Briefback Contest II

**Roguish Lawyer** · 07-31-2011, 14:07

Time for another storytelling contest. QPs only. Tell your best SF-related story. No repeats from the last contest, please.

Winner gets one of the Eagle's "SF Reaper" t-shirts plus an authentic Reagan-Bush 84 bumper sticker. Maybe something extra if I am particularly impressed by the story or if the prize is delayed like last time, LOL.

OK, go. Do the best you can.

alelks · 07-31-2011, 15:55

Short but VERY sweet.

This was during the infamous Oro Grande incident. During this particular briefback CPT Realini was giving his portion of the briefback and said something REALLY stupid. For the life of me I can't remember what it was now but it was so bad that LTC Jacobelly looked over to the XO and said "Do you want to hit this Dumb SOB or do you want me to?". That's when I walked out the back door because I didn't want to be a witness as to what might come next.

Dusty · 07-31-2011, 16:08

In Panama, this guy got hit in between the front and back of his Second Chance vest. He started hollering for the Medic, who started adminsistering aid.

He was talking soothingly to the injured Team member, who was pretty agitated, to calm him down. The guy evidently thought he was about to die from the wound, and kept saying something like, "howbadisitmancomeonmanamIgonnadieman!?"

The Doc finally finished his assessment, snorted, and said something like "it's nothing a scratch, dude."

He grabbed the Medic's hand, looked up into his eyes and said, "Well, will you get me a Coke, then?"

Richard · 07-31-2011, 16:51

When going through SFUWO, we used to take turns driving the stake-bed truck carrying everyone back and forth from the billets on Fleming Key to the mess hall over at Truman Annex at Key West. One Sunday it was my turn. I was wearing white tennis shorts and a white polo shirt, and another student spilled his orange drink which splashed all over me at breakfast.

On the way back to the billets, several guys were getting off to do laundry so I gave them my shirt, shorts, socks, and underwear to wash before the stains set in – all I was wearing were my tennis shoes.

I got stopped at the entrance back to the billets area by the Marine gate guard who told me I couldn’t drive the truck because I wasn’t wearing a shirt. He couldn’t see inside the cab of the truck – one of those IH 4x4 5-ton stake-beds – but made me show my ID and MilDL, and wrote my name on his clipboard before letting me through the gate with a warning to be sure and have a shirt on in the future. I told him I would be sure to do that.

The guys in the back of truck were laughing their @$$es off and the next day we got warned by the SFUWO cadre to be sure and wear a shirt IAW Navy regulations when driving the truck around Key West.

Those were before the DADT days - don't know what would've happened today.

Richard

Tress · 08-01-2011, 15:00

It was one of those things that happened every once in a while that we just could not get out of, kind of like having to pick up pine cones around post. The team was on post, we did not have anything of particular import on the training schedule for that day so someone gave us something to do. NBC training! And this NBC training included going through the “gas chamber” to check the seals on our masks, something that no one really looks forward to doing. The designated team NBC NCO, Pizo, refreshed our memories all day long on all things NBC under the hot Carolina sun. At the end of the day we had only one more task to complete and that was to actually go into the gas chamber. We put on our NBC gear and lined up. For some reason (IIRC it was because the actual chamber was really small) we went into the chamber in groups of only three, with Pizo staying in there the entire time. The rest of the team went through and there were just three of us left. Myself, the TM SGT and Joshua Mordecai Freeman (RIP).

Josh, who I just learned recently had died a few years ago in a civilian helicopter crash, was of the Jewish faith, but, at the time, not a practicing Jew by any stretch of the imagination. He was also the team jokester and funny guy. He had a sense of humor that bordered on the deranged at times. The TM SGT was almost always was referred to as “HE.” Those were actually the initials of his first and middle names, but legend had it that his temper was sometimes “highly explosive” and that was why he was referred to as “HE.” To be honest though, I cannot remember ever having seen an example of his temperament being highly explosive. To me he always seemed very even-keeled. And then there was me, 6’-1”, blonde-haired and blue-eyed from a slightly Germanic ancestry.

