2003-04-13 11:12 a.m. We had to get the prisoners of war out of the fighting arena for several reasons. 1. They were totally hungry all the time and since they didn't have any fighting to do, they always got to the mess tent first and ate the crunchiest bacon. I've never eaten so much fatty limp bacon as I have since we captured them. 2. They show us pictures of their family and kids all the time, but when we take out our pictures, they act bored and go find something else to do. 3. As our handbooks say, we're supposed to be 200% focused on killing the enemy because that is our job and guts makes the green grass grow and who doesn't like grass? So having enemies around we're not supposed to kill is distracting. I had just finished opening a can of dry rations for Wonderpup, our company's mascot, when I heard some of the prisoners' moon-man jabbering from around past the security tents. Sometimes the rations for Wonderpup are hard to open because you have to insert a key and turn it slowly to peel back the metal and if you twist too fast, the key will break. Then you have to use a knife, or tiny explosive charge, which isn't what they trained you to use them for but you have to be flexible. Oh wait, I was talking about the prisoners. So I got up and went to go see what was happening and Wonderpup came along after me, his lucky ammobelts under his belly dragging rows in the sand. Our C.O. was talking to the prisoners so I walked up and he was saying that we had to send them away from the front for their own protection. The best way to do that would be if they would climb into our standard issue body bags and allow us to zip them up for easy storage. One of them was translating for the others and when he was done, they started yelling and falling to their knees to punch the sand, which our handbooks say is a sign of displeasure in their inferior culture. I stepped in. "Really, it's not that big a deal, fellas. Most of us soldiers were shipped out here in the bags ourselves. I remember mine fondly. Best sleep I've had the whole war. Very roomy." Then, to prove how much we trusted the bags to safely transport their contents, I grabbed Wonderpup and with everyone watching, put him inside a bag and zipped him up. I put a hand up to my ear and made like I was listening really hard. "See? He's not even barking. How bad could it be? I'll even send him with you to prove it's safe and he's our mascot and good luck charm!" Finally, the prisoners were won over and they gathered their stuff and pretty soon our company was busy zipping them all up for the journey. All the black bags except for one were piled up in a truck that then disappeared in a sandy cloud down the road. I ran over and let Wonderpup out of his bag just after the truck started moving out. He looked up at me sadly as he climbed out, but I'm sure I can get him to forgive me. Because the next time I go to the mess tent, I know I'll finally be able to get crisp bacon and Wonderpup can certainly have some. He's a hero. A true hero. |
1. today is nice 3. happy yesterdays 8. thanks for hosting 4. doing other things |
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