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Post by ncsfsgm on Mar 20, 2022 8:04:59 GMT -6
Thanks for the update "First Sergeant T.J. Hooker" really? ? Well, someone's paying attention at least...
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Post by cavsgt on Mar 20, 2022 9:06:21 GMT -6
Well good job----I have not a clue where this story is headed.
Thank You phill
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Post by gipsy on Mar 20, 2022 10:28:57 GMT -6
Thanks for the update "First Sergeant T.J. Hooker" really? ? Well, someone's paying attention at least...Perhaps just old enough to remember it. Wonder if anyone else will catch it?
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Post by cavsgt on Mar 20, 2022 11:07:47 GMT -6
Well, someone's paying attention at least... Perhaps just old enough to remember it. Wonder if anyone else will catch it? Probably not enough of the old crowd left around here. Remember T J and 3 channels, if you had a tower and an antenna roter. With rabbit ears just one channel if you could see the TV station out your window.
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Post by gipsy on Mar 20, 2022 11:19:20 GMT -6
Our tv was in an entertainment center that must have weighed 500 lbs. You put it in one spot and it was there for life.
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Post by ncsfsgm on Mar 20, 2022 16:27:47 GMT -6
Chapter 21- Westward Ho!
Cole's first day of driving brought him to Memphis. It was a little farther than he had intended on going but his mouth got to watering, thinking about a big plate of barbecue. He stopped outside the city first to fill up his fuel tank. He really didn't need to, the truck had saddle tanks added as an option that gave him over double the range from the single tank. He could have driven to New Mexico on one fill up. Nevertheless, he would fill the tank up at the end of each driving day. Cole got a hotel room just off I-40 and asked the cute clerk for the best BBQ restaurant around and she quickly gave him the name "Top's" and the address, but had to decline when he asked her if she'd like to go with him. She still was on duty. He would have to drive a few blocks so he opted for a taxi because he wanted to enjoy a beer with his meal. He got a taxi from the queue and was there in a few minutes. He was quickly brought his beer and his rack of Baby Backs with Cole slaw and Bar-B-Q beans arrived quickly after. Cole slowly ate, savoring the delicious meal, topping it off with another beer. Finally sated, Cole caught a taxi back to the hotel room. He took a shower and laid on the bed in his boxers watching TV and soon fell asleep.
Cole awoke the next morning refreshed and alert. Looking at the small bedside clock, he saw it was 0430. He had slept in. He got up, used the bathroom and started his daily morning push-ups and sit-ups, stopping at 150. He wanted to get out of the city before the morning traffic picked up. He planned to stop for breakfast around 0700. After taking a quick shower and packing his things, he set his sights set on Muskogee, Oklahoma. Muskogee was a little ways off I-40 but it had the nearest Holiday Inn to I-40 and the old song by Merle Haggard, "Okie From Muskogee" would run through his mind when he heard the town's name. It was one of his father's favorite songs. His father, before he left on his journey, had handed him an envelope containing $5000 in cash, a Holiday In V.I.P. card, a Master Card and an American Express Card, both V.I.P. cards.
"Son, these cards are paid off at the end of each month automatically from your Trust Account. Just don't go hog wild."
Cole wasn't a compulsive buyer nor a binge buyer. He took into consideration whatever he bought, he would have to lug around for the next few years. Food, however, was a different matter. Cole didn't care what it cost as long as it was good. As Cole was loading his travel pack into the Suburban and as he was driving across the Hernando DeSoto Bridge over the Mississippi River, he noticed the lack of traffic. It was probably little impetuous to leave as early as he did, but he was wide awake anyway. He stopped at a truckstop outside of Little Rock, Arkansas. There were twenty or thirty big rigs parked in the parking area. Dave had told Cole to watch for places like that, they usually had pretty good food. Cole got a good breakfast and continued on the Muskogee.
Cole checked into the Holiday Inn and checked out the diasplay stand holding a thousand tourist brochures and the Five Civilized Tribes Museum looked interesting so he went to go through it. He came out after a couple of hours with a lower spirit than when he went in. That a supposedly civilized country could do something like they did in the 1800s to Native Americans didn't sit well with him. He again asked the desk clerk for a good place to eat. This time the clerk was male and not that good looking with the cold sore on his lip. Cole opted to drive this time and not have a beer with his meal. He could get one back at the hotel bar if he felt like it.
