In the Army Now - The joy of the Armed Forces
I've never been a soldier. I was an air cadet once, but that mostly involved sitting in a mouldy hut learning about aeroplane engines with the hint that one day we might go flying.
Yet, anyone who has spent time defending their nation, or at least drinking bromide-laced-tea for their nation, must have stories to tell. Tell them now.
( , Thu 23 Mar 2006, 18:26)
I've never been a soldier. I was an air cadet once, but that mostly involved sitting in a mouldy hut learning about aeroplane engines with the hint that one day we might go flying.
Yet, anyone who has spent time defending their nation, or at least drinking bromide-laced-tea for their nation, must have stories to tell. Tell them now.
( , Thu 23 Mar 2006, 18:26)
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the first dance i'd ever been to
was during a battle. it was my first time out in the field. about 15 years old. I was a private in the 3rd Maine, Company F. I shared a tent with the man i'd grown up with. My uniform was a hand-me-down from his time spent in the unit years before. they barely fit, but at least it was warm in the blustering cold of january. my first morning was spent rolling powder cartridges and cleaning my musket. the boiling water is not fun when you can't move your fingers because of the cold.
when we faced our enemy they surprised us and charged with bayonettes fixed, my friend jared died spectacularly. i on the other hand shot before they reached me, and we pressed on. the day's battle was one by the union troops, but the next day's battle was won by those stinking confederates.
after that week in hell, i knew i was fighting for more than a less-than-steady paycheck. i was fighting for her, the girl in the purple dress sitting on the hill and watching us kill our fellow man.
(i'm a civil war reenactor. btw.)
( , Thu 23 Mar 2006, 20:29, Reply)
was during a battle. it was my first time out in the field. about 15 years old. I was a private in the 3rd Maine, Company F. I shared a tent with the man i'd grown up with. My uniform was a hand-me-down from his time spent in the unit years before. they barely fit, but at least it was warm in the blustering cold of january. my first morning was spent rolling powder cartridges and cleaning my musket. the boiling water is not fun when you can't move your fingers because of the cold.
when we faced our enemy they surprised us and charged with bayonettes fixed, my friend jared died spectacularly. i on the other hand shot before they reached me, and we pressed on. the day's battle was one by the union troops, but the next day's battle was won by those stinking confederates.
after that week in hell, i knew i was fighting for more than a less-than-steady paycheck. i was fighting for her, the girl in the purple dress sitting on the hill and watching us kill our fellow man.
(i'm a civil war reenactor. btw.)
( , Thu 23 Mar 2006, 20:29, Reply)
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