My Truck II

Several years ago, I (um.. I mean a friend) was on a cross country flying to California. Along the way, he developed a mechanical problem and wound up diverting to a base in Texas where a Marine Reserve squadron was based. It was a Friday afternoon and a Gunnery Sergeant met me at the jet and told me that despite the fact that it was quitting time, they would take care of me. A few hours later, he was on my way—extremely grateful for their help.

A few days after that, he flew into the same base. As soon as he shut down, the same Gunny was there asking me if there was something wrong. “Yeah”, he told him, “something is stuck behind the ejection seat”. He climbed up the latter and saw that there were a couple of cases of beer. These guys gave up their Friday night to fix the jet and it was the least that I could do.

My truck was finally finished the other day. One of the guys that worked on it told me that had to replace everything under the floorboards to include the mud on the tires. They went well above and beyond the call to help me out.
Believe it or not, but there are liquor stores in Iraq, but if I showed up in the motor pool with a case or two, quite a few heads would roll. So, I went to Pizza Hut instead and bought a bunch of Pizzas for the guys. It was the least I could do for these guys.