to get discharged. This included lots of physical things as well as, like RC's story, taking a dump. She said she would be back Friday morning and we would start on the exercises; I told her to be ready with everything. The rest of Thursday I did mini chin ups with a bar that was above my bed, trying to get my heart rate up. I took pain meds. Yes, I took a dump too. The next morning, I did ALL the physical tests. Walking with crutches up and down stairs, etc. I wanted the hell out of there and she reluctantly signed me off on all the exercises. My wife came late that afternoon and picked me up from the hospital and I went home. In retrospect, I went home too early and I suffered some from that. I had over a foot long incision that had been stapled shut. But I was home and in the care of my wonderful wife - not some cold, efficient orderly!

Anyway - I'm sure others have experienced way worse, but this is my little tale of woe...

 

[Fran Blacker]

Gasoline vapors and flame.

Getting cooked is the worst. Screwing with a leaking tube of plastic glue. Got it on my the back of my fingers and managed to light it off. If didn't go out easily. Second degree burns on Thanksgiving morning went over well.

 

[Fran Blacker]

Well said Kern - I feel the same as you. I am not a hero. I haven't served in the armed forces and I haven't saved people while risking life and limb. I have a deep and profound respect for our men and women who are or have served.
I do try to make the world a better place when I can and help people in need if I can. Even a smile and a friendly hello can change someone's day sometimes.

To my personal low. In 2001, I had pioneering hip surgery at the Hospital for Special Surgery in NY City. I was the first person in the USA to have this surgery; only a couple people in Switzerland had had it before I did. (My surgery had no nurses, as it was filled with other surgeons to learn and see what this doctor from Switzerland did. The surgery was filmed and photographed, and subsequently was presented throughout the USA in conferences.) Basically, they cut into my hip, popped the femur out of the socket and reshaped the bones - quite literally with what looked like a shiny Craftsman hammer and chisel! So from a healing perspective, it was much worse than a hip replacement, since all my own tissue went back in after it got beat up with hammers, chisels and saws!

Anyway, the surgery was late in the day on a Wednesday, and throughout the night I was in recovery. By Thursday morning, I was awake and the nurses told me I could push a button to inject pain killers. I didn't push the button. Later, they removed the IV drip and came with some strong pain killer pills to give me. I declined. I wasn't trying to be a hero, I simply told them my pain was manageable and I would ask for pain killers if I needed them. Well, shortly thereafter a physical therapist came to see me (I swear some of them are a bit sadistic!). She sat me up in the bed (remember this moves the femur in the hip socket), grabbed my legs, turned me sideways in the bed and let my feet drop down off the side of the bed. I quite literally passed out from the pain and fell sideways into the bed.

I was laying in bed in a quasi state of consciousness. Not quite unconscious but in a foggy, dark in-between world. While in this state, a big, heavy woman orderly shows up and roughly/ efficiently proceeds to bathe me with a sponge (including in all private areas). She also changed the sheets in the bed while I was laying in it by rolling me from one side to another. I was struggling to even stay conscious, and totally unable to do anything other than lay there and be subjected to this. Yes, she was just doing her job but I felt violated somehow. And it pissed me off that I was unable to even do anything about it. I thought: "I am getting the f*** out of here."

As soon as I regained full consciousness, I pushed the call button and requested the pain pills. The physical therapist came back at noon to check on me. I told her about going home the next day (Friday), and she laughed and said no way. I would be lucky to get out Sunday or Monday. I asked why and she said I had to pass a number of tests to get discharged. This included lots of physical things as well as, like RC's story, taking a dump. She said she would be back Friday morning and we would start on the exercises; I told her to be ready with everything. The rest of Thursday I did mini chin ups with a bar that was above my bed, trying to get my heart rate up. I took pain meds. Yes, I took a dump too. The next morning, I did ALL the physical tests. Walking with crutches up and down stairs, etc. I wanted the hell out of there and she reluctantly signed me off on all the exercises. My wife came late that afternoon and picked me up from the hospital and I went home. In retrospect, I went home too early and I suffered some from that. I had over a foot long incision that had been stapled shut. But I was home and in the care of my wonderful wife - not some cold, efficient orderly!

Anyway - I'm sure others have experienced way worse, but this is my little tale of woe...

Had knees replaced and Physical Therapy was called Pain And Torture. No fun but needed.

 

[MO.RR]

You made a conscious effort to stop and help people. Not everyone does that. I would say that certainly qualifies.

I have valor awards from being overseas but I’m to a point in my life I’d rather be known for lending a hand when I can or just trying to make a conscious effort to be nice to people at least once.

