View Full Version : Tell Us About Your Adventures
Doc Safari
05-31-18, 11:20
I know a lot of you have real adventure stories--things that happened to you that haunt you to this day, made you glad to be alive, or in general was the most fun you ever had doing something out of the ordinary. Some things you've done you know you can never repeat, like a real big game hunt in Africa, or being the last person to visit a certain place before it was gone.
Care to post some of your stories?
I'd have to check the statute of limitations first....
Well, one time in band camp.....
RetroRevolver77
05-31-18, 12:03
Spent a combined total of roughly five years- over a twenty one year period living in a remote region of the North Eastern portion of the continent while growing up.
My dad surprised me one day in the summer my junior year in high school, we flew to San Diego, and we rented matching Harleys and rode up HWY 1 all the way to Eureka stopping in all the coastal towns along the way. Then we flew to Guam, and traveled to Solomon Islands on a sea plane and the Marshall Islands and spent 2 weeks wreck diving on Japanese Zeros, Grumman Hellcats, Vought Corsairs and medium Navy/Japanese Ships from WW2. We slept in huts on the beach, stayed on a boat for a few days, it was awesome. This was special because my dad did not do stuff like this with me. He would take my sister to New York and then to Paris to go shopping for a week or send her to Coachella or Miami and he would rent a yacht and take my mom to Australia for a month or take her to Italy or the south of France but he never did stuff like that with me. My dad gave me several high end Beretta shotguns over my life and not once invited me to go hunting with him, so this was a treat. That was a one time thing but I remember it like it was yesterday and I would love to do something like that again..
Averageman
05-31-18, 13:24
My dad surprised me one day in the summer my junior year in high school, we flew to San Diego, and we rented matching Harleys and rode up HWY 1 all the way to Eureka stopping in all the coastal towns along the way. Then we flew to Guam, and traveled to Solomon Islands on a sea plane and the Marshall Islands and spent 2 weeks wreck diving on Japanese Zeros, Grumman Hellcats, Vought Corsairs and medium Navy/Japanese Ships from WW2. We slept in huts on the beach, stayed on a boat for a few days, it was awesome. This was special because my dad did not do stuff like this with me. He would take my sister to New York and then to Paris to go shopping for a week or send her to Coachella or Miami and he would rent a yacht and take my mom to Australia for a month or take her to Italy or the south of France but he never did stuff like that with me. My dad gave me several high end Beretta shotguns over my life and not once invited me to go hunting with him, so this was a treat. That was a one time thing but I remember it like it was yesterday and I would love to do something like that again..
It could be worse, my Dads idea of how to spend a four day weekend was for me to strip shingles off of the roof and then carry bundles of new shingles up a ladder to him.
I was like 14 maybe at the time. I'm not sure how it can be done, but he was able to get irritated at me for not carrying bundles up the ladder fast enough after I had been at it three or four hours.
So my adventure as a young man was learning just how to work hard and fast enough to not get that crazy Old SOB irritated at me.
Doc Safari
05-31-18, 13:29
I'm not sure how it can be done, but he was able to get irritated at me for not carrying bundles up the ladder fast enough after I had been at it three or four hours.
So my adventure as a young man was learning just how to work hard and fast enough to not get that crazy Old SOB irritated at me.
I had a similar childhood. In dad's eyes, it was never good enough. We watered trees and if the water wasn't perfectly level with the berm (i.e. didn't run over or wasn't to the top of the berm) he got pissed. There were many other examples. He was verbally abusive to all of us. He even made the statement to my mom many times that he didn't think my brother and I should be allowed to eat if we didn't do chores.
Now, I'm all in favor of getting kids to do chores and a small allowance is cool too, but not wanting us to eat?
I wonder now what would have happened if I'd reported him to CPS when I was about ten. How differently would my life have turned out? Would it have caused my mom to divorce him (she almost did anyway)? Would he have started abusing us for "daring" to try to get him in trouble with the law?
As it turns out we got along famously for the last 15 years or so of his life, so there was no hate there when he passed, but for a two to three year period when I was young I could have proudly shot him dead without a single regret.
one of the you cant even pay to do it if you wanted to was to dive and take photos on the USS Arizona :) quite a honor and something pretty much only a few folks have done
bad scan need to rescan all my old film stuff
Japanese soldier Micronesia (Chuuk aka Truk Lagoon)
https://www.m4carbine.net/attachment.php?attachmentid=52273&d=1512697546
had a good life full of fun adventures
52273
I have a whole bunch of shitty, anticlimactic adventures.
