My Job, My Hell...

Share a personal survival experience with us and explain what you learned from it. You might help someone.

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Laager
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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Thu Aug 09, 2018 12:12 am

emclean wrote:
Sun Aug 05, 2018 8:11 am
Laager wrote:
Sat Aug 04, 2018 5:47 pm
emclean

Dang it......Lil's going to kill me she is off working in Europe for the next two weeks....the last thing she said well almost the last thing other than be safe and she loves me was not to make any major purchases........500.00 isn't major and she never did say what a major purchase was......
just something i do to all my friends, find guns they didn't know they wanted, and point them out

https://www.cdnnsports.com/hk-p30-40s-w ... 2b3PdJKiUk
Chickened out and spent way more money than I had in my allowance fund. I ordered the HK P30 in .40S&W, set up the meeting with the FFL guy and then decided to stop by the gun store. Right there is where I went wrong, I started talking to him about this and that, so I asked him if anything "interesting" had come in lately. He said something to the effect of, you like those German guns don't you...and I had immediate thoughts of a nice Walter P-38 coming out of the gun vault and then he ruined it by telling me that someone had just traded an HK VP9 in 9mm in FDE for a Black Glock G19 Gen 5.

I'd say I was dumbfounded but I guess it is just a case of to each their own or something like that. So for $500.00 out the door I put it on lay a way. I would prefer the 9mm over the .40S&W for her, since she is still pretty young and more than likely she will eventually get either the HK USP or the HK P30 or all three.

It is not like I can really take them all with me, and so far she seems to be what I would consider a good kid. Stays out of trouble, pretty much, studies hard, works hard, practices good firearms handling and more importantly cleans her own firearms after a day at the range or whenever I tell her she needs too. Which is usually before we go shooting and after we go shooting.

I still have dreams of my M16 and how temperatmental the darn thing was.....probably why I like the heavy caliber Battle Rifles. Still I do have some ARs and while I have not had any real issues with them, I do admit to "waiting" for them to have issues and cleaning them every chance I can.
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

Laager
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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Sun Aug 12, 2018 5:04 am

Man I love the Bean Sprout (one of my Granddaughters, in fact the one that has been trying to out maneuver me or maneuver me out of my HK USP), we were sitting over at Junior's place having a burger grill and all the grandchildren and nephews/neices and assorted hanger on's were all hitting the pool and drinking all the cola they could and stuffing chips down their throats.

Anyway a few of us were sitting around one of the patio tables when Lil's mom came over and plopped down at the same table as me. All of a sudden I got that feeling that Will Robinson was in danger and his robot sidekick was going to start screaming "Danger, Will Robinson!"

[YouTube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OWwOJlOI1nU[/YouTube]

Then the surprises just kept coming she actually started to talk to me, and the Robot started waving his arms and repeating the warning as I thought to myself this does not compute. She wants something.

Sure enough after asking me a few general purpose questions, she got down to the point. Flooding in the PI. Oh how sad.

So since Lil was not around, and I looked for Junior, Bec or Sam or any female that had the authority to reign me in and found none to be in the near vicinity I basically told her no. Well maybe not like that, but I said no. Whatever it is you are trying to do, for whatever reason you are trying to do it the answer is now and always no.

She then pointed out that I had just spent an unreasonable amount of money on guns. Now I really can not do her justice as it came out sort of like it was some disgusting vice. You, you, you just spent X,XXX.00 of guuuuuns. People will be suffering from flood damage, someone will have to go to your house and clean it up. Yet here you sit without a care in the world. You should donate some money...

and right there I said not only no but Hades no! I wouldn't give you my last thin dime and then I was fixing to step off into it (cause Lil does not like it when I go off on her Mom, she says just let her ramble on, but well I hate someone who mooches off of me, eats food I pay for, sleeps in a house that I helped pay for, and then she craps all over me and worse Lil, Bec and Sam) when I heard a small female voice tell her.

Lola, he spent his allowance on firearms, Lola Lil says he can spend it on whatever he wants, so he did. Why are you giving him a hard time? Is it because Lola Lil sin't here? What do you think Lola Lil will say when she finds out? So please tell me what is the problem in that?

I looked over to see the Bean Sprout just returned from the pool.

