This is for Stickseler, you asked for a story, so here it goes and as all good military stories start, SO THERE I WAS....., early November of the year nineteen hundred and ninety three, Schofield Barracks, HI. I was a proud NCO of the 1st Platoon, A Troop, 5th Squadron, 9th United States Cavalry. One day, I didn't have anything better else to do since I was clearing post, ready to PCS to the mainland; looking 46 days of leave in the eye, 2 whole months of marriage to some whoreslut, the century's worse winter storm in Kentucky and joining the 24th Infantry Division; when I strolled into the Troop XO's office to see what his latest, greatest plan he had concocted to get shot down by the CO was. I took my mandatory set next to his desk so I could eye his pic of Cindy Crawford giving him an autograph (fact was, this guy had a wife that looked like Cindy, but way hotter) and asked him WTF, sir? Well, this young, dashing cavalry 1LT was leaned back in his chair, studying some paperwork. He then told me what task he was charged with by none other than the Brigade Commander. LT. Flanagan was to lead a merry band of marauders out to Puu Kapu to unleash chaos and mayhem amongst aviators. Now I must tell y'all, the reader of Bubba Ray's experiences with the helicopter flying community of the US Army. The pilots in my squadron were squared the f*** away. Always ready to help us out and vice versa and was just your average collection of cavalry pilots. Now on the otherhand, the two aviation battalions in the brigade were filled with a bunch of worthless bozos who on more than one occasion had riled ole Bubba Ray and the rest of the Cav to white hot levels due to their stupidity. So LT. Flanagan asked me the question, did I want to join his marauders for a couple of fun filled evenings on the island of Oahu raising hell the only way scouts knew how to. Of course, Bubba Ray needed a little revenge on those goofballs for all the misery they had caused me in the three years of my lovely stay in paradise. The only other question the LT had for me was if I had gear, since I was clearing. Well, of course, all my TA-50 was already in, but like any good scout, I had my own personal LBE just in case my services were requested by some whackjob third world dictator. The first mission we were undertaking was to attack the aviation battalion's TOC (tactical operations center), which was on Puu Kapu. My first run in with this particular unit was on Puu Kapu, way back in '91 right before the Gulf War kicked off. We were the unit's quick reaction force, so for ten days and nights, we chased mongoose through the jungle and gulches off this prized piece of real estate. Oh how we have come full circle. So later on that afternoon, after I had put on my dancing clothes, LT Flanagan and his merry bunch of marauders were off to party CAV style. When we hit the area, we dropped off SSG. Ellsworth, an old crusty NCO who had a sense of humor second to none and took care of his troops, and our supply dude, CPL. Puehl, who due to animosity towards his former unit, who wouldn't let him go to the Gulf due to some BS about clearance, he regularly joined us for the hijinks we inflicted just a couple of klicks away so they could setup an OP. That left 6? of us to run around and see what we could kick up for action. We didn't have to wait long. We had set up a trap, using our two HMMWVs with me driving one out on the road leading into Puu Kapu a few miles away. A 5 ton cargo truck was going into post for chow pickup. The other HMMWV came up behind the truck, flashed the headlights, making the 5 ton driver pull over. I came roaring to a sliding stop in front of the 5 ton to block any escape attempt. The driver was pulled out and LT Flanagan gave him the What For and Why Not and Why are you still a virgin quiz. Poor kid, all he knew was he was going in for hot chow and where the retrans (commo lingo) site was. Oh really. Even better was this kid was the roommate for the kid on retrans and guess what happened? Well boys and girls, the kid spilled the beans and we scored like Gretsky. We thanked the kid for his time and patience and let him go, and off to the retrans site we went. Up to this time, all we had for a plan was we were hitting the TOC, question was how? Out of the merry band of bloodthirsty heathens, I knew the area the best. We had two options, go gulch busting; which was stimulating, wasn't a big thing to be doing at night; and the other was to go through the front door. We got the answer after we got to the retrans site. After the LT gave the kid the lowdown on his buddy's sense of honor, we had a new member of our bunch. Not only that, he would personally escort us in through the front door in his truck, and he gladly took down the retrans site. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA!!!! So here we were, the group was down to 5, not including our limo driver. We were bunched into his four door ragtop HMMWV, with LT riding shotgun and I was occupying the lovely cargo area behind two others. Of course by now, the sun had gone down and night was always our best friend. Since we had all the passwords and motivation to kick aviator a**, the first checkpoint was no problem. Then at the second checkpoint, we hit a snag. A Cobra attack helicopter was winding up for a night op, and they held us at the checkpoint for twenty long minutes. Now I'm here to let you know folks, that those poor souls stuck out on the checkpoint were the cream of the crop. Not once did they look inside the truck, I guess camo uniforms look all alike at night with no light /forums/images/graemlins/eek.gif. After the chopper took off, they let us proceed and within 5 minutes, we pulled up to the TOC. Now boys and girls, let me tell ya, that was just like taking the ex to the Danger Zone. Get past a little hang up, and BOOM!!!! You're in like Flynn. We disembarked and our limo driver said he would wait on us. Nothing like quality customer service to bring a smile. We busted into the tent through the flap and guess what, "Everyone remain silent. We are your local revolutionary band of heathens and you are our prisoners." Now wouldn't you think that maybe the girls would of started to scream for help, or as a matter of fact, the men would too? No, they were quiet the whole time. So I posted at the door with 9mm in hand while the rest of the team ensued havoc amongst the command materials at hand, radios, maps, SOIs, and the other general information that can be hand in such a palace......... While this chaos took place, some poor young PFC entered the door and promptly recieved a 9mm to the forehead. HA!!!! The mayhem finally was over, we must of been in there for 10-15 minutes. And you know when things are going this good for ya, Mr. Murphy must make an appearance and give you a little challenge. And in the case, it was the form of the LT. telling our willing prisoners that if they were quiet, we would not utilize the roll of 100 mph tape that was brought along. Oh well, they may of been dumb, but they weren't stupid. As soon as we lit out of the tent, the warning was given. And guess what, our limo driver was still there!!!!!!! We quickly remounted the HMMWV. Then out of the blue, here comes a playa from the driver's side. Now one of my troops had joined us, a young PFC who had his head up his a**, actually had a bright idea at this moment. "Hey troop!!! Get over here!!" he yelled. He even disguised his voice also. The figure approached the window. "Who are you?" my troop asked. "I'm Command Sergeant Major What his Nutts." was the reply. "You're fawking dead!!!!!" Good for a laugh and we lit out of the assembly area popping caps and found the hole in the wire and within 5 minutes, another successful mission brought to ya by the scouts of A Troop was over.