Three Squads

There were three squads in my unit, and three Sergeants.

One of the guys in my squad, happened to be from Chicago, said that when he got back to the States he was going to buy an American Flag and use it as his bathroom rug so he could piss on it every day. This caused quit a stir among the gung ho guys, desecrating the flag.

I stood up in his defense. I pointed out that he was here, in Nam, paying his dues not hiding in Canada. I felt he had earned the right to do that if he so desired. That’s how I became a “Commie Pinko Fag”.

My squad leader was pretty reasonable, unlike the other two Sergeants. Both of them told me, in private of course, that the first thing they would do in a fire fight was to locate me and kill me. MY Sergeant was much more understanding. He told me that he would only shoot me if it ever even looked like I was going to run. That’s a big courage builder there, knowing that there is no retreat.

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