Filed by our senior East coast editor-in-chief, dustoff Bruce comes up once again with the quintessential humor we associate with a lifer. You have to serve at least twenty years to witness every eventuality. I rate this credible. I lived at Langley AFB which was right around the corner from Ft. Eustis. Hampton Roads is a hotbed of military bases.
The rain was pouring down and there was a big puddle in front of a bar just outside Fort Eustis Army Base in Hampton Virginia
An old Navy Senior Chief, wearing his Chief ball cap, was squatting down near the edge of the puddle with a fishing rod, his line in the puddle. He was drenched and wore no protective gear.
A freshly minted young Army Captain proudly sporting his new O-3 railroad tracks stopped and asked what the demented sailor was doing.
‘Fishing,’ the Chief replied staring straight ahead stoically.
‘Old Timer’s disease’, the Army Captain mentally diagnosed. In a fit of Christmas cheer that infects even the most narcissistic during this season, he invited the bedraggled Chief into the bar for a stiff drink.
After getting their whiskies, the Captain thanked him for his service. The chief likewise retoasted him and they sat for a minute awkwardly as only officers and enlisted men can. The haughty Captain finally couldn’t resist a moment longer.
“And just how many fish have you caught this afternoon?’
“Counting you? Eight.” the salty old dog answered with a slow southern chuckle.
Christmas wouldn’t be complete with a few creatures stirring.
Laugh, laugh, thought I’d die it seemed so funny to me.