I looked back at Lil's Mom and said...yea Looooowla or should I say impo or lola sa tuhod where's the problem in that? At least I didn't spend my allowance on something useless like makeup. Makeup to try and look younger, it is like putting makeup on a hog, no matter how much you spend or put on, it will always be a hog. Then the Bean Sprout had to go and poke the grizzly bear or in this case the wicked witch of the PI, by ignoring her and giving Mano to me followed up with a Mano Po to the others at the table. Everyone except the old bat.

Then I told the Bean Sprout lets go sneak some Key Lime Pie out of Junior's fridge and we left.

Bec told me I should not have called her a hog....I did not, well okay not like outright to her face as in you are a hog. Although I have called her an old bat in the past, but it is strange that while she was outraged, I say I'm outraged and beyond mad that your husband called me an old bat. I should leave and never come back. To which I yelled please do and I''ll pay your fare. Lil was not amused.

Funny how the old bat seems to spend a lot of her time her at this daughters house, instead of the other two daughter's homes. It could not possibly be that Lil, Bec and Sam all wait on her hand and foot, that she has her own room and a a bathroom she has to share, someone to drive her everywhere, clean up after her, cook her special food dishes and the list goes on.

Man if I could find a run down, disreputable Senior Living Facility someone in the bowels of central or south America I'd pay double. Although I am sure she would hang on just to spite me.

I told the Bean Sprout I'd take the hit for her, but she just laughed and said no, she did the crime, she would do the time. I talked to Bec, Sam and called Lil and talked to her and told them all it was all my fault and if anyone said or did anything to the Bean Sprout it would really, really get ugly at the next family dinner and not in a nice way at all.

Anyway I have a few more stories to tell but right not I have to kick some grandchildren's rear end....it's a sleep over night without the sleep. It's bad enough I had to hide all the permanent magic markers, never be the first one to fall asleep around here.

No one is safe.
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

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Mad Mike
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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Mad Mike » Sun Aug 12, 2018 10:53 am

so how old is Bean Sprout? She sounds mature (and wise) beyond her years.... :lol:

Laager
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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Mon Aug 13, 2018 7:15 pm

Mad Mike wrote:
Sun Aug 12, 2018 10:53 am
so how old is Bean Sprout? She sounds mature (and wise) beyond her years.... :lol:
She is 10 years old and so far so good. I will admit that she is a hand full when she gets started, but I can't fault her for that. She seems to be a good kid going in what I consider the correct direction. Does well in school, listens to her parents and grandparents, does not spend multiple hours with her face and head stuck in a so called smart phone. So like I said seems to be going in what I would consider the correct direction.

I told her I would take the hit and I did. Both my parents as well as Lil do not like anyone talking back to adults. Even if the adult you are talking back to is incorrect or out of line. But I figure it is a good thing to call out stupid people who are obviously out of line or control no matter what age you are.

She is the one that has been begging for an upgrade from .22LR up to 9mm or better. She already has a Rock River AR or MSR and has been snopping around my gun vaults and found an HK that I have had for decades and rarely shoot. But I do not want to get rid of it or give it to her. I would rather move her up to a 9mm it is not as "snappy" as the .40S&W or the 10mm short.

I took the rear end chewing from Lil when she called home, and will continue to take it as long as it pops up.

She is a good kid and oe of the ones I actually do not mind coming over as she is normally very respectfully and helpful both out in my garage/man shed/man cave and in the house with Lil (which I did point out to Lik) but Lil does not like the grandchildren to call BS when they smell it or hear it. Especially since they get it from me and I am not disrepectful to either my parents or Lil's Mother until they start spouting BS. Then figure the gloves are off, so to speak.
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

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Mad Mike
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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Mad Mike » Tue Aug 14, 2018 7:00 pm

Laager wrote:
Mon Aug 13, 2018 7:15 pm
Mad Mike wrote:
Sun Aug 12, 2018 10:53 am
so how old is Bean Sprout? She sounds mature (and wise) beyond her years.... :lol:
She is 10 years old and so far so good. I will admit that she is a hand full when she gets started, but I can't fault her for that. She seems to be a good kid going in what I consider the correct direction. Does well in school, listens to her parents and grandparents, does not spend multiple hours with her face and head stuck in a so called smart phone. So like I said seems to be going in what I would consider the correct direction.