Here's one:
Once upon a time, back in the mists of the year 2004 when I was in my early twenties, there was a dating site called Lavalife.
On this site I became acquainted with a girl named Becky. We messaged on the site for a bit and eventually started emailing instead. Finally one day we decided to meet. Since we lived about an hour apart we decided to meet each other at a mutual halfway point and do... something, I really didn't have much of a plan.
Complicating matters was the weather, which turned out to be shitty, in fact, I had left my car windows open by accident and the seats were wet, so I had gotten a white bath towel and tried to dry the seats as best I could, then chucked the towel in back (This becomes important later on).
I met Becky at the parking lot of a movie theater. We hugged hello. She looked OK. I had seen pics of her before so it's not like I wasn't sure what to expect or anything. She wasn't really unattractive but she was nothing to write home about. The important thing was that she wasn't fat, because I had always promised myself I'd never get involved with a fat chick.
Well one thing that hadn't been made clear in the photos is that Becky had one of those really gummy smiles....like when she smiled her lips pulled back really far and exposed a lot of teeth and gum. I decided to press on however.
So like I said we couldn't do much outside due to the bad weather. We briefly discussed seeing a movie, since we had met in the parking lot of a theater, but didn't bother. We had lunch at a pizza place and basically just drove around because we had nothing to do. She implied that her parents wanted her to be gone for a while so they could have sex without her in the house....
Eventually I drove us down to the ocean and we parked the car. If the damp seats were causing her discomfort she didn't make it known. There was an island in the distance that I decided I wanted to look more closely at, so I opened the center console in my car to retrieve my crappy little $10 Tasco binoculars. I also had a Glock field knife in there (Thankfully it was the 78, not the model 81 with the serrated "root saw" back, you'll see why in a moment.).* So I pointed it out to Becky that I had an "Austrian army combat knife" in there. She said something to the effect of "Ooh let me see" and reached for it. I looked away for a moment, distracted by a car or something, and started to say "Yeah hang on a sec and I'll show you how to get that out if the sheath."
Well the Glock field knife's method of retention in the sheath can, for the uninitiated, make it tricky to draw. Also potentially dangerous if you aren't careful.
Becky wasn't.
Next thing I hear is "Oh my God I just cut myself"
Boy did she ever. She had been pulling hard trying to free the knife from the sheath, when she finally hit the retention mechanism and the knife popped out and slashed her across the middle finger of her left hand.
She was bleeding everywhere. Well fortunately in back I had the towel I had used to dry the seats that morning and she at least was able to wrap her hand up in it.
At this point she started crying too, apparently as much from embarrassment as from pain or fear, because she meekly remarked that usually she was good with knives.
Our next stop was a convenience store where I bought a ton of gauze and band aids. I offered to take her to the hospital but she declined. She did however express a desire for a cigarette. I informed her I didn't want anyone smoking in my car so I drove her to a park where she could have a cigarette under a gazebo.
Unbelievably the date wasn't over, perhaps because she was concerned that if she returned home too early she might walk in on her parents in flagrante delicto, or maybe I was just really charming.
Eventually we went to a strip mall and walked around in a toy store. Despite her bandaged hand, she hula-hooped for a bit, which I found off-putting for some reason. Then we went back to the car and talked for awhile before I brought her back to her own vehicle. We did not kiss goodbye, but kinda left it at we would go out again at some point.
When she drove off, I remember hoping she made it home safely because if she went missing en route I would be the prime suspect and I had a towel and a knife with her blood all over them in my car.
We emailed once after that terrible date. The exchange was friendly, though she did mention that she had no feeling in her cut finger. There was some talk of going out again, initiated by her, believe it or not. I however wasn't feeling it and more or less dumped her via email.
Not wanting to bring it back into the house and draw questions from my stepmother, the bloody towel found it's way into the trunk of my car and was forgotten, and later ended up getting transferred, along with everything else in there, to the trunk of a different vehicle where it spent the next several years. From there somehow it got into my apartment and made it into a laundry cycle. I think my current GF threw it in the wash, not realizing what the stains were....which is good because she has a blood phobia, and at the time (five or six years ago) she was pretty insecure about my relationship history. The stains obviously didn't come out. Eventually, during a thorough cleaning of the apartment a few years ago I came across the blood strained and realized I needed to get goddamn rid of that thing and threw it out without ever having to explain to my GF that the stains on it were some other chick's blood.