It had become a regular thing to wake up at 0430 so Cole got up, showered and combined his accumulated dirty clothes into one of te hotel's provided laundry sacks and would turn it in at the next hotel in Amarillo, Texas. Checking with the desk clerk, he was able to get an advanced reservation and would just have to check in. The night clerk had recommended a place for that early hour so Cole had breakfast and was on I-40, headed for Amarillo, before six. The radio stations he tuned in quickly went out of range, so Cole pulled into a truckstop and bought a few music cassettes to play. He picked out eight and put the first one in the player. The truck had come with a Delco-Bose Music System AM/FM Stereo Radio w/SK&SC, Cassette & Digital Clock. He could barely set the time on the clock, which going through the time zones was a pain in the butt. He got the music going and continued on to Amarillo, Texas.
After going to his room in Amarillo, Cole took a quick shower and added his clothes to the laundry. He was early enough checking in that the maids were on duty and picked up his laundry that would be returned to him that evening. He had only a four hour drive the next day to Albuquerque. Cole had planned it that way so he'd have time to get in a good run. There had to be something going on in Amarillo, but he didn't see it, It looked like their biggest claim to fame was the gigantic billboard out next to I-40 proclaiming Amarillo to be the town with 103 motels.
The next morning, he again reserved a room in Albuquerque and ate an early breakfast and bought a couple of bottles of spring water. Lovers of nature can tell you most anything, but there is NOTHING between Amarillo and Albuquerque that drew Cole's interest. He was glad he'd decided to make it a short trip. It would probably be the same between Albuquerque and Kingman, Arizona, but he'd cross that bridge when he got to it. Cole was glad he'd decided to make a longer stop here. They had some nice trails to run on. He chose a 5-mile loop on the Paseo del Bosque Trail that he ran a couple of circuits on. The sun was out, the temperature was in the high 50s, and even though they were almost a mile above sea level, Cole was comfortable. After getting back to the hotel, he rinsed out his running shorts and jersey and hung them over the shower curtain rod to dry. After taking a shower, Cole lounged on the bed and read through the tourist packet available in every room. He was especially interested in the restaurants. Picking up the room phone, he reserved a table for one at Fogo de Chão and went to the truck to get a nice pair of slacks, a blazer and his pair of Chelsea boots. Going back into the hanging garment back, he selected a tie and rolled it into a pocket of the blazer.
Cole took a taxi to the restaurant and was quickly seated at his table. He started with a Schwarzbier and a serving of fresh ceviche. The fire-cooked Lomo melted in his mouth and the vegetables were cooked to perfection. Cole had one more Schwarzbier to finish the evening. He could come to this restaurant every night and not get tired of it.
Cole was up early again the next morning. It was going to be a long drive to Kingman, and not a lot to look at. He had breakfast and purchased more water at a 7-11 and set up his music. Cole took a break in Flagstaff for lunch at the El Tapatio Mexican Restaurant. The food was good. He would have liked a Mexican beer with it, but he was driving. Flagstaff wasn't that big, maybe 70,000 or so people, but it was too touristy for him. The views and terrain of the next two hours to Kingman had Cole's mind going. It took a special breed of people to live out here, and an ever tougher breed to even settle it. He'd take the green hills and ridges of east Tennessee any day.
Kingman wasn't anything to shake a stick at. He had a mediocre meal and wouldn't have fond memories of the place. Cole had a five hour drive through the desert before arriving in Bakersfield, so he bought more spring water and got on the road after an decent breakfast at a different restaurant the next morning.. As Cole gazed across the desolate terrain, he decided he'd need to find some books on surviving in the desert and become familiar with it. Bakersfield turned out to be a nice size city. He found the hotel and decided to get something simple to eat and look around. Tomorrow, Friday, he only had about a three and a half hour drive to the Presidio of Monterey and didn't want to get stuck on some CQ roster. He would stay the weekend at the Holiday Inn at Monterey Bay, check out the surrounding area and sign in Monday morning.
Cole arrived in Monterey at 0930 the next morning, It was too early to check in to so he drove around, seeing and memorizing where everything was located. He at a fresh seafood lunch at Fisherman's Wharf and looked through some of the shops that were being established in the old cannery warehouses, It was historically interesting but nothing that tickled his personal interest in purchasing abalone shells with Marina Beach painted on them. He check in at the Holiday Inn in Marina and bundled his laundry to turn in.
Cole couldn't get enough of the seafood. He selected a restaurant that night and tried a combination seafood platter with two oysters on the half shell. He watched the guys at the next table with a pile of oyster shells piled in the middle of the table gulping down the oysters. He squirted a little lemon juice on the oyster, added a dash of hot sauce, like he'd seen the guys at the next table doing, and tossed it down. Eyes bulging and trying to keep from gagging, Cole finally got the oyster down. Cole had to check and make sure he hadn't thrown up anything. He put the second oyster at the edge of the platter and left it alone. Eating oysters on the half-shell was like swallowing a big loogie. He didn't do that either. However, the rest of the platter was delicious and had a piece of cheesecake at the end of his meal to make up for the loogie.