I told her I would take the hit and I did. Both my parents as well as Lil do not like anyone talking back to adults. Even if the adult you are talking back to is incorrect or out of line. But I figure it is a good thing to call out stupid people who are obviously out of line or control no matter what age you are.

She is the one that has been begging for an upgrade from .22LR up to 9mm or better. She already has a Rock River AR or MSR and has been snopping around my gun vaults and found an HK that I have had for decades and rarely shoot. But I do not want to get rid of it or give it to her. I would rather move her up to a 9mm it is not as "snappy" as the .40S&W or the 10mm short.

I took the rear end chewing from Lil when she called home, and will continue to take it as long as it pops up.

She is a good kid and oe of the ones I actually do not mind coming over as she is normally very respectfully and helpful both out in my garage/man shed/man cave and in the house with Lil (which I did point out to Lik) but Lil does not like the grandchildren to call BS when they smell it or hear it. Especially since they get it from me and I am not disrepectful to either my parents or Lil's Mother until they start spouting BS. Then figure the gloves are off, so to speak.

thanks for the reply. I sure hope you 9and others) can keep her on the straight and narrow. :clap:

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Tue Aug 14, 2018 7:53 pm

Mad Mike wrote:
Tue Aug 14, 2018 7:00 pm
Laager wrote:
Mon Aug 13, 2018 7:15 pm
Mad Mike wrote:
Sun Aug 12, 2018 10:53 am
so how old is Bean Sprout? She sounds mature (and wise) beyond her years.... :lol:
She is 10 years old and so far so good. I will admit that she is a hand full when she gets started, but I can't fault her for that. She seems to be a good kid going in what I consider the correct direction. Does well in school, listens to her parents and grandparents, does not spend multiple hours with her face and head stuck in a so called smart phone. So like I said seems to be going in what I would consider the correct direction.

I told her I would take the hit and I did. Both my parents as well as Lil do not like anyone talking back to adults. Even if the adult you are talking back to is incorrect or out of line. But I figure it is a good thing to call out stupid people who are obviously out of line or control no matter what age you are.

She is the one that has been begging for an upgrade from .22LR up to 9mm or better. She already has a Rock River AR or MSR and has been snopping around my gun vaults and found an HK that I have had for decades and rarely shoot. But I do not want to get rid of it or give it to her. I would rather move her up to a 9mm it is not as "snappy" as the .40S&W or the 10mm short.

I took the rear end chewing from Lil when she called home, and will continue to take it as long as it pops up.

She is a good kid and oe of the ones I actually do not mind coming over as she is normally very respectfully and helpful both out in my garage/man shed/man cave and in the house with Lil (which I did point out to Lik) but Lil does not like the grandchildren to call BS when they smell it or hear it. Especially since they get it from me and I am not disrepectful to either my parents or Lil's Mother until they start spouting BS. Then figure the gloves are off, so to speak.

thanks for the reply. I sure hope you 9and others) can keep her on the straight and narrow. :clap:
She is a keeper for sure, I was in my "office" when she knocked on the door and came in to ask me if I would mind picking her up from school, one of the other grandchildren came with her and asked me what "that" was, to which the Bean Sprout said that is a 1908 Colt Model 1903 Pocket Pistol in .32ACP and was bought by my Great-great=great grandfather in 1908. The pocket watch was also bought by him in 1908 and has been handed down to Pops.

I was actually surprised that she had paid attention to things I've told her or let her handle/shoot. I did ask her, "what aren't you going to ask me to give it to you?" to which she added no Lola will kill you when she finds out that you have been eating at Five Guys and getting the double cheeseburger with large fries, so it will be handed down to me next.

To which I replied I can eat what and where I want if Lola isn't around and she told me that was absolutely true just that Five Guys is not authorized. I did point out that her Uncle and her mother were next in line, to which she said neither one is interested in a pocket watch and a .32ACP pistol. I'm guessing that she is interested.