I do still have the Glock knife though.
Over a decade later I found out Becky and I had a mutual friend on Facebook, a girl I had gone to college with. I checked Becky's profile pics out and noted that she still didn't look all that great. So she hasn't changed much, I don't know if she ever regained the feeling in her sliced finger.
Currently Becky and I no longer have the friend in common though, as I unfriended the mutual friend after she made a particularly obnoxious series of Facebook posts.
Last year the wife and i went to an island in Panama.
We took an excursion that was 2 barefoot natives hiking us through the rainforest to a bat cave.
They had to clear the trail (with a machete) as we went as it was completely overgrown.
My wife thought there was a chance they would kill us back in the woods until they gave her a sharp walking stick.
I told her maybe they think its more fun when she can fight back. ;)
Saw a few poison frogs in the way, lots of cool scenery and seeing the village was an eye opening experience.
Did a lot of snorkeling and freediving there as well. Best trip Ive had yet, but we do a lot of free diving in the Caribbean.
It could be worse, my Dads idea of how to spend a four day weekend was for me to strip shingles off of the roof and then carry bundles of new shingles up a ladder to him.
I was like 14 maybe at the time. I'm not sure how it can be done, but he was able to get irritated at me for not carrying bundles up the ladder fast enough after I had been at it three or four hours.
So my adventure as a young man was learning just how to work hard and fast enough to not get that crazy Old SOB irritated at me.
I never knew my dad had a brother! He died when I was 17 and I miss him still.
Last year the wife and i went to an island in Panama.
We took an excursion that was 2 barefoot natives hiking us through the rainforest to a bat cave.
They had to clear the trail (with a machete) as we went as it was completely overgrown.
My wife thought there was a chance they would kill us back in the woods until they gave her a sharp walking stick.
I told her maybe they think its more fun when she can fight back. ;)
Saw a few poison frogs in the way, lots of cool scenery and seeing the village was an eye opening experience.
Did a lot of snorkeling and freediving there as well. Best trip Ive had yet, but we do a lot of free diving in the Caribbean.
being a scuba instructor for 15 years of my life free diving in the islands is a way of life :) used to be pretty good
could scratch the bottom at 100 ft + and hold my breathe for just over 4 minutes :) pretty much every single day we would go out and free dive fish for fun etc.
lived on Utila for a year dif side of the bay islands :) but this was a while ago now
fun to see some other folks love it to :)
Doc Safari
05-31-18, 15:13
Cue Indiana Jones theme....
1. One time my girlfriend and I decided to visit a well-known campsite out in the New Mexico desert. You basically leave the highway and then drive on a bumpy dirt road for another several miles to the actual campsite. We were pressed for time. It was already Sunday afternoon of a long weekend of activities, so I drove pretty fast down the dirt road in order to give us at least some time to have a picnic and look around. It was about two hours from sundown, so we didn't have time to waste. Thing is, there were quite a few cattle guards straddling that dirt road, and we must have hit one pretty hard. When we stopped the Jeep and got out, I could hear air hissing out of one of the rear tires. We are in the middle of nowhere on an isolated dirt road with not enough of a shoulder to change a flat and air is hissing out of this tire so fast you can hear it from several feet away. Luckily, I had a can of Fix-A-Flat in the Jeep. I injected it into the tire--but the hissing only slowed down--it didn't stop. The damage to the tire was such that the seal wasn't perfect. Great. We are about to be stranded in a known bear patrol area with a flat tire, no room to change it, and no alternative but to try to drive the bumpy dirt road back to the highway.
We jumped back in the Jeep, turned around by crashing into as much foliage as I needed to on that narrow road, and headed back down the dirt road to the paved highway. Of course, this time I had to slow down as we encountered each cattle guard so that I didn't take a chance on damaging another tire. Other than that, I floored it. Would we make it before the tire went completely flat or flew apart? Naturally, as we cleared the last cattle guard an old beat up pickup truck was ahead of us on the road. There was no room to pass him. We both poked our heads out the window, honking and shouting to the driver to let us by as best he could or at least speed up. He just ignored us. Probably thought we were a couple of assholes trying to cause trouble instead of two people in an emergency situation. It seemed like we had to follow that pickup for a couple of miles going no more than 15 or twenty miles an hour--all the time with air hissing out of the rear tire.