Saturday morning, since there were no classes being conducted, Cole decided to drive through the Presidio to check it out. As he entered the gate at the top of the steep hill he heard some yell out "Boyle!" Cole looked around and saw someone waving frantically at him from a parking lot. Pulling into the parking lot, Cole got out as the man approached him.
"Tom Hooker told me to keep a lookout for you and make sure your ass stayed out of trouble. Oh, my name is Jake Morton, Sergeant First Class, Special Forces."
"It's good to meet you Sergeant Morton." Cole said, shaking SFC Morton's hand.
"Nah, Nah, we're on the same team now, Call me Jake."
"I'm Cole Boyle. So, what's the layout?"
"You're not signing in today, are you Cole?" Jake asked.
"No, I'm staying at a hotel down in Marina for the weekend. I'll sign in Monday morning."
"Smart move. The First Sergeant of our company is a Leg and an ass, but I repeat myself. I'll find time to give him a tune-up. Listen, there are about fifteen SF here and we have to watch out for each other. We do everything together unless you've got a date. We PT together and we're thinking of doing a PT test once a month. The MI pukes and the Air Force duds will try everything to make us look bad. The Marine Embassy Guards here taking language courses are cool. Keep your head and don't drink without an SF wingman or one of the Marines."
"Gotcha."
"What language are you taking?" Jake asked.
"German." Cole replied.
"Good, I am too. Well, I'll let get to doing what you were doing. I'll see you Monday and stay safe." Jake said, pointing a finger at Cole.
"Okay Jake, thanks."
Cole found a deli just outside the back gate of the Presidio and had a sandwich made and took it to one of the lookouts along 17-Mile Drive and ate lunch. It was a stark contrast from what he had been viewing the last few days. It was just plain beautiful watching the blue-green waters crashing on the rocks. The sea breeze was refreshing and seemed to cleanse his mind. This would be one of his favorite spots to meditate during his time at the language school.
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Post by cavsgt on Mar 20, 2022 17:55:51 GMT -6
Nice Thank You
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Post by bluefox2 on Mar 20, 2022 18:16:58 GMT -6
Perhaps just old enough to remember it. Wonder if anyone else will catch it? Probably not enough of the old crowd left around here. Remember T J and 3 channels, if you had a tower and an antenna roter. With rabbit ears just one channel if you could see the TV station out your window. Never did in my many years of police work learn to throw that nightstick like Hooker did to stop a suspect.
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Post by texican on Mar 20, 2022 19:15:36 GMT -6
Oysters on the half shell are an acquired taste. Would always chew my up.
Had a morgue room doctor tell me that oysters were the vacuums of the seas and could contain all sorts of diseases unless cooked to kill the diseases. Went to fried oysters after that.
Texican....
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ydderf2
Member
"I'm from the government and here to help" hahahaha
Posts: 321
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Post by ydderf2 on Mar 20, 2022 20:21:44 GMT -6
The only time I tried an oyster on the half shell it got about half way down and all of a sudden these little legs came out and it started to crawl back up my throat all the way shouting no way no way.
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Post by solo on Mar 20, 2022 20:22:18 GMT -6
Monterey is one of my favorite places! Had one of my first heart stopping Emergency in an H-65 (with Coast Guard), flying out of their Airport... I was at the stick and am still typing. I was stationed in the bay area for 10 years and always loved going to Monterey. 17 Mile drive, Carmel, Big Sur. Great area! I love oysters, but am partial to those from Apalachicola Bay here in the panhandle.
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Post by gipsy on Mar 20, 2022 20:50:52 GMT -6
Thanks for the update.
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Post by ncsfsgm on Mar 21, 2022 5:26:09 GMT -6
Chapter 22- School Daze
Monday morning, they all processed in and drew the twenty something workbooks that covered each module of the course. They split up all the German students but Jake and Cole were in the same class in Building #548. They spoke English the first three days to ask the instructors questions then after that there was nothing but German spoken, no matter how badly you spoke. Constant corrections were made and you learned or sunk.
