“Now, That Scared Me!”

Carried a bayonet

twice in Vietnam: both times

I was scared pissless!*


*(Well, not actually: it was the reverse, but I don’t want to scare any survivors.  The old practice of feeding Marines a big steak-n-eggs breakfast before a World War II island invasion made for some real ghastly surgical procedures in the first minutes and hours.  The few times I went out on supposedly “hot” insertions by helicopter mostly I was ever so thankful I had hot eaten before: the thought of soiling – of having anything available to evacuate – would have mortified my mom, having to wash those terrible clothes just so she could bury me properly.  No. No?  Not really: but there was this time or twelve…)

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