The group before us exits the chamber and “HE” looks at Josh and I sitting on the bleachers and says, “Come on guys, let’s get this over with.” I started to get up and Josh just screams out, “NO!!!” very seriously and forcefully. I was a little startled and sat back down because I knew, with Josh’s reputation, that this was going to be good and I wanted to see how this would be played out. “HE” looked at him with a grin on his face, he also suspected that this was going to be good, and said in his best father-to-son, calm voice, “O.K. Mordecai, what’s the problem?” (“HE” almost always called Josh by his middle name). Josh replied, “I am not going in there! I will not do it and there is nothing that you can do to make me go in there!” “HE” again asked him what the problem was and Josh went into about a two minute diatribe about how “his people (Jews) have been subjected to this type of atrocity (gas chambers) for far too long and that he was not going to be led into a gas chamber as if he was a sheep like his ancestors were and that he would fight against it with every fiber of his being.” I sat there trying to keep a straight face and wondered if I would now get a chance to see the famous, “highly explosive” temper. I mean, it was not going to be directed at me so what did I have to lose.

“HE” just grinned a little, stepped toward Josh and as he did so said through gnashed teeth, “Mordecai, get your ass in that damned chamber before I kick your ass into it.” Josh, with a complete change of heart, simply said, “OK”, as if he was saying “OK” to going out to get some ice cream, and got up to go into the chamber. I was slightly disappointed that Josh gave up so quickly.
I was still sitting on the bleachers grinning as “HE” looked at me and said, “Come on, Thomas, let’s go.” But, I just simply could not let it all end at this point. I just sat there and as seriously and forcefully as I dared, yelled, “NO!!!” Both “HE” and Josh stopped dead in their tracks and turned towards me, “HE” with a perplexed look on his face and Josh with a shit-eating grin on his. Josh came back to the bleachers, sat next to me, put his arm around my shoulders and grinned back at “HE” along with his newly found supporter at his side. “HE” was now just shaking his head as he walked back to us. “What’s your fucking problem?” “HE” asked, but not in that same father-to-son, mentoring voice. “I am not going into that chamber! I will not do it!” I replied. Josh hugged my shoulders more tightly and told “HE” that he and I were united in this effort to not be gassed.

But “HE” was certainly not stupid and had a bit of a sense of humor also. He also knew of my Germanic ancestry. “I can almost understand Mordecai not wanting to do this, but you surprise me, Thomas. What could your objection possibly be?” “HE” replied. “Hell, your ancestors were the ones that gassed his ancestors. You should feel at home in the damned thing with a Jew beside you!” Josh at this point loosened his grip on my shoulders and moved ever so slightly away from me. I replied, “That is my point exactly. Look at what my ancestors have done to Josh’s ancestors. I do not want to perpetuate this ghastly treatment of other human beings that my ancestors started. It ends here and now.” Josh moved back in close to me and his grip around my shoulders was tighter than before.

At this point Pizo poked his head out of the gas chamber, knowing we still had yet to go through the chamber and was probably wondering where we were. He called out to us and “HE” told him that we would be there in a moment.

Now, to this day, I am not sure if “HE” had reached his breaking point (doubtful) or it had been too long and boring of a day in the hot sun (it certainly was both) or if he just wanted to get the hell out of there and get a beer (which is my guess), but he told the two of us to “get into that damned chamber before I kick both your asses” as he lunged at the two of us on the bleachers. Josh and I both exited the bleachers as if shot out of a canon and walked to the gas chamber with our arms around each other’s shoulders and “HE” grumbling about ten yards behind us. As the three of us were putting on our gas masks Josh was humming “Hava Nagila” while I was humming “Deutschlandlied” (which most will recognize by the incorrect title of “Deutschland Uber Alles”). “HE” looked at us both and shook his head. Josh told him that we were both trying to “get into the proper historical frame of mind” for the gas chamber. “HE” continued shaking his head and laughed as we walked into the chamber, probably wondering what it was that he did to deserve us.

Josh, you passed way too soon, but I will always remember you. Rest in Peace. נוח בשלום

greenberetTFS · 08-01-2011, 15:19

Quote:

Originally Posted by Roguish Lawyer

Time for another storytelling contest. QPs only. Tell your best SF-related story. No repeats from the last contest, please.