They issued each student a tape recorder (a cassette player) and a bunch of tapes to practice on every night with stuff like... Bist du der Lehrer? "Are you the teacher?) Nein, ich bin nicht der Lehrer, ich bin ein Student. (No, I am not the teacher, I am a student.) There were about fifteen of these cassette tapes in a box. When you finished a box, you turned it in and drew another one. You were supposed listen to them and answer the questions every night for homework so that you could hear and improve your accent. The problem was the tapes were made by German speakers with different dialects and Cole would end up speaking in his own dialect, an amalgam of words of different dialects, which he had to correct later. Cole would put a set of earphones on and close his eyes and simply absorb the dialogs played to him. He would finish a box of tapes in three days. Jake however had a secret. He already spoke fluent German, learned from his grandmother. His box of tapes gathered dust while Cole wore his out.
There was also what they called a dialogue every day in class, which was a little play between a couple of speakers at a bar or a restaurant or having a discussion about what their plans were for the day and each night they were supposed to memorize the dialog from the workbooks for the next day. Then, each morning, the first thing, they did these dialogs, taking first one part, then the other with other members of their class, following the memorized dialog from the workbook. Jake and Cole would tag teamed on this. They would discuss the normal stuff but would drift in to talking about General Clausewitz's theories on war or Rommel's tank tactics. At first, the instructor was shocked, then became quite pleased as the dialogs went on. This went on for about a month until the Chief instructor couldn't stand it anymore and had someone work on Cole's dialect. They finally took the time to make sure he had tapes that were all in High German, which covered more countries than Low German.
The weeks went by and several students were released from the course because of alcohol related incidents and sexually related violations. The school was filled with good looking young women that wanted to party and party they did. The majority were also huge teases too. Cole went out a few times on dates but didn't want to get involved with someone only to be stationed across the country or world after they finished their training at DLIFLC. He'd go out and have a beer with the guys on Friday night to unwind but they usually didn't go farther than the American Legion Post just off the Presidio, which was a popular gathering place for a clique of SF and Marine wannabes and starry-eyed female students. They would shoot some pool, have a few beers and walk back up the hill.
One Friday night Cole couldn't find Jake so he walked down to the American Legion to have a beer and watch the TV for a while. When he got there, several guys were standing around a pickup truck parked in front of the flagpole. As he walked up he saw Jake standing there with the guys, looking down into the bed of the truck.
"Hey Cole, you ever killed a pig?" Jake asked.
"Yeah, why?"
"We want to have a pig pickin'" Jake explained.
"Well, we can't shoot it here in town, the cops will be all over you. If I just cut its throat, there will be blood all over the place. Let's string it up in that tree over there where we can catch the blood. Someone go in and get a garbage bag." Cole said.
They got the pig over to the tree and strung up. It was squealing like crazy. When the men had the pig in the air, two guys held the garbage bag while Cole cut the pigs throat. It quickly bled out and Cole started gutting it, which took another garbage bag. All of a sudden a police car pulled up with lights flashing.
"What's going on here? We received a call someone was poaching deer out of Veteran's Park."
Jake pulled the pigs head up by an ear and asked. "Does this look like a deer? Is there a municipal law against killing a pig within the city limits?"
The officer went back to his car and was on the radio for several minutes. Apparently, there was no law against what they were doing. He just told them to keep the noise down.
Cole finished cleaning the pig and washed everything down with a water hose, Taking the pig inside to the kitchen, they put the pig in a huge tub and emptied the ice machine over the pig. It would keep until the next afternoon. They would cook the pig all night Saturday night over the fire pit in back of the building and have the pig picking Sunday.
The pig picking went great, Someone went to the deli and had gotten a load of mustard potato salad and slaw, another guy went to the bakery and had gotten long loaves of bread, more guys chipped in for the sodas and beer (bought from the American Legion, of course), and invited all the German instructors, who surprisingly, showed up. They spoke nothing but German the whole afternoon, which put the groupies on the peripheral of the conversations. Frau Schröder, head of the European Languages Department, praised the group for extending their language experience into their recreational activities. Later, Frau Schröder saw Cole sitting alone at a picnic table and went over.
"Unteroffizier Boyle, der die Idee für diese Party hatte?" ("Sergeant Boyle, who had the idea for this party?")
"Guten Tag, Frau Schröder, bitte einen Platz. Es war wirklich nicht nur eine Person. Wir sind gerade zusammengestanden und gemacht." ("Good afternoon Frau Schröder, please have a seat. It really was not just one person. We just got together and made it happen.")
"Nun, es ist lobbar, dass Sie heute Ihre Sprachtraining integriert haben." ("Well, it is commendable that you have integrated your language training today.")
Cole grinned. "Übung macht den Meister." ("Practice makes perfect.")