 

[Richard Cranium]

Getting cooked is the worst. Screwing with a leaking tube of plastic glue. Got it on my the back of my fingers and managed to light it off. If didn't go out easily. Second degree burns on Thanksgiving morning went over well.

Like this....

 

[Scott Engelhardt]

25 years ago when I was getting started with Hunter Engineering. I was in St Louis for 9 weeks. Living at the airport Marriott. Middle of July my girlfriend and I were sitting out by the pool reading, this little kid goes running by us and jumps in the pool followed by this huge man. I watched them for a minute before I figured out neither could swim. In the pool I went, I tossed the little boy to my girlfriend then tossed the big dude out of the pool. It happened so fast. I was sitting in a chair toweling off and trying to figure out in my mind the event that just took place. The manager of the hotel came to the pool and was upset that I went in the pool after them. I couldn't figure out why he was so upset. The father and son were at a family reunion, so there must have been 30 or 40 people that thanked me throughout that day. Sometimes you just react without a thought.

 

[Ghostrider 67]

Well said Kern - I feel the same as you. I am not a hero. I haven't served in the armed forces and I haven't saved people while risking life and limb. I have a deep and profound respect for our men and women who are or have served.
I do try to make the world a better place when I can and help people in need if I can. Even a smile and a friendly hello can change someone's day sometimes.

To my personal low. In 2001, I had pioneering hip surgery at the Hospital for Special Surgery in NY City. I was the first person in the USA to have this surgery; only a couple people in Switzerland had had it before I did. (My surgery had no nurses, as it was filled with other surgeons to learn and see what this doctor from Switzerland did. The surgery was filmed and photographed, and subsequently was presented throughout the USA in conferences.) Basically, they cut into my hip, popped the femur out of the socket and reshaped the bones - quite literally with what looked like a shiny Craftsman hammer and chisel! So from a healing perspective, it was much worse than a hip replacement, since all my own tissue went back in after it got beat up with hammers, chisels and saws!

Anyway, the surgery was late in the day on a Wednesday, and throughout the night I was in recovery. By Thursday morning, I was awake and the nurses told me I could push a button to inject pain killers. I didn't push the button. Later, they removed the IV drip and came with some strong pain killer pills to give me. I declined. I wasn't trying to be a hero, I simply told them my pain was manageable and I would ask for pain killers if I needed them. Well, shortly thereafter a physical therapist came to see me (I swear some of them are a bit sadistic!). She sat me up in the bed (remember this moves the femur in the hip socket), grabbed my legs, turned me sideways in the bed and let my feet drop down off the side of the bed. I quite literally passed out from the pain and fell sideways into the bed.

I was laying in bed in a quasi state of consciousness. Not quite unconscious but in a foggy, dark in-between world. While in this state, a big, heavy woman orderly shows up and roughly/ efficiently proceeds to bathe me with a sponge (including in all private areas). She also changed the sheets in the bed while I was laying in it by rolling me from one side to another. I was struggling to even stay conscious, and totally unable to do anything other than lay there and be subjected to this. Yes, she was just doing her job but I felt violated somehow. And it pissed me off that I was unable to even do anything about it. I thought: "I am getting the f*** out of here."

As soon as I regained full consciousness, I pushed the call button and requested the pain pills. The physical therapist came back at noon to check on me. I told her about going home the next day (Friday), and she laughed and said no way. I would be lucky to get out Sunday or Monday. I asked why and she said I had to pass a number of tests to get discharged. This included lots of physical things as well as, like RC's story, taking a dump. She said she would be back Friday morning and we would start on the exercises; I told her to be ready with everything. The rest of Thursday I did mini chin ups with a bar that was above my bed, trying to get my heart rate up. I took pain meds. Yes, I took a dump too. The next morning, I did ALL the physical tests. Walking with crutches up and down stairs, etc. I wanted the hell out of there and she reluctantly signed me off on all the exercises. My wife came late that afternoon and picked me up from the hospital and I went home. In retrospect, I went home too early and I suffered some from that. I had over a foot long incision that had been stapled shut. But I was home and in the care of my wonderful wife - not some cold, efficient orderly!

Anyway - I'm sure others have experienced way worse, but this is my little tale of woe...

Wow, what an experience! Some people shouldn't be in the care giving business at all. Yes, moving your bowels is a must do before they will let you go home. When I totaled my Harley i woke up 4 1/2 hours later in the hospital and had a catheter inserted in my magic wand. After talking to me for a few minutes the doc told the nurse to remove it. She flipped up my little gown and went to work, no screen, no asking if she could handle my unit, she just grabbed on and removed it. At least she smiled...lol. Great story...