Finally, the pickup ahead of us got onto the paved highway and went the opposite direction from what we wanted to go. With another 36 miles even to reach the city limits, my girlfriend and I said a little prayer together while we kept going. We decided to chance it and not stop to change the tire ourselves. Both my girlfriend and I have trouble mustering the strength to budge those lug nuts since they are installed with pneumatic tools. I drove at a fast but moderate speed just in case we were to have a blowout and potentially lose control of the Jeep. One after another, we passed auto and tire shops that were closed on Sunday. At our wit's end, we decided we might just have to pull into a Wal-Mart parking lot and either try our best change the tire to that stupid little plastic emergency wheel, or say screw it until the next day and get a motel for the night.
As luck would have it, Wal-Mart's auto shop was about thirty minutes from closing---and amazingly they were able to repair the tire and didn't have to replace it. As we left Wal-Mart I second-guessed my decision to let them fix it. With another 70+ miles of highway to actually get home, I wondered through the entire journey if we would make it. We did, and those tires were close enough (to me) to needing replacement that I bought four new tires less than a week later.
_________________________________
2. Out at the ranch I was headed out the door one day to head to town, and as I stepped through the front door, I felt my foot touch something soft. Instinctively, I jumped over the "object", and looked back to see the screen door swinging as a rattlesnake crawled INTO THE HOUSE. As fast as I could, I lunged at the screen door and closed it hard on the snake's tail. As I looked down only about a foot of tail was left sticking out of the doorway. The rest of the snake was already in the house, trapped by the screen door. WTF do I do now? There's a ******** rattlesnake halfway in the house and my only weapon is, well,.....nothing.
I went to the tool shed. I grabbed the pitchfork and went back to the front door. Can you guess what happened next? I carefully poked one of the tines through the fattest part of the snake's tail. Then, with the pitchfork handle in one hand and the screen door handle in the other, I must have counted "One....two...THREE" before I yanked open the door and yanked the snake out by its impaled body. The snake landed three of four feed away...as mad as Hell but dying. I knew it was mortally wounded but still able to bite. I went back in the house and got my .410 shotgun and turned the snake's head into jelly. I wear snakeproof boots at the ranch now.
I've got more, but I don't want to make this post any longer. I might post more later. Y'all might not believe the ghost story anyway.
I had a similar childhood. In dad's eyes, it was never good enough. We watered trees and if the water wasn't perfectly level with the berm (i.e. didn't run over or wasn't to the top of the berm) he got pissed. There were many other examples. He was verbally abusive to all of us. He even made the statement to my mom many times that he didn't think my brother and I should be allowed to eat if we didn't do chores.
Now, I'm all in favor of getting kids to do chores and a small allowance is cool too, but not wanting us to eat?
I wonder now what would have happened if I'd reported him to CPS when I was about ten. How differently would my life have turned out? Would it have caused my mom to divorce him (she almost did anyway)? Would he have started abusing us for "daring" to try to get him in trouble with the law?
As it turns out we got along famously for the last 15 years or so of his life, so there was no hate there when he passed, but for a two to three year period when I was young I could have proudly shot him dead without a single regret.
My dad was similar. Long story, short... He became a tolerable human being when he retired and got out from under the family business that he hated. He's super healthy so I'm sure I'll get another decade of time. Oddly enough, I bought the business from him and enabled my parents to retire. Unlike him, I love the business and have a great relationship with my kids.
Back to the topic..Living in Alaska makes having an adventurous life easy. I've take a 16' skiff up the Alaskan portion of the Yukon River. I've been in a couple small airplane crashes. I've snowmobiled all over the state into mountain ranges few others have tread. I've hunted brown bears and moose in thick brush and on open tundra.... I make it a point to yearly do something new.
An adventure that I don't want to repeat:
I was several miles out riding my desert bike. Several days before I had read an article in either Dirt Bike or MX Action about doing downhill jumps. The gist of the article was 'get the front wheel down as quick as possible.' I had found a suitable location and was practicing this. The first several times had gone smoothly and I was building speed and getting a little more confident.
On what would be the last trip, I pushed the bike, I don't think I was in sixth, but I was moving. I overdid it and I landed the front wheel with the rear way too high, over the bars I went, and for a brief moment I was flying through the air with the bike overhead. I distinctly heard it winding down 'wing, ding, ding, ding' and thought 'this is gonna hurt' before I hit.
