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Yes. Flight instructor for 6 months, then USC School of Aerospace Safety at the behest of the Army prior to going back. Liked LA back then. Unlike some bars in 'Nam they never ran dry. Chicks were better looking too.

Why in Gods name would we want to do that....much more fun this way.

Dan, why did you have a belt of 7.62 over your shoulder while carrying a mag fed .45....you weren't posing for the girlfriend back home....were you?

Dan was so badass that he didn't need a weapon in 7.62.

He inserted the bullets in the enemy manually.

John

I believe it.

Bugger bad-arse....I would rather have the 60.

That M 60 was fun to have to qualify on once a year...

being Medical Corp and Med Support, I got to get trigger time on them multiple times a year...

maybe some of these younger guys can tell us how a SAWS ( M240) compares...if it does at all...

I have not played with the Minimi or Austeyr, I have handled a couple and was not that taken with either.
I am of the SLR (and 16 era).



Probably explains why I prefer wood and steel in my toys.

Easy now! He does pretty good for a primate.

Laffin'

I never knew Schmuck was a primate!

and here all along I thought he was one of those offspring that ET ( Phone Home fame) had fathered when he was on Shoreleave on earth back in the 80s...

darn it... ya learn something new every day!!!...

I still think Schmuck is more an alien than a primate... but hey...one can see the genetic resemblance..... just makes ya feel sorry for primates now to call him one of their own...

Might'a been....

Belted ammo is good. Don't ever fergit that and don't leave home without.

Seafire, I don't care if we get along here. Probably most would be best of friends around a real live campfire. Some of the funniest chitt I ever read comes from folks pizzed off at someone on the 'net. Better than Carl Hiaasen, Hunter Thompson, maybe even Groucho Marx. Rolled into one.

Hell, I even laugh at people that are having a mental breakdown here on the 'net...have no idea why 'cept maybe I have an ingrained sense of gallows humor courtesy of Uncle Sam. Still, I can extend a helping hand, offer distractions and so forth. Sometimes I distract myself even. That wench with the gold flakes, oh Lordy...whatta peach that one is, hey?

Now to be clear, there are some here I don't do that with, mostly 'cause of my sense of worth. There's always a smattering of punks that just plain need to be shot, or at least tazed for about 30 minutes. Ain't gettin' along with them, no matter what. OTOH, it's been proved to me a number of times, you really don't ever know who's gonna grow a set of 'nads and the most unlikely of moments and bail your azz out of a deep pile of chitt. I get along with most folks, most of the time, 'cept for a few I don't...in the real world and in cyberspace. I don't talk to them in either world.

This one's for Les.

TFF...


Travis

Seafire, I don't care if we get along here. Probably most would be best of friends around a real live campfire. Some of the funniest chitt I ever read comes from folks pizzed off at someone on the 'net. Better than Carl Hiaasen, Hunter Thompson, maybe even Groucho Marx. Rolled into one.

Hell, I even laugh at people that are having a mental breakdown here on the 'net...have no idea why 'cept maybe I have an ingrained sense of gallows humor courtesy of Uncle Sam. Still, I can extend a helping hand, offer distractions and so forth. Sometimes I distract myself even. That wench with the gold flakes, oh Lordy...whatta peach that one is, hey?

Aww Hell Dan...

I can't think of one forum member who wouldn't be a welcome guest at my family supper table... or the spare bedroom if they needed a place to crash...

Some might be more welcome than others and some might be a little less.. but as a fellow forum member here, the front door would always be open...

the only nuts around here are the one's that take all of this too seriously... not saying that I can't get pissed myself, an example being of someone being a douche, even to a pastor..

that goes a little beyond tolerance as far as I am concerned..

but as my granddad told me and my cousins when we were all kids " just 'cause ya can dress some folks up, still don't mean you can take them anywhere respectable..." applicable to our short little moronic primate alien buddy from Deliverance Alaska...

See, there ya go.

BTW, you're frightfully close to committing conflicted redundant adjective abuse (CRAA) there...at the end...



I gotta a story to tell about wimpy kids and tackle boxes but will have to get to it a little later. Funny chitt...

The SAW and the M240 are two different guns.

