Dan tells the story about how when they got back from Desert Storm, we had so many new TURDs(Trainee Under Rigorous Development) that they couldn’t remember their names. One of the old school hats, may have been Tim Bingham, started giving them numbers, those number became the Rookie numbers we all know and love now……..
St. Mere Eglise, DZ to the Stars…….. An essay by William MarshallAKA, Elevator DZ, SF Only, Casa la Casa 212……….If you know you know, St. Mere Eglise, DZ to the stars…….
My vision for Heroes I Know………. An essay by William Marshall My generation is beginning to schedule doctor’s appointments more often than we schedule date nights. We are starting to feel the hurts, the pains, the cancers, the tumors, the results of all our hard falls and sudden stupidity.Because of this, we have realized thatContinue reading “My vision for Heroes I Know…….. An essay by William Marshall”
Lost NVGs, ANCD in Mott Lake, Statues of Limitations……. An essay by William MarshallThere are so many things that wonder about. What was the real truth? We had a drowning, a suicide, lost equipment, found equipment in the weirdest of places. We had a Soldier stealing from the Supply Room. 1SG Hilton said his momContinue reading “Lost NVGs, ANCD in Mott Lake, “Statues” of Limitations……. An essay by William Marshall”
Sicily, Normandy, Salerno, Holland……… An essay by William MarshallIf those names ring a bell, then you and me have spent time together, probably in the air in the middle of the night. Seems like 0200 time on target with a 20 minute block time over Sicily would be the most common although Holland seemed toContinue reading “Sicily, Normandy, Salerno, Holland……… An essay by William Marshall”
Ginger’s main most thing was spaghetti sauce. She would always say that was her best dish. She bought all the ingredients, the little cans of tomatoes, the spices. She would slave over the stove for nothing else but her spaghetti sauce. Other than that, she really couldn’t care about cooking. Salt and pepper were optionalContinue reading “Gourmet Sauce……. An essay by William Marshall”
The road to my uncle’s house in Montgomery was a winding one. It was some county road in South East Alabama that surely has a name. I don’t know what it is. I can only remember crossing that same bridge over and over. It was named Narrow Bridge. I was of such a height andContinue reading “Narrow bridge……. An essay by William Marshall”
When I was a kid, one the biggest adventures that I took part in was crappie fishing at night with my dad and uncles. There was this one spot on the lake where all the best fisherman seemed to line up at night and catch the big ones. It was under the bridge that crossedContinue reading “Fishing under the bridge……. An essay by William Marshall”
“If you ain’t Airborne, You ain’t shit!”, that’s what I told the Command Sergeants Major. There were seven of them in front of me and one behind me. I was responding to the question, “why did you want to be Airborne?” I was in the middle of the Non-Commissioned Officer of the Year board forContinue reading “If you ain’t Airborne, You ain’t Shit……… An essay by William Marshall”
“Your momma wears a mattress on her back!”, yep, that’s what he said. I think he might have been looking at me. My First Sergeant, his name was Pascal Hilton. He was a tall and lean man with a chiseled face. He talked with a kind of forward lean in his words that just madeContinue reading “Your momma wears a mattress on her back……. An essay by William Marshall “”