"Ja, Unteroffizier Boyle, das ist wahr." ("Yes, Sergeant Boyle, that is true.") Frau Schröder said, smiling.
The conversations went into every subject under the sun, sometimes an instructor would give corrections on the structure of a sentence or pronunciation, but all in good fun. Everyone had a great time. As the sun was going down, everyone, including the instructors, pitched in and helped clean up. They left the American Legion kitchen cleaner than how they found it.
Toward the end of the language course, Cole and Jake were singled out at times by different instructors, each time to go somewhere and just have a conversation. Sometimes it was to the Snack Bar, sometimes to an office, but they'd would sit and talk with the instructor who paid particular attention to how Cole and Jake conversed.
At the end of the course, they had to take a test to grade their language proficiency. Both Jake and Cole scored a 3+/3+, with was near native proficiency. Jake wasn't surprised at his score, but he was both surprised and pleased at Cole's score. In the final days of the course, they all were impatiently waiting for their orders assigning them to their gaining unit. Things were heating up in the Middle East and they wanted to be in the forefront if their units got deployed.
The day they got the word to report to the orderly room to pick up their orders, Jake grinned and slapped Cole on the back. They walked over together and were handed a large brown envelope that was glued shut. They tore the ends off the envelope and pull the sheet out.
"WHAT IS THIS BULLS#!T!" Jake shouted.
"They're sending me to Fort Bragg to something called the Center for Military Assistance TDY in route to 10th Special Forces Group, Ft. Devens." Cole said.
"That's what my orders read too. WTF?"
"I don't know, but we've got eight days to get there. We need to start out-processing ASAP." Cole said.
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Post by udwe on Mar 21, 2022 6:44:27 GMT -6
conservation? Or conversation?
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Post by gipsy on Mar 21, 2022 7:15:15 GMT -6
Thanks for the update
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Post by solo on Mar 21, 2022 9:31:51 GMT -6
Perhaps just old enough to remember it. Wonder if anyone else will catch it? Probably not enough of the old crowd left around here. Remember T J and 3 channels, if you had a tower and an antenna roter. With rabbit ears just one channel if you could see the TV station out your window. I caught this as well... Didn't watch the show, but thought the costar was gentle on the eyes. That was until her private life became public.... Anyway, I was rural growing up so any tv watching was usually the news and later at night. We had three channels and one of those was PBS...
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Post by solo on Mar 21, 2022 9:38:31 GMT -6
'Jake however had a secret. He already spoke fluent German, learned from his grandmother.'
Ich bin halb Deutsch. This didn't work for me as my mother did not learn high German and that is all they taught in college. All she knew was her dialect that was unique to the Aschaffenburg area (Include Frankfurt). She also considered herself fully assimilated (Came to the states in 1952) and refused to teach us German. Her German. When I would go home for help, she couldn't help me because of the dialect issues. There are common phrases, but there were enough differences to frustrate her.
Sad thing is when her mind began to go, she reverted back to almost 100 percent German.
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Post by NCWEBNUT on Mar 21, 2022 11:34:15 GMT -6
I spent the first talking and learning to talk years of my life in Germany, and had to be taught to speak English when we moved back home to America, I'm a Army Brat LOL, I wish now I had been forced to continue speaking German, cause now I can't speak any. But then there are times when I'm watching old WW2 movies and hear a German speaking and its like I somehow understand what their saying and don't know why I can't find the words to reply.
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Post by texican on Mar 21, 2022 14:17:21 GMT -6
conservation? Or conversation? U, N does mix up and miss spells some words, but your minds eye corrects while reading. Can be irritating, but the stories do not suffer. Thanks N for the stories. Texican....
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Post by bluefox2 on Mar 21, 2022 16:50:44 GMT -6
Chapter 22- School Daze
Monday morning, they all processed in and drew the twenty something workbooks that covered each module of the course. They split up all the German students but Jake and Cole were in the same class in Building #548. They spoke English the first three days to ask the instructors questions then after that there was nothing but German spoken, no matter how badly you spoke. Constant corrections were made and you learned or sunk.
They issued each student a tape recorder (a cassette player) and a bunch of tapes to practice on every night with stuff like... Bist du der Lehrer? "Are you the teacher?) Nein, ich bin nicht der Lehrer, ich bin ein Student. (No, I am not the teacher, I am a student.) There were about fifteen of these cassette tapes in a box. When you finished a box, you turned it in and drew another one. You were supposed listen to them and answer the questions every night for homework so that you could hear and improve your accent. The problem was the tapes were made by German speakers with different dialects and Cole would end up speaking in his own dialect, an amalgam of words of different dialects, which he had to correct later. Cole would put a set of earphones on and close his eyes and simply absorb the dialogs played to him. He would finish a box of tapes in three days. Jake however had a secret. He already spoke fluent German, learned from his grandmother. His box of tapes gathered dust while Cole wore his out.