SAWs (M249) are kind of junky, IMO. They worked, most of the time. But working most of the time is not acceptable.

240s are pretty damned reliable, and the guys I was around that had used both the M60 and the 240 generally preferred the 240.

Back in the day it didn't take us long to wear out M60s. Parts were scarce...

KIDS 'n TACKLEBOXES

You may wonder what this has to do with the topic of the moment?



It's a COMBLOCK ZSU23-2. that system and the ZSU23-4 shot down more US planes over North Vietnam than all the rest of their air defense systems combined. The Rooshin 23 MM is a fair bit more feisty than the US 20mm and perhaps is the genesis of the 30mm used in the GAU-8

There was a fella named John Donnelly that I went to flight school with briefly. Scrawny, rosy cheeked, had polio when he was a kid and he walked a little odd after having recovered from what I presume was a mild case. Still, it left a mark on him. Last time I saw him I don't think he'd had to shave once in his life. Smooth skinned devil he was.

Anyway, we had these tackle boxes at flight school that we could use for personal chitt storage. They were not subject to inspection by the TAC Officers. At Ft. Wolters the barracks had built in lockers and hanging space, the upper compartment equipped with doors.

So that's the scene one fine Saturday morning as inspection progressed. TAC went up to John's locker and opened the doors...the tackle box tumbled out and smacked him square in the face. I still laugh about that visual, but John wasn't laughin' much afterwards. They yanked him out of the class and set him back a few cycles...never to be seen again until one day somewhere around Jan '70 he showed up in my unit at Camp Eagle. Still scrawny and rosy cheeked. He didn't have much of a sense of humor.

He became know as the "Child Killer" because of his appearance and aggressive nature while flying Scouts. His tally rang up like a pachinko game...and then I left the war to him and the other savages and went home.

Any of you that read "A Roll of the Dice" may recall the story about the day in the A Shau that I went nose to nose with a Dink 12.7mm? That was girly work compared to the Child Killer. No Chitt.

John and a couple of Guns were out in the general area where I tangled with the 12.7mm and ran across a ZSU23-2. That's gotta be one of those special come-to-Jesus moments in life. It's not obvious looking at the picture, but that gun is extraordinarily nimble. They can track a jet flying directly overhead at 500' elevation and 500 knots. Try that with your Browning A5.

Anyway, John told Guns and they, having more sense than most, elected to retreat and blabber to operations, which in turn babbled to Division Ops. who babbled to Division Intel (G2 and an oxymoron). G2 came back and said "Poppycock! There are no such weapons in SVN!"

This pissed John off. It pissed everyone off. They went off on another mission, ostensibly to another recon box. John, despite his child like appearance....well, his honor had been called into question. He veered off course and ignored the pleas of his Guns, made low level beeline to the ZSU23-2 and launched an attack that apparently used the same general tactics I had employed. Or so I was told. I heard Guns were about to wet their shorts. They shouldn't have though, 'cause John took the gun crew out at the opening bell.

Troop commander showed up not long after and verified the gun as a ZSU23 and called G2. They implied the Major was drunk, and that pissed him off. He called ops and they launched the Blues Platoon with intent to sling load the gun back to Camp Eagle. All went well until they found out the gun was too heavy, so they put some Det Cord between the gun and carriage and blew it.

Not but a few minutes later, gun wafting in the breeze under a Huey, the Major was alleged to have called G2 again and told them he had the ZSU and where did they want it? They told him he was fulla chitt.

The Major made a bold decision at that moment. He flew on into Camp Eagle, made an approach to the Commanding General's doublewide(with A/C of course) and came to a hover over the front yard. Eagle Tower was going nutz, demanding he hover elsewhere. He punched the cargo hook release and pickled the gun in front of the quarters and flew back to refuel.

Last I saw it, the gun was mounted in a cast concrete slab in front of the HQ/2/17 Tactical Operations Center, both barrels pointing in the general direction of Division HQ. They didn't fire or execute the Major, nor did they ever question intel from the B Troop Scout Platoon again.

John was a Lion, an eater of wolves, and last but not least, the guy that would give a TAC a bloody nose. I never had balls like that smooth skinned sumbitch. Or I wasn't that crazy. One or the other.