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Well, of course.  They didn't want any rational thoughts in your head when you jump . . . OUT OF A PERFECTLY GOOD AIRPLANE !!! Heh. :) Jim

No.  Except for the GI-mangled Vietnamese phrases and general background, the experiences are an amalgam of stories told to me by warrant officers I served with in the Chinook company I was in and related to me by other VN veterans.  And I never drank any Ba Moi Ba.  Us REMFs usually had...

Some of you may know an old cavalryman, or a WW2 cannoneer, or maybe a Korean War infantryman. If so, you can relate. ******************************* Cavalryman's Lament "We turned in our horses in forty-two." He sighed and ordered more Ba Moi Ba, one for each of us, which seemed damn...

Jeez -- I guess I'm not as far gone as I feared. Army.ca is NOT my homepage.  Yet. But I have been hiding links to it under innocent looking icons.  Is that something I should worry about? :) jim

Bruce -- no problem.  I have a bathroom remodel I can't put off much longer.  My wife isn't going to buy my excuses much longer. :( jim

recceguy -- It will have to be cyber beer for now, man.  If you ever get down to Colorado, I'll make it a real beer. Your choice of beers, of course.  I don't inflict my plebian tastes (MGD - it's cheap and effective) on others. Seadog -- I've written over a million words in straight fiction...

Hmm.  Nary a response. Is straight fiction not something you lads want to see? If not, then I'll stick with the occasional forum tale.  Jim

Quick correction: the top gunner on a B-17 was the 'crew chief', not 'flight engineer'.  I've corrected the text in my files, but I'm too lazy to fix the material I posted.  Heh.  :) jim

I'm not sure if having your wife read them is a good idea, Mike. Every few paragraphs she'll shove the text in your faces and say, "See!  I KNEW you were doping off when my (mother comes to visit -- I send you to the store -- etc)." Few wives understand the need for a colorful imaginary life...

I don't really mind missing out on Army.ca once in a while.  Heck, after a few days the night sweats and trembling goes away. It's not a problem . . . . really. :0 jim

Red 6 makes the same argument I do.  The draft is politically unworkable and a dip into reserves is the correct way to deal with present imbalances in force structure.  Otherwise, why would we even bother with maintaining (however poorly) an IRR pool?  Besides that, an army of draftees is not...

Nice try, Bo.  I don't know who you are, but Ahmadinejad has said time and again he wants the "destruction and downfall" of Israel.  So have other prominent Iranian speakers. It took me five minutes of Internet searching and a few minutes of reading to find no less than three examples. ...

Raid on Nemesis Across occupied western Europe, in darkened rooms, German controllers watched streams of British bombers closing on their nightly targets.  France and southern Germany had clear skies.  A bank of low clouds covered most of the North Sea and inland, cloaking Belgium, the...

Fickle Finger of Fate "But, sir . . ."  Captain Doone stopped to clear his throat.  He didn't want to sound whiny.  "Sir, I finished my 25th mission today.  I'm going home." The immaculate colonel, a stranger to Doone, spoke up for the first time.  "I wasn't aware the war revolved around the...

Captain Doone "I can't keep you off flying status," said the flight surgeon.  "You're forehead is healed and you've had a week to recover from that last mission.  You were damn lucky on that one.  I can't keep a man off flight duties just because he thinks his luck has run out." "Why not?"...

I thought I'd post a serious work of fiction for a change. The story will be posted in four parts. *********************************** HOSTAGE TO FORTUNE JR Hume Orphan Ice Box, a B-17G Flying Fortress, and Lieutenant Doone's temporary command, made it to Bremen unscathed.  Black...

Ch 13 -- Dead Horse Bar & Grill OSS Agent Majoor stepped through the front door and froze.  He'd never seen the Dead Horse so filled with people.  Sailors, U-boat crewmen from the look of them, crowded the bar and congregated around most of the tables.  Save one. Inspector Infidel raised a...

Ch 10 -- Vichy Police HQ, Sainte Poutine A silent police corporal led agent Majoor past a dour-faced desk sergeant and into the bowels of Sainte Poutine Vichy Police HQ.  The corporal stopped at an open office door, rapped on the frame, and motioned Majoor inside, all without uttering a sound...

Ch 7 -- Secret Airbase #9, Northern Brazil Sergeant Infanteer was already soaked with sweat when he stepped out of the steaming interior of the converted B-18.  He blinked and shaded his eyes.  Heat radiated off the tarmac.  A fetid odor wafted across the airfield and mixed with the smell of...

Ch 4 -- Dead Horse Bar & Grill, Sainte Poutine, Guadeloupe OSS agent Majoor paused, cigarette in one hand, burning match in the other.  The background buzz of conversation faded away.  Someone uttered a soft curse and scurried out the back way. Inspector Infidel stood inside the front door and...