Dang got me again.......first off I would like to know how she or they found out about me hitting Five Guys, I was careful. I paid cash, ate there, parked out of view, did not bring anything back, such as a drink cup or fry cup. I'm check the truck for lowjack or something. It is either that or someone had to have been in Las Cruces and seen me parked there and no one I know of has said anything about going to Cruces.
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

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w3rdtoyamama
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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by w3rdtoyamama » Thu Aug 16, 2018 12:19 pm

Laager wrote:
Tue Aug 14, 2018 7:53 pm
Mad Mike wrote:
Tue Aug 14, 2018 7:00 pm
Laager wrote:
Mon Aug 13, 2018 7:15 pm
Mad Mike wrote:
Sun Aug 12, 2018 10:53 am
so how old is Bean Sprout? She sounds mature (and wise) beyond her years.... :lol:
She is 10 years old and so far so good. I will admit that she is a hand full when she gets started, but I can't fault her for that. She seems to be a good kid going in what I consider the correct direction. Does well in school, listens to her parents and grandparents, does not spend multiple hours with her face and head stuck in a so called smart phone. So like I said seems to be going in what I would consider the correct direction.

I told her I would take the hit and I did. Both my parents as well as Lil do not like anyone talking back to adults. Even if the adult you are talking back to is incorrect or out of line. But I figure it is a good thing to call out stupid people who are obviously out of line or control no matter what age you are.

She is the one that has been begging for an upgrade from .22LR up to 9mm or better. She already has a Rock River AR or MSR and has been snopping around my gun vaults and found an HK that I have had for decades and rarely shoot. But I do not want to get rid of it or give it to her. I would rather move her up to a 9mm it is not as "snappy" as the .40S&W or the 10mm short.

I took the rear end chewing from Lil when she called home, and will continue to take it as long as it pops up.

She is a good kid and oe of the ones I actually do not mind coming over as she is normally very respectfully and helpful both out in my garage/man shed/man cave and in the house with Lil (which I did point out to Lik) but Lil does not like the grandchildren to call BS when they smell it or hear it. Especially since they get it from me and I am not disrepectful to either my parents or Lil's Mother until they start spouting BS. Then figure the gloves are off, so to speak.

thanks for the reply. I sure hope you 9and others) can keep her on the straight and narrow. :clap:
She is a keeper for sure, I was in my "office" when she knocked on the door and came in to ask me if I would mind picking her up from school, one of the other grandchildren came with her and asked me what "that" was, to which the Bean Sprout said that is a 1908 Colt Model 1903 Pocket Pistol in .32ACP and was bought by my Great-great=great grandfather in 1908. The pocket watch was also bought by him in 1908 and has been handed down to Pops.

I was actually surprised that she had paid attention to things I've told her or let her handle/shoot. I did ask her, "what aren't you going to ask me to give it to you?" to which she added no Lola will kill you when she finds out that you have been eating at Five Guys and getting the double cheeseburger with large fries, so it will be handed down to me next.

To which I replied I can eat what and where I want if Lola isn't around and she told me that was absolutely true just that Five Guys is not authorized. I did point out that her Uncle and her mother were next in line, to which she said neither one is interested in a pocket watch and a .32ACP pistol. I'm guessing that she is interested.

Dang got me again.......first off I would like to know how she or they found out about me hitting Five Guys, I was careful. I paid cash, ate there, parked out of view, did not bring anything back, such as a drink cup or fry cup. I'm check the truck for lowjack or something. It is either that or someone had to have been in Las Cruces and seen me parked there and no one I know of has said anything about going to Cruces.
Hahaha thats good. She will be going places in her adult life, thats for sure. Perhaps detective work?
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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Thu Aug 16, 2018 4:02 pm

w3rdtoyamama wrote:
Thu Aug 16, 2018 12:19 pm
Laager wrote:
Tue Aug 14, 2018 7:53 pm
Mad Mike wrote:
Tue Aug 14, 2018 7:00 pm
Laager wrote:
Mon Aug 13, 2018 7:15 pm


Hahaha thats good. She will be going places in her adult life, thats for sure. Perhaps detective work?


I'm not sure what she plans on doing, but if her Great Grandmother, Grandmother and Mother have anything to do with it she will be pushed towards being an nurse. Now that is just what the world needs, another Filipina nurse. I think every Filipina mother wants their daughter to grow up and be a nurse.

Honestly I do not care what she grows up to be, well as long as it isn't something shady or against the law. She did mention going to college, graduating, joining the military as an officer and then coming over to make me salute her. I started laughing, and told her I doubt I'll be around for that, since as she pointed out Lola Lil was going to kill me.

