I thought I'd share a personal story with y'all tonight about when I was in the Persian Gulf war.
My squad was on a chopper a few clicks south of Hanoi. (did I mention there was alcohol involved?)
Chopper got shot down and I was the only survivor of the crash. I made it out with a case of beer, a machete, the field radio, and my trusty M-60. So I called HQ to abort the mission and send a ride to get me out of the LZ. While I waited, I went to work on the case of beer.
While I was waiting on reinforcements and working on the case, 100 enemy troops suddenly appeared out of nowhere and attacked.
I grabbed up the M-60 and gave 'em hell. I took out 70 in a fierce firefight before the ammo ran out. I threw the gun down and retreated as the rest moved in on my position. All I had now was the machete. I snuck around the left flank and charged full speed with the jungle blade. Twenty fell to the swinging blade in my hands. Then the blade broke and I had to again retreat.
The ten surviving soldiers regrouped and immediately charged my position. I fought with every ounce of strength and determination I could muster. At last, a hundred dead enemy bodies lay strewn about and a Huey landed nearby to take me home.
The moral of the story: Don't mess with me when I've been drinking!
mike.
Expect nothing and you will never be disappointed,