I found myself laying face down, my right shoulder/neck area felt funny, I thought damn, I wonder if I've broke my neck. One way to find out, I moved my head and about pee'ed as I found out, no it wasn't my neck. Getting up was a chore, once up I tucked my right hand into my waistband and set about getting the bike upright. It was quite the ordeal, no kickstand on race bikes. Other than the bars being bent there didn't seem to be much mechanical damage, the seat was torn up, but that was about it. I got it into neutral and started pushing toward home. Pushing got old fast. Will the bike start? Yep. Clutch in, snick it into first, ease out clutch, a couple shudders forward and it dies. Okay, pretty risky, but maybe reach across to run the throttle and punch it into gear sans clutch. Bingo. Seemed like forever but finally got to the back of the housing area. I clunked to a stop at the first house and asked for a ride to the dispensary.
At the dispensary they figured out my collar bone was busted in several places, they told me I'd have to have surgery, and trucked me off to Washoe Medical Center. I should add, that this took place while I was an active duty Marine, stationed in Hawthorne, Nevada. I made the 135 mile trip (IIRC) in a government sedan full of codeine pills supplied by the dental tech.
Once I got to the ER I was kind of chilling thinking about how nice it would be to get cleaned up and get fixed in the morning. They had cut my jersey off and I had made the trip with a blanket around my shoulders. A doctor shows up, pokes and prods and then begins to put this foam/nylon contraption around my shoulders. I'm thinking it is a brace to support me until the morning. All of a sudden this guy yanks it tight, once again with the almost peeing, they shoot an xray, say good to go, and my butt is back on the way to Hawthorne, I still have on my desert leathers with gravel down my ass, and I imagine stink to high heaven.
Back home, the wife helped me shower, and I settled down for the night. As time passed, I noticed that my son was learning to walk holding his arm across his front like mine was strapped across my chest. One good thing came from this - I got promoted to Sergeant while my collarbone was healing, so I avoided getting my stripes pounded in.
I thought I would mention something that I don't really talk about much. I am the person single handedly responsible for burning down the Bass Pro Shops rifle range in Grapevine in 2005. Its a long story but I was locked in the rifle range by my self during the fire for approximately 1 minute and the attendant had walked out. It was a big fire, caused over a million dollars worth of damage. The fire department stated that there ventilation system was not working at the time and they had not cleaned to rife chamber and the safety lock was not up to code.
After being treated for minor burns to my hands and arms and smoke inhalation for 30 minutes, a manager brought a cordless phone to me and at the other line was John Morris, the CEO of bass pro who was calling me from his airplane apologizing. Needless to say, I was taken care of. I was given some money as a "were terribly sorry" and "hope you get well soon" present. They were all very professional and nice to me. I still shop there to this day and some people still remember me. To this day they tell customers that the reason for the fire was someone was shooting black powder, that is a lie. I was shooting a Remington 700. The fire was caused by built up un burned gun powder in the rifle tube that is supposed to be ventilated into a explosion proof box in the rear of the range. The fire started in the back of the range and blew through the tube knocking me over and shooting flames melting the glass roof.
Oh, and I've gone out with Miley Cyrus.
Averageman
05-31-18, 17:54
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jQDw0jwlQPc
I was with the 2nd AD, Tiger Brigade and Commanded an Abrams Tank in to this. This video was remarkably sanitized as you're seeing a very, very few number of the bodies that were actually on the ground when we first got there.
We got ready to go and crossed the LD breaching the minefields with the USMC Tanks M60's. We all had the same mine plows and roller systems. I remember looking to my left and seeing a Marine Corps Tank that had hit a mine and they were giving each other First Aid on top of the turret. It was a pretty helpless feeling as your main gun remained over the side and we could only move at about 3 mph. I spent about 30 minutes expecting either to hit a mine or take a round to the turret as we crossed.
We made it all the way through what we expected was the entire extent of the minefield and took up a defensive position to cover the guys crossing behind us. I lifted the plow, moved forward about 500 meters and dropped the plow again and hit a hell of a mine. We got shook up pretty good and lost the right side main beam of the mine plow and our track adjusting arm was damaged (bent), luckily we were all pretty much good to go.
Once we made effective repairs we caught up, and raced toward Kuwait City with the rest of the Brigade. We helped secure a field hospital that was taking fire one night by Iraqi Infantry, My gunner got a few scattered kills along the way, a Tank, a few APC's and an Artillery piece.
