Stories
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
Sgt Smarty E5, about five-ten, heavy black hair, combed in a wave, just slightly on the chubby-side who had an Italian sports car, and drove it with brown leather racing gloves. The first guy I ever met who drove with gloves; and that was actually the sum of his personality. He was child-like, seemed to be sports-car-ing like in the movies. He told me he smoked filtered light cigarettes. I told him that was a mistake. You will smoke twice as many. Smoke a strong cigarette and you won't need to smoke as many, the affect lasting longer. So apparently I was already formulating my rules for smoking. No telling him though. How was this childlike guy disarming bombs? Was it a hero-complex ? Look at me girls. That's something to tell the women. Sweet guy though, just kind of simple as struck me.
Dis-harm bombs, am I crazy ? I'm just a clerk in circumstance. I had seen the movies, the World War II bomb found un-exploded, in the basement of an apartment building, and every breath taking moment. But there is something to it. Who could do it? These guys could and I was playing volley ball with them. There was Sgt Smirf E6. He was older, five-nine, soft-stocky, dark- hair; looked older than his years, soft-spoken. His body didn't seem to match his mind.
Capt Whereins was tall, perfect weight for his height. He was one of the guys. He had to be. He spent six hours a day with them. He was the lead guy. He didn't send someone else. He went himself, with his trusty side-kick Sgt Ready. He radioed back the description of the bomb. I wrote it down, every word as a record, of what went wrong; if what went wrong.
(13 of 25)
Next Page