There was also what they called a dialogue every day in class, which was a little play between a couple of speakers at a bar or a restaurant or having a discussion about what their plans were for the day and each night they were supposed to memorize the dialog from the workbooks for the next day. Then, each morning, the first thing, they did these dialogs, taking first one part, then the other with other members of their class, following the memorized dialog from the workbook. Jake and Cole would tag teamed on this. They would discuss the normal stuff but would drift in to talking about General Clausewitz's theories on war or Rommel's tank tactics. At first, the instructor was shocked, then became quite pleased as the dialogs went on. This went on for about a month until the Chief instructor couldn't stand it anymore and had someone work on Cole's dialect. They finally took the time to make sure he had tapes that were all in High German, which covered more countries than Low German.
The weeks went by and several students were released from the course because of alcohol related incidents and sexually related violations. The school was filled with good looking young women that wanted to party and party they did. The majority were also huge teases too. Cole went out a few times on dates but didn't want to get involved with someone only to be stationed across the country or world after they finished their training at DLIFLC. He'd go out and have a beer with the guys on Friday night to unwind but they usually didn't go farther than the American Legion Post just off the Presidio, which was a popular gathering place for a clique of SF and Marine wannabes and starry-eyed female students. They would shoot some pool, have a few beers and walk back up the hill.
One Friday night Cole couldn't find Jake so he walked down to the American Legion to have a beer and watch the TV for a while. When he got there, several guys were standing around a pickup truck parked in front of the flagpole. As he walked up he saw Jake standing there with the guys, looking down into the bed of the truck.
"Hey Cole, you ever killed a pig?" Jake asked.
"Yeah, why?"
"We want to have a pig pickin'" Jake explained.
"Well, we can't shoot it here in town, the cops will be all over you. If I just cut its throat, there will be blood all over the place. Let's string it up in that tree over there where we can catch the blood. Someone go in and get a garbage bag." Cole said.
They got the pig over to the tree and strung up. It was squealing like crazy. When the men had the pig in the air, two guys held the garbage bag while Cole cut the pigs throat. It quickly bled out and Cole started gutting it, which took another garbage bag. All of a sudden a police car pulled up with lights flashing.
"What's going on here? We received a call someone was poaching deer out of Veteran's Park."
Jake pulled the pigs head up by an ear and asked. "Does this look like a deer? Is there a municipal law against killing a pig within the city limits?"
The officer went back to his car and was on the radio for several minutes. Apparently, there was no law against what they were doing. He just told them to keep the noise down.
Cole finished cleaning the pig and washed everything down with a water hose, Taking the pig inside to the kitchen, they put the pig in a huge tub and emptied the ice machine over the pig. It would keep until the next afternoon. They would cook the pig all night Saturday night over the fire pit in back of the building and have the pig picking Sunday.
The pig picking went great, Someone went to the deli and had gotten a load of mustard potato salad and slaw, another guy went to the bakery and had gotten long loaves of bread, more guys chipped in for the sodas and beer (bought from the American Legion, of course), and invited all the German instructors, who surprisingly, showed up. They spoke nothing but German the whole afternoon, which put the groupies on the peripheral of the conversations. Frau Schröder, head of the European Languages Department, praised the group for extending their language experience into their recreational activities. Later, Frau Schröder saw Cole sitting alone at a picnic table and went over.
"Unteroffizier Boyle, der die Idee für diese Party hatte?" ("Sergeant Boyle, who had the idea for this party?")
"Guten Tag, Frau Schröder, bitte einen Platz. Es war wirklich nicht nur eine Person. Wir sind gerade zusammengestanden und gemacht." ("Good afternoon Frau Schröder, please have a seat. It really was not just one person. We just got together and made it happen.")
"Nun, es ist lobbar, dass Sie heute Ihre Sprachtraining integriert haben." ("Well, it is commendable that you have integrated your language training today.")
Cole grinned. "Übung macht den Meister." ("Practice makes perfect.")
"Ja, Unteroffizier Boyle, das ist wahr." ("Yes, Sergeant Boyle, that is true.") Frau Schröder said, smiling.
The conversations went into every subject under the sun, sometimes an instructor would give corrections on the structure of a sentence or pronunciation, but all in good fun. Everyone had a great time. As the sun was going down, everyone, including the instructors, pitched in and helped clean up. They left the American Legion kitchen cleaner than how they found it.