It was exciting and a hell of a wake up call to the reality of modern tank warfare.
5 June 88 Normandy, France. D-Day commemorations.
C-130 Hercules. Jump doors open. "Your door, Army!" Jumpmasters shout out jump commands. 13+ knots airspeed on the ground. Jump is a go anyway. We are all in combat gear and equipped with B7 life preservers just in case since the English Channel is less than 1000 meters away from the DZ. Green light! Loadmaster just happens to be handy with a bugle and he plays the cavalry charge as we rush out the doors. A few seconds later we hit the ground. Welcome to Ste. Mere Eglise! French people were all over, shaking our hands, offering us wine, cheese and bread. DZ was a cow pasture. One unlucky trooper got dragged across a heap of cow patties. Everyone stayed away from him the whole road march into town. His name was Alphonse Nitti, great grand nephew of Frank Nitti, Al Capone's right hand man. After ceremonies we got to tour Ste. Mere Eglise, the beach heads, Pointe du Hoc, Cherbourg and Arromanches. Got to meet a former member of the British Parachute Test Platoon.
being a scuba instructor for 15 years of my life free diving in the islands is a way of life :) used to be pretty good
could scratch the bottom at 100 ft + and hold my breathe for just over 4 minutes :) pretty much every single day we would go out and free dive fish for fun etc.
lived on Utila for a year dif side of the bay islands :) but this was a while ago now
fun to see some other folks love it to :)
Wow, most i can do is 20-25 ft after swimming out to the spot.
The guy we went with in Panama disappeared for nearly 5 mins. Apparently was one of the best in the world years ago and was featured in NatGeographic at one point.
I've done some stuff...some of which I amazingly got away with...most of which could never be done today without serious repercussions.
Nightvisionary
06-03-18, 09:54
Circumnavigated the planet at age 19 aboard the USS Enterprise in 1989(CVN-65). Along the way we had overflights of Soviet Bear bombers near the Bering Sea closely followed by F14 Tomcats, made port visits to Hong Kong, Philippines, Singapore, Thailand, Rio De Janiero, St. Thomas Virgin Islands.
During the month in the Philippines I was attending the U.S. Navy JEST school when the ship made an emergency departure to avoid damage from a cyclone that came through the islands. Immediately afterwards significant elements of the Philippine military initiated a major coup attempt against the Aquino government. The Enterprise conducted air operations in support of the Government while my small group of Marines were temporarily attached to the USMC Security Force Company at Subic bay. Base security duties were shared with a Philippine Marine contingent. Some Philippine Marine units had joined the coup so tensions were pretty high. Sometime either before or after all that a group of NPA insurgents infiltrated the base near the ship but were turned back.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jQDw0jwlQPc
I was with the 2nd AD, Tiger Brigade and Commanded an Abrams Tank in to this. This video was remarkably sanitized as you're seeing a very, very few number of the bodies that were actually on the ground when we first got there.
We got ready to go and crossed the LD breaching the minefields with the USMC Tanks M60's. We all had the same mine plows and roller systems. I remember looking to my left and seeing a Marine Corps Tank that had hit a mine and they were giving each other First Aid on top of the turret. It was a pretty helpless feeling as your main gun remained over the side and we could only move at about 3 mph. I spent about 30 minutes expecting either to hit a mine or take a round to the turret as we crossed.
We made it all the way through what we expected was the entire extent of the minefield and took up a defensive position to cover the guys crossing behind us. I lifted the plow, moved forward about 500 meters and dropped the plow again and hit a hell of a mine. We got shook up pretty good and lost the right side main beam of the mine plow and our track adjusting arm was damaged (bent), luckily we were all pretty much good to go.
Once we made effective repairs we caught up, and raced toward Kuwait City with the rest of the Brigade. We helped secure a field hospital that was taking fire one night by Iraqi Infantry, My gunner got a few scattered kills along the way, a Tank, a few APC's and an Artillery piece.
It was exciting and a hell of a wake up call to the reality of modern tank warfare.
A buddy of mine witnessed that highway too. Has a giant photo album that sometimes comes out when the whiskey flows.
One particularly shocking photo that sticks with me is of 3 skeletons sitting in the cab of a truck. Upright and otherwise undisturbed...save for the fact they are only skeletons.
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