 

[oldbee]

Wow, what an experience! Some people shouldn't be in the care giving business at all. Yes, moving your bowels is a must do before they will let you go home. When I totaled my Harley i woke up 4 1/2 hours later in the hospital and had a catheter inserted in my magic wand. After talking to me for a few minutes the doc told the nurse to remove it. She flipped up my little gown and went to work, no screen, no asking if she could handle my unit, she just grabbed on and removed it. At least she smiled...lol. Great story...

From what I've heard, neither insertion/removal is fun!!!!

 

[Cranky]

Sounds like every veteran that I have been blessed to know

Oh man, even tho I didn't see combat while in the military, the military was like being in a 'small war' of sorts and that's what many of us called it.....even guys that had been in combat zones said the same thing. We were all in 'a war' of some kind starting with basic training and I have to admit, basic wasn't all that bad to me even though many thought it was and I was in the AF!! Geez. Move your *** through the mine field and I won't punch your dumb *** in the *** to make you move so I'll quit hearing the charges go off! lol.

Gasoline vapors and flame.

Thought my shop was going to go up in flames one day when a car I was working on caught fire under the carport that was out back of my shop. Just as I was starting to lose hope and call the fire department, I got things under control....

I was on a bivouac at Ft Dix. It poured rain on us for the whole week (temperatures in the 40s and 50s) and our mock base was constantly being attacked. I was a young captain at the time and I was charged with constructing three guard bunkers that were 3/4ths buried and covered with three rows of sand bags. I had three crews to do this (they were all chosen by our major). One crew had no carpenters assigned to it. Each crew was given a single page blueprint and it was drawn incorrectly, with the roof Timbers shown lying on their wide edges. The other two crews had carpenters on them, so they knew the roof Timbers must be laid with the narrow ends on the walls, so they could take the load of the sandbags. As I rotated around the three crews, my one crew laid the roof Timbers the wrong way while I was away and they started laying the sandbags on it. As they finished laying the first sandbag row, a bad sag could be seen from the underside of the roof. Just as I was trying to figure out how to fix this without undoing too much of their work, our major came by to look at it. He yelled at the TSGT leading that crew that their bunker was a POS and for them to tear it down. Well, due to the stress, lost sleep, the constant attacks and their set up for failure (due to the poor blueprint), the TSGT lost it. As the major walked away, the TSGT grabbed a shovel and ran up behind the major. As he began his shovel swing to hit the major in the head, I finally reached him in time to grab the end of his swinging shovel, before it hit the idiot major. The major never knew that he was about to be bonged by a madman. The TSGT was about twice my size and mad as hell. I didn’t physically restrain him, but he knew that I had his back, so he just let the major walk away from that point. When we got back to the bunker, The Whole crew was pissed about the major’s comments and they thought that I should’ve let the TSGT hit the major (it would have likely landed him in prison). After I calmed them down a bit, we figured out a way to keep from needing to tear down the bunker (we added underside mid-beams and a center column). The TSGT later came to me in private to thank me for saving his butt. I was glad that I was able to save this awesome NCO from some terrible repercussions that surely would have resulted. The major never found out how close he was to serious injuries or death. I learned that as an officer, you can’t just go pushing men up to or beyond their breaking point and expect them to act civilly. That bivouac strained all of us to close to the breaking point. Freezing, sleep deprived, hungry and being tired all worked to destroy reasoned thought and civility. I also learned how not to be a jerk in command. That major likely would someday be fragged by his own men (I hope not).

This reminds me of a stoopidvisor at a steel mill where I worked right after getting out of the military that was like the Major you mentioned. He was chewing out my butt for little of nothing and another employee was coming up behind him with a shovel. This guy was a total tyrant but when this guy with the shovel came up, I glanced over the tyrant's shoulder and he picked up on it and moved to the side. No shovel swing and I'm glad of that because I didn't want to be a part of that. I knew the guy with the shovel and he said he was only trying to scare him and well, he did that! Scared me too. On the other hand, the tyrant calmed down a bit.

Nothing in my life but bless, it's been a walk in the park.

Well, I think my life has been.....not bad And feel blessed.

What if you as a parent buy your kid a car and they cause a fatal accident. Should you be prosecuted for murder? You bought the car so you're guilty right?

Depends on how the car is used. Fatal 'accident' or something that was done with malice......?

 

[1STMP]

At 66, instances are too numerous to go into in
any great detail. I'm thankful I'm still
breathing.