I did tell her that her Silver Dollar salute should rightfully go to the enlisted man/Black Hat (which is or was an Army Instructor and that as far as I knew the Silver Dollar Salute was a Naval tradition. But who knows maybe it has been absorbed into all branches of the U.S. Military. I did point out that if she was planning on doing that, then she should give it some thought as to whom she wants to give her Silver Dollar and to pick out a year that has a special meaning for her or perhaps for the Enlisted Instructor who impressed her the most and give it to him or her.

She then told me she wanted something special to go with the gift I was going to give her for graduation. Like a moron I asked her what gift and when did this gift discussion take place. She told me it was signed, sealed and done by Lola Lil. The gift is a 1908 pocket watch, chain and fob with a 1903 Colt Pocket Hamerless Pistol in .32ACP both the watch and the pistol were bought new in 1908.

I told her if she graduated in the top 10% of her class, that it was a deal, however that included High School, College and whatever Military Branch's Academy she chose to join. What I did not tell her and she will not find out until she opens the box is that it also will include the pocket change my Great Grandfather had in his pocket in 1907 when my grandfather was born and he had some nice coins in his pocket, since he had just gotten paid for two months at one time. Seems the railroad had shipped him up north to Canton and Memphis and his paycheck never caught up to him. But when it did it was already payday again, so he drew two months salary.
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Sat Aug 18, 2018 6:01 am

Things that just pop into my mind at zero dark thirty:

We ended up having to go on a long range patrol, usually these were also not just long range, but long in time as well. No easy in easy out or as the Platoon Sergeant used to say just after a comment that was designed to down play what is now known as "the suck". Easy Peasy Lemon squeezey or if he was called on it, when life gives you lemons, make lemonade. I used to like (and still do for that matter) to poke the bear.

So I'd say something along the lines of if you enjoy the fragrance of a rose, you must accept the thorns which it bears, fragrance is another way of saying smell Sergeant. To which I was usually told to shut up and listen to the briefing. I'd then sometimes point out he was the one interrupting the briefing. Of course he would always look at me and smile when he was really fixing to stick it to us.

It would usually go something like this.....you lucky bast***s have been selected to perform a long range patrol or if we were being briefed by someone from Battalion or even Brigade they left off the cuss words and tossed in a big word like reconnaissance like it would impress us or make us feel special.

You know like you won a prize or something.

We have solid intel on possible enemy troop movements to the north, Humint tells us that there may be a significant threat to the north so we need your squad to go out and find that threat......yada....yada...yada...

Usually boilded down to the guy who cleaned the dishes at the Fire Base Mess Hall told someone he saw someone and boom..away we went.

Anyway I poked the bear once and he looked me in the eye as he smiled and added: "one more thing, you get to take the Second Lieutenant with you as the OIC. Farked again and not in a good way.

Usually a good Second Lieutenant knows that even though he is (usually) a Platoon Leader (Not sure now since it has been awhile but on the books, because we always seemed to be under manned and never at what the TO&E called for, was supposed to be 16 to 40 soldiers plus a platoon sergeant. The platoon sergeant according to the TO&E was supposed to be an E-7 or Sergeant First Class at the time we had a newly minted E-6 or Staff Sergeant. A good Second Lieutenant knew when to keep his mouth shut and when to exert his (slight) authority. The NCO's were the ones who were supposed to step up and train the 2LT in the ways of the world and the how to keep his men alive or not. It all depended on if the 2LT listened and learned. Of course the more senior officers were also supposed to help train him up, but that was all officer country stuff and it depended a lot on if the senior officers liked him or not. Or if he was a ring knocker, if he had a family history of service, etc. To me it was a farking nightmare, and when offered a chance to become an officer I actually threw up at the thought and respectfully declined the offer. Which was from one of the few officers that I really respected. Lieutenant Colonel Jeffery White.

I should also point out that the Platoon Sergeant also acts as the second lieutenant's assistant as needed.

So you can see or possibly see the problem.

One squad in the bush with a 2LT in charge as the OIC. A newly minted one at that, with no senior NCOs to reign him in or act as his Platoon Daddy and raise him right. To make matter worse he was a ring knocker.