Toward the end of the language course, Cole and Jake were singled out at times by different instructors, each time to go somewhere and just have a conversation. Sometimes it was to the Snack Bar, sometimes to an office, but they'd would sit and talk with the instructor who paid particular attention to how Cole and Jake conversed.
At the end of the course, they had to take a test to grade their language proficiency. Both Jake and Cole scored a 3+/3+, with was near native proficiency. Jake wasn't surprised at his score, but he was both surprised and pleased at Cole's score. In the final days of the course, they all were impatiently waiting for their orders assigning them to their gaining unit. Things were heating up in the Middle East and they wanted to be in the forefront if their units got deployed.
The day they got the word to report to the orderly room to pick up their orders, Jake grinned and slapped Cole on the back. They walked over together and were handed a large brown envelope that was glued shut. They tore the ends off the envelope and pull the sheet out.
"WHAT IS THIS BULLS#!T!" Jake shouted.
"They're sending me to Fort Bragg to something called the Center for Military Assistance TDY in route to 10th Special Forces Group, Ft. Devens." Cole said.
"That's what my orders read too. WTF?"
"I don't know, but we've got eight days to get there. We need to start out-processing ASAP." Cole said.
AH Yes, Ft Devens, Mass. Old home of the 10th SF Mtn Group. And home for a signal/intel school at the time. when the new female AIT students showed up at the school those Green Berets looked like a bunch of sharks smelling blood in the water. I spent some time there in the early 80s on a hardship tour because of my Dad. Worked mainly as a game warden in the MP unit. Only place I have ever been that I got a snowmobile on my military driver's license. They even used to run motorcycle races on the lakes in winter.
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Post by ncsfsgm on Mar 21, 2022 16:56:44 GMT -6
Chapter 23 -Journey Into The Dark
Cole pulled out behind Jake leaving the Presidio. Cole glanced down to make sure the portable CB radio was on. He and Jake planned their trip back and decided they would get the CBs to stay connected with each other on the road. Since Cole's truck could travel a greater distance than Jake's Blazer could on a tank of fuel, Jake would take the lead. Once they hit Barstow, they would be on I-40 all the way to Memphis where they' pick up I-22 to I-20 and on to I-95 into Fayetteville/Fort Bragg. If they stuck to driving 11 hours a day, they could be back to Ft. Bragg in four days. They would only stop for fuel and calls of nature and to sleep. Cole and Jake had purchased a small coolers and had them strapped in the passenger seat for easy access. Cole had four bottles of spring water, two cans of Pepsi and two cans of Mountain Dew buried in the ice. The cassette player was going and Jake's Blazer was riding that magic edge over the speed limit that CHPs let you ride before they charged you with speeding. They made their first fuel stop in Ludlow. Pulling up beside the diesel pumps, Jake started pumping fuel into both trucks while Cole went inside, used the latrine and grabbed a bag of ice. They switched places while Cole refreshed the drinks and ice in the coolers, then Cole went in to pay for his fuel. Jake came out with a gas station hotdog and Cole shook his head, instead getting a bottle of Pepsi and pouring two packs of peanuts into it. They were a little over their first day's travel distance and hit the road again. It was Fall but the desert temperatures were still warm enough use the air conditioner. Traveling down I-40 with the tires humming and the music going, Cole happily sucked the Pepsi-soaked peanuts out of the bottle.
They grabbed rooms at a Best Western that evening in Holbrook, Arizona after topping off and checking their vehicles and replenishing their coolers with ice and drinks. Dinner was at a small restaurant where they ate and had a couple of beers each then hit the rack. Tomorrow would be another long day, but they were a quarter of the way there.
The next morning they grabbed breakfast sandwiches and coffee. Two hours later they made a quick rest stop to empty their bladders. The end of their driving day found them in Tucumcari, New Mexico sitting in front of ice cold mugs of beer and a large pizza, next to the Holiday Inn Cole had gotten them rooms.
After a restful night's sleep, they made it to Laguna, New Mexico to fuel up and make a rest stop. Getting another Pepsi and peanuts, Cole took the lead all the way to Amarillo, where they fueled up, got rooms at the Holiday Inn and had a great steak dinner, with two beers each. Cole went out as soon as his head hit the pillow.
They left before dawn to get as much mileage as they could before the sun began blinding them as it rose. They refueled in Salislaw, Oklahoma and took thirty minutes to walk around and drink milkshakes.
