This is one of those things that is a pain in the ass to talk about because everyone jumps to conclusions when I say the FFL saved my life.
Needless to say there are two stories, pick one.
First, I ran off with the Sheik of Araby's beautiful dark eyed daughter by stealing his prize horse, scooping her up behind me and galloping off into the darkness of the desert with about 2000 gold toothed greasy A-rabs* chasing us.
We made it to Fort Zindenauf ahead of them and when they charged the fort I won the Legion of Honor for shooting 38 consecutive A-rabs off of a camel's back.
After that we left the fort and were mio chased through the Seven Cities of Gold, Phoenix, Tuscon, Las Vegas to name a few. We were chased day and night and were nearly caught every time we turned around.
Finally we escaped disguised as hillbillies and found peace and security in Pittsburgh in our lovely little house in the suburbs with a white picket fence and our 2.3 children.
Needless to say when I tell that story and the listener sits there agape not one of them has the brains to ask how they managed to get 38 A-rabs on the back of a camel. Even the Marx Brothers could not pull that one off although they did do a splendid job of cramming about that many people into a small ship's cabin in 'A Night at the Opera'.
Then, of course, there's always the truth which never seems to be quite as colorful.
Back when I got out of the army I was living in a tipi in the Rockies. I knew that that was not goinng to last forever so I decided to look for something interesting to do after I left the tipi. I considered becoming a game warden of some sort in Africa because I loved living in the outdoors and wanted to do something to protect the wildlife.
I wrote practically every country in Africa asking about employment as a game warden. When I mentioned this to someone they suggested I also write the FFL because at the time they were supposedly involved in some sort of law enforcement in the African French holdings.
I got no reasonable offers. Africa was (and probably still is) a mess and about half of my letters went unanswered.
Those that replied were not looking for gamekeepers but mercenary soldiers. What was then Rhodesia offered me a enlistment in the Rhodesian army with an opportunity to try out for the Sealous Scouts. Be a man among men, said the posters of the Scouts.
Sorry. Not interested.
The last letter to trickle in came from of all things, the Legion. It was not a recruiting letter but a well thought out piece of advice that I change my plans as being a game warden in most of Africa was likely to end for me with a bullet in the back of my head and being eaten by hyenas.
The Legionnaire that wrote it had taken the time to recommend to me that I seriously reconsider my plans for a number of well thought out reasons. Among others was that certain Rhino horns were worth over 30,000 mid-1097s US dollars.
When you consider the average house cost of the time was about 25K you can see that the possession of such an animal part would lead to a rather heated discussion conducted with firearms.
Based on the letter I got from the Legion I changed my plans and I do believe it saved my life.
*A-rabs are not to be mistaken for Arabs that really exist. A-rabs area figment