Senior NCO or NCOIC was a lowly Corporal. That Corporal was me, trust me when I say I did not get paid enough for that poo and the poo bomb the Sergeant dropped on us that day. Then again sometimes you get the bear and sometimes the bear gets you. In this case clearly the bear won.

Although once when I was called on the carpet by said Bear I did point out that according to what I had learned earlier in Russia being called a Bear or even referred to as a Bear is a good thing. Mainly because they are very strong and dangerous animals, they are big, heavy and are powerful predators. Seeing one especially in the wild will cause you to take a step back and definitely reassess your situation.

I did at one time later on tell him to his face that in fact a Bear is usually a hairy, rude or ill tempered person, who smells bad and that it is also homosexual slang for a hairy male.

He did take his shirt off (not necessary since we all showered together in a group shower. Another words no secrets there for sure) and show us just how hairy he was, and he was hairy. I think he had two coats or two layers of fur, like a Husky.

He was very proud of his Bear like physique to say the least.
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Wed Sep 05, 2018 7:44 pm

Give me a few days and I'll tell you a little bit about one of our Medics. Nicknames in the military are just about mandatory, and usually if you kick up a ruckus you usually end up with that nickname.

Something else, just because you are a medic does not mean that you will be called "Doc", basically being called "Doc" is an earned nickname or at least it used to be.

Of course I have not been AD since 1988 so I am sure somethings have changed and some have not.

Anyway, like I said give me a few days and I'll tell you about Doc Hiccup
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by RickOShea » Wed Sep 05, 2018 8:38 pm

We have a "Doc" on the linecrew, along with a Sparky, Squeaky, Dude, Heavy G, Van, Whiskey, Blister, Dusty, Head, Hunka-Hunka, Lil Bit, Chef, Shade, Polly, Purple, Windy, Razor, Gravy, Boogie, Paco, Rabbit, Fearless, Legend, Deuce, Scuba Steve, Skinny Steve, Yankee Steve, and Stevel Knievel.
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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Mad Mike » Wed Sep 05, 2018 8:58 pm

RickOShea wrote:
Wed Sep 05, 2018 8:38 pm
We have a "Doc" on the linecrew, along with a Sparky, Squeaky, Dude, Heavy G, Van, Whiskey, Blister, Dusty, Head, Hunka-Hunka, Lil Bit, Chef, Shade, Polly, Purple, Windy, Razor, Gravy, Boogie, Paco, Rabbit, Fearless, Legend, Deuce, Scuba Steve, Skinny Steve, Yankee Steve, and Stevel Knievel.

Guess mine wasn't all that inventive - it was "Morri-san" from Morrison hanging out in Japan. :lol:

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Brekar » Fri Sep 07, 2018 12:32 pm

So I spent the first hour of my shift yesterday on lockdown at the railyard due to a reported man with a gun. Nothing like hearing a coworker come over the radio with "yardmaster we have a man with a rifle walking into the west end of the yard".
It ended up being nothing, just a local idiot who thought it would be fun to park next to the tracks in his van and get out to shoot pigeons with a pellet rifle. But it was amazing how fast police responded, both KC police and railroad police. Thats how we found out we have railroad police posing as hobo's wandering the yards... :clap:

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Joined: Sun Jun 20, 2010 9:25 pm

Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Tue Sep 11, 2018 8:33 pm

Mad Mike wrote:
Wed Sep 05, 2018 8:58 pm
RickOShea wrote:
Wed Sep 05, 2018 8:38 pm
We have a "Doc" on the linecrew, along with a Sparky, Squeaky, Dude, Heavy G, Van, Whiskey, Blister, Dusty, Head, Hunka-Hunka, Lil Bit, Chef, Shade, Polly, Purple, Windy, Razor, Gravy, Boogie, Paco, Rabbit, Fearless, Legend, Deuce, Scuba Steve, Skinny Steve, Yankee Steve, and Stevel Knievel.

Guess mine wasn't all that inventive - it was "Morri-san" from Morrison hanging out in Japan. :lol:
I received mine because of James, he showed up for "Family Day" and the NCo's loved him, and then I had my nickname and it pretty much followed me everywhere. Actually it was my parents fault and James just told everyone for a laugh.

But it always could have been worse.....