Memphis, BBQ and a Holiday Inn. The best of all worlds! They cleaned up and grabbed some bar-be-que and a couple of beers and went back to the hotel bar and had just one more beer. They were on the homeward stretch. The two decided to leave before dawn again the next morning and get this show over with, and hit the sack.
They left the next morning with a cup of bad coffee from the hotel in their cup holders and drove a couple of hours before stopping for breakfast. Ten hours later Cole was pulling into the Holiday Inn, Bordeaux in Fayetteville, North Carolina. They checked in and got a burger and fries at the McDonalds next door. After a couple of beers in the hotel bar, they hit the sack with plans to go to breakfast at the K & W Cafeteria in the morning at 0730. They wanted to get to the Center and G2 everything before the heavy rank arrived. When they arrived at the Foreign Military Assistance office the next morning, only a few civilians were present yet. They asked around and were finally directed to the office of a middle aged woman that wore a perpetual smile, Ms. Jenny Ponds.
"Hey guys, what can I do for you?"
"We're just reporting in TDY in route for assignment to Fort Devens." Jake explained.
"Let me see your orders." She smiled.
She looked over the orders and her smile faded.
"You'll have to wait until some of the senior staff come in, guys."
"Is there something you're not telling us?" Cole said.
"I'm not telling you anything one way or another. Someone will be in to brief you. They should be arriving any time now. We've got a break room next door. Why don't you two grab a cup of coffee and wait there?"
Cole and Jake went into the break room and poured coffee into paper cups and took a seat at a fancy picnic table.
"This doesn't feel right. I think we're about to get the big green weenie." Jake said.
They sat there, sipping their coffee for about ten minutes when they heard the hated words, "MORTON, BOYLE! GET YOUR ASSES IN HERE!"
That voice could come from only one man….T.J. Hooker.
They threw their cups in the trash and hurried out into the hall. Hooker, now a Command Sergeant Major, was standing in a doorway.
"In here!"
Cole and Jake hurried into the office and stood at Parade Rest in front of the CSM's desk.
"At Ease. Take a seat."
CSM Hooker grinned. "Welcome back to the real world gentlemen. How was your vacation?"
"It was good Sergeant Major." Jake said.
"From the reports I received, you both did extremely well."
"Yes, Sergeant Major."
"The reason you're here is we have a unit that supports the intelligence agencies that I think you two would be better serving in at this time."
"But Sergeant Major…."
"Just wait, let me finish."
"Now, this is a purely a volunteer assignment. That's why I volunteered you two."
"But Sergeant Major…"
"What is it Boyle.?"
"Sergeant Major, I wanted to get on a team."
"Why?"
"Well, I need to learn my job better and…"
"Boyle, I'd put you up against any Senior NCO on a team when it comes to knowing your job. This discussion is unclassified but I will tell you, you will see more action in the next two years than you'll see in five on an A-Team."
Cole looked over at Jake, who shrugged.
Cole nodded, acquiescing to the Sergeant Major's "request."
"Excellent!"
Hooker pull two sheets of paper out of the top drawer of his desk and slid them before the two men.
"Report to this address and they will handle you from there. You two will be going through a selection course which neither should have any problem going through, unless you get shot."
Cole and Jake snapped a look of surprise at Hooker.
Hooker smiled. "Just kidding, there will be some shooting but you two shouldn't have any problems if I'm to go by past performance." Hooker slid two cards across the desk.
"This is my number you can reach me at, 24/7, if you run into any problems. There won't be any problems, will there?"
"No Sergeant Major!" The two men echoed.
"Good! Now it's about a five hour drive and you don't have to be there until Monday, so have a good weekend and stay out of trouble." Jake and Cole walked out of the building more confused than before.
"I still don't know why we had to report here." Cole said.
"Compartmentalization, my friend. That's probably not even Hooker's office. There's a hell of a lot more going on than we are privy to right now. We'll get read on somewhere down the line."
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Post by NCWEBNUT on Mar 21, 2022 17:18:19 GMT -6
I've never been in the Military, but I was a Army Brat, and learned at a early age the value of a Coke and peanut power meal, My Dad preferred Coke over Pepsi, His addition to that was to add two aspirin to alleviate the pain of "strenuous effort" as he would call it, Great memory's of the Long gone Master Sergeant.
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Post by gipsy on Mar 21, 2022 18:19:34 GMT -6
Thanks for the update.
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ydderf2
Member
"I'm from the government and here to help" hahahaha
Posts: 321
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Post by ydderf2 on Mar 21, 2022 18:32:53 GMT -6
Thanks
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Post by bluefox2 on Mar 21, 2022 19:09:39 GMT -6
I smell the old Delta Force unit coming out in this story.
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