BusterStronghart@Gmail.com
An example of the perception and quick analysis of St Eve
Sidney Greenstreet
Sidney was portly and he gurgled when he laughed. His hair was thin and his legs were spindly. He was sinister in a comforting way and his cruelty was forced upon him.
Yes, I can live with the similarity but I would like to mix in a bit of Orson Welles as Falstaff, comic with a corruptible sense of honor, fat, lazy and eager to party, a scoundrel who fails at most of his dishonorable deeds -- and he knows about humiliation.
But is above all witty and capable of great affection.
ss
Just like you, St Eve.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
BusterStronghart@Gmail.com
Army days: In the six month army, I first shot the M-1 rifle, with which I could hit the target at least one out of twenty shots; I think we were shown the M-14, but I didn't play with it; When I got to tank school, at Fort Knox, I learned the 30 cal carbine; then I shot a very ugly submachine gun, called the M-3 Grease Gun, which often jammed; and the great M1911 45 cal pistol (developed, we were told, to stop-in-their-tracks fanatic Phillipino Guerillas, who could be hit with the smaller Colt and keep on ticking); a 30 cal tank mounted machine gun; a 50 cal machine gun, also tank mounted; and the 90mm main gun on the M-48 tank. I also fired, but did not learn to use, the 105mm main gun on the newly developed, still in testing, M60 tank.
Sgt. (Bulldog) Drummand, nearly retired, also showed me how to convert my 50 cal tank mounted machine gun to a sniper rifle, which would have been useful when my tank was blown up and if, by miracle, I was still alive. I am not sure but I think I also used a BAR in Basic. Or maybe at tank school.
I never learned to see where the shell landed after I fired it on the 90mm or the 105mm, as my eyes always involuntarily closed when the gun went BOOM! In conformatory with Army practice, thus I was made a tank commander and a gunnery instructor.
As a T-C my role was to watch the trajectory of the shell as it hurtled toward the target (often a junked car or truck) through the reticle of my periscope and instruct the gunner to move the gun so many clicks on his reticle. I was excellent at shouting "up one, left two" no matter where the shell landed.
At the tank gunnery range it seemed that emphasis was put upon firing all issued shells, so we wouldn't have to bring them back, and the Sgts. wouldn't have to do the paper work. Actually hitting the target was often over-looked.
I was also able to take apart and put together all weapons in the dark, except the 90mm and the 105mm guns, which were too heavy for a boy from Forest Hills.
One of the interesting things about Basic Training was that I learned that in comparison with the almost every one of the guys I was in great shape. When they were dropping out of marching, or not making the pull ups, or push ups, I found it easy to keep going. I was surprised. I was also shocked that many could not swim. A number were homesick, even though we were only in Kentucky.
At tank school there were several men (boys) who did not have drivers' licenses, and whose first driving experience was in a tank. One of my gunners fired the main gun without moving away from the breech. He called out FIRE! and pushed the button, or pulled the trigger, I forget which. He made no sound when the gun smashed into his stomach. That's when I learned about gut wounds.
It was after lunch and there was no way to tell what was guts and what was frankfurters.
mek
Army days: In the six month army, I first shot the M-1 rifle, with which I could hit the target at least one out of twenty shots; I think we were shown the M-14, but I didn't play with it; When I got to tank school, at Fort Knox, I learned the 30 cal carbine; then I shot a very ugly submachine gun, called the M-3 Grease Gun, which often jammed; and the great M1911 45 cal pistol (developed, we were told, to stop-in-their-tracks fanatic Phillipino Guerillas, who could be hit with the smaller Colt and keep on ticking); a 30 cal tank mounted machine gun; a 50 cal machine gun, also tank mounted; and the 90mm main gun on the M-48 tank. I also fired, but did not learn to use, the 105mm main gun on the newly developed, still in testing, M60 tank.
Sgt. (Bulldog) Drummand, nearly retired, also showed me how to convert my 50 cal tank mounted machine gun to a sniper rifle, which would have been useful when my tank was blown up and if, by miracle, I was still alive. I am not sure but I think I also used a BAR in Basic. Or maybe at tank school.
I never learned to see where the shell landed after I fired it on the 90mm or the 105mm, as my eyes always involuntarily closed when the gun went BOOM! In conformatory with Army practice, thus I was made a tank commander and a gunnery instructor.
As a T-C my role was to watch the trajectory of the shell as it hurtled toward the target (often a junked car or truck) through the reticle of my periscope and instruct the gunner to move the gun so many clicks on his reticle. I was excellent at shouting "up one, left two" no matter where the shell landed.
At the tank gunnery range it seemed that emphasis was put upon firing all issued shells, so we wouldn't have to bring them back, and the Sgts. wouldn't have to do the paper work. Actually hitting the target was often over-looked.
I was also able to take apart and put together all weapons in the dark, except the 90mm and the 105mm guns, which were too heavy for a boy from Forest Hills.
One of the interesting things about Basic Training was that I learned that in comparison with the almost every one of the guys I was in great shape. When they were dropping out of marching, or not making the pull ups, or push ups, I found it easy to keep going. I was surprised. I was also shocked that many could not swim. A number were homesick, even though we were only in Kentucky.
At tank school there were several men (boys) who did not have drivers' licenses, and whose first driving experience was in a tank. One of my gunners fired the main gun without moving away from the breech. He called out FIRE! and pushed the button, or pulled the trigger, I forget which. He made no sound when the gun smashed into his stomach. That's when I learned about gut wounds.
It was after lunch and there was no way to tell what was guts and what was frankfurters.
mek
Friday, April 06, 2007
BusterStronghart@Gmail.com
Maria's making charoses
She's using Dubonnet
You might think it to be atrocious
But it's better than Chardonnay.
mek
Maria's making charoses
She's using Dubonnet
You might think it to be atrocious
But it's better than Chardonnay.
mek
BusterStronghart@Gmail.com
Maria's making charoses
She's using Dubonnet
You might think it to be atrocious
But it's better than Chardonnay.
mek
Maria's making charoses
She's using Dubonnet
You might think it to be atrocious
But it's better than Chardonnay.
mek
Thursday, April 05, 2007
BusterStronghart@Gmail.com
"Indignation is the most gratifying of emotions. Nothing is quite so soothing as the feeling of superiority over sinners who have committed offenses that we are sure to innocent of and allow us to purse our lips in disdain: another giant with feet of clay. "
Peter Clay -- following the confession by Gunther Grass that he had served as a boy of seventeen in the Waffen SS, the highly trained Nazi combat unit that took part in the Holocaust.
"Indignation is the most gratifying of emotions. Nothing is quite so soothing as the feeling of superiority over sinners who have committed offenses that we are sure to innocent of and allow us to purse our lips in disdain: another giant with feet of clay. "
Peter Clay -- following the confession by Gunther Grass that he had served as a boy of seventeen in the Waffen SS, the highly trained Nazi combat unit that took part in the Holocaust.
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