Like everything the Army has or rather did have a rank structure and even nicknames fell under acceptable usage or rules of use. The accepted usage of nicknames when I was on active duty in my time was that senior ranks could call junior ranks by their nicknames but junior ranks would call seniors by their rank and title. Unless the nickname was a sign of disrespect. Then and only then would we use it against someone of higher rank. Not that it really did anything other than get them to bust our chops, but it showed them how the men actually felt about them.

Lil's son (otherwise known as our son) told me that by not having a "nickname" is considered a form of Bullying, or at the very least a form of social isolation or being an outcast. ALso you can't seem to win, if you have a nickname it can be a form of bullying and if you don't it can be a form of bullying.

We had a few odd ones, Hitter, Stoner, Smokey, Dink, Gasser, Slim, Pounder, Pisser, Jerrycan, Wank, Hero, Tank, Spanky, Checkers, Cards, Orangutan, Dick A and Dick O., BabyFace, (We had a Pvt Warren for awhile, he earned the nickname Bunny and once we had a Leatherman, the LT thought it was because he was as tough as one, but in reality one of the privates came up with it because he was a tool.), Bowser, Ruck, B.C. shortened from Birth Control. Dee-Dee, medium length for Donkey Dick. Moonbeam he did not last long, he kept running around at night with his flashlight on. Swab, Adrift, Cheese (we dropped the "dick" portion and left it at Cheese. Mainly because he couldn't even cheesedick his way through, he barely cheesed it at all. Shitbird, Hound, TIki.

Now I should tell you that way back in the old days there indeed were such things as Buy Me Drink girls or Juicy Girls, underage drinking, underage sex both male and female, smoking of all sorts, drinking of all sorts, hookers of all sorts, massage parlors on post that could include a "happy ending" whisper Alley in Okinawa was a real place. But now with the passage of time, those places and things are fading into memory.
The cry now is no more than two drinks allowed and Human Trafficking.

My son was shocked to hear of some of the stuff that was allowed or the Company Commander and First Sergeants as well as Platoon Leaders and Platoon Sergeants looked the other way as long as you showed up for first formation (PT formation) and did not fall out.
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

Laager
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Posts: 780
Joined: Sun Jun 20, 2010 9:25 pm

Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Thu Sep 20, 2018 10:23 pm

Okay this one is a short one, anytime we were overseas or someone took leave to visit any place in Asia shortly after your return you ended up having to go have your junk checked out.

It did not matter if you said you did not do anything with a female or even a male (some of the women in some of the Asian bars were not men, so you had better check their junk and pay attention to what kind of bar you stumbled into.

So we were getting ready to redeploy back to the real world also known as the Conus or Continental United States. So they sent all of us (except for the Officers) down to the medic station to have our gun tubes checked out. Now I don't know if the Officers and Senior NCOs were gun tubed check, but I darn sure know that a few of them caught something or as a Korean Bar Girl (a Hooker) told me when I first made Corporal and had to escort one of my men down to identify the woman he sleep with "I never gave you anything, you bought and paid for it" or words to that effect.

While we were there we were introduced to our new Medic, he seemed like a good guy but well we never really had very many normal guys. I guess he was working with a PA and they were working on one of the guys foot.

Nothing really interesting was happening and then it when to poo ville. I heard some yelling and thought I should open the door to see what was going on, but I remembered the last time I did I saw Ski beating the heck out of our medic and well his pants were down around his knees and his junk was hanging out with a bore tube sticking out of it. Trust me when I say you did not want to see that.

So I said what the heck, and opened the door. There was the PA, laughing the medic was sitting there on his stool and Pvt Messner was yelling and pointing at his foot. What I gathered was the medic said Pvt Messner would just feel a small stick, yet for some reason the needle was sticking out of his big toe.

What I mean is that they numbed up his big toe, then they were injecting the joint with Steroids and for some reason the medic shoved it all the way through his big toe. So there he sat yelling and pointing at his toe, actually screaming and you could see the syringe on top of his big toe and the needle was sticking out the bottom of his big toe.

So the medic became known as Doc Stick. Because all you are going to feel is a small stick.

No actual harm was done, he did not feel anything but a small pinch and when he looked down and saw what happened and that is when he got mad. He still ended up getting the shot of steroids and thanks to all the numbing shots Pvt Messner did not feel anything. Although he did get a PT profile for a week and no marching so I guess it was a win for him.
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

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