Winner gets one of the Eagle's "SF Reaper" t-shirts plus an authentic Reagan-Bush 84 bumper sticker. Maybe something extra if I am particularly impressed by the story or if the prize is delayed like last time, LOL.

OK, go. Do the best you can.

RL,

Where do we vote at?.......

Big Teddy

**Roguish Lawyer** · 08-01-2011, 16:49

Quote:

Originally Posted by greenberetTFS

RL,

Where do we vote at?.......

Big Teddy

I'll do a separate thread for voting after we have enough stories to pick from. I'll leave this open for a while first.

We're off to a fine start!

BMT (RIP) · 08-01-2011, 17:51

My job involves so much secrecy, I don't even know what I'm doing.

BMT

x SF med · 08-01-2011, 18:25

The only (partial) story I have involves 3 dials, 2 keys, a very heavy rucksack and the words, "Do not finger f**k that friggin button" as part of the briefback. It's only funny if you know why it would be a bad thing.

Richard · 08-01-2011, 18:53

Quote:

Originally Posted by x SF med

The only (partial) story I have involves 3 dials, 2 keys, a very heavy rucksack and the words, "Do not finger f**k that friggin button" as part of the briefback. It's only funny if you know why it would be a bad thing.

Not if the dots were blue vs those two other colors.

And so it goes...

Richard

Tress · 08-01-2011, 19:04

Quote:

Originally posted by x SF med:

The only (partial) story I have involves 3 dials, 2 keys, a very heavy rucksack and the words, "Do not finger f**k that friggin button" as part of the briefback. It's only funny if you know why it would be a bad thing.

That rucksack wasn't that heavy. There were no radios in it.

Richard · 08-01-2011, 19:08

Quote:

Originally Posted by Tress

That rucksack wasn't that heavy.

Ha! It sure was when your command had that MC-130E fly your alternate and put you two mountain ranges over from your intended TA and you still had to get it there within the designated 'window' or else...

Richard

PSM · 08-01-2011, 19:14

Quote:

Originally Posted by x SF med

The only (partial) story I have involves 3 dials, 2 keys, a very heavy rucksack and the words, "Do not finger f**k that friggin button" as part of the briefback. It's only funny if you know why it would be a bad thing.

I seem to recall having some of those rucksacks in my concrete hut with the sod shingles.

Seems there were medium and small rucks. Am I mis-remembering?

I also had some of Col. M's most favorite weapon.

Pat

Tress · 08-01-2011, 19:29

Quote:

Originally posted by Richard:

Ha! It sure was when your command had that MC-130E fly your alternate and put you two mountain ranges over from your intended TA and you still had to get it there within the designated 'window' or else...

Richard

You have me there.

My only excuse is that being the only Radio Operator on the team I was not supposed to have anything to do with that rucksack.

But, damn if it doesn't sound as if we were on the same exercise once. Our problem was that the Air Force navigator was confused so we flew to the alternate, but he was confused about that DZ also because we almost landed in a different country that, though it was U.S.-friendly most of the time, was not a member of NATO. Missed it by a kilometer or so.

Richard · 08-01-2011, 19:56

Quote:

Originally Posted by Tress

My only excuse is that being the only Radio Operator on the team I was not supposed to have anything to do with that rucksack.

Yeah...but w/o you those little envelopes and that rucksack full of 'dead weight' weren't worth a s**t...unless you hit somebody over the head with the damn thing!

Quote:

Originally Posted by Tress

But, damn if it doesn't sound as if we were on the same exercise once. Our problem was that the Air Force navigator was confused so we flew to the alternate, but he was confused about that DZ also because we almost landed in a different country that, though it was U.S.-friendly most of the time, was not a member of NATO. Missed it by a kilometer or so.

A kilometer would've been nice. We used to leave out of Neubiberg for the UK and then they'd drop us back in to mainland Europe - that seemed to confuse the hell out of the Air Farce...but we were the ones who always seemed to suffer most for their confusion.

And then there was carrying those beacons for the FB-111's...

And so it goes...

Richard