So Barker decided he wanted to grow his own stuff instead of buying from the local dealer. I mean, he had this little plant in this clay pot, right, and he kept it under his cot in the barracks. Then the barracks got his with this bomb, like large immobile buildings tend to do in wars. Napalm or something. Of course the platoon was out on patrol at the time. So we got back and there's our barracks, a smoldering pile of junk, right? Then this guy from another unit comes over and hands the potted reefer to Barker. One of the leaves had broken off, but it was alive. I was so shocked you could have knocked me over with a dirty look.

But that wasn't as strange as the weasel.

You see, Davies got this weasel a few months back. He traded an officer six packs of Reds for the little rat. I don't know why, but that doesn't matter. So Davies had this weasel and one day he leaves it in his backpack when the platoon went out on patrol, right? Then we run in to an enemy squad and we start shooting, like we're supposed to. I found out later that the weasel jumped out of Davies backpack, right, and it runs toward a big deal log. So Davies said a mortar shell went off on top of the dead tree with the weasel right there, burrowing it's fuzzy little head into and crack in the bark. He said he was sad at the time that his weasel bought the farm.

Two minutes later the damn rat crawls out from under the splintered bits of the log and back into Davies' backpack.

Sure, it was hurt. Broken paw and all. But it lived.

Damn rat.

It wasn't till several months later that I says to Davies, I says, know know it's that damn rat that started all my problems. Before you go that flea-infested fur ball, guys used to die like real men.

Things really got strange when the tank ran out of gas. I mean, who ever heard of a tank running out of gas? Your whole life you grow up watching these war movies and only the planes ever run out of gas, not the tanks. Of course, no one would have cared about the fuel capacity of the tank if Clark hadn't been on the ground.

In front of it.

With a broken leg.

About to be squashed.

So the tank is just ambling along obliviously, right? And it sputters to a halt. We jumped up from behind out cover and hauled off Clark. His leg got better.

And who ever put a parachute in a helicopter? I mean, you can't eject out of a helicopter at least not without getting a real close shave and it's generally accepted that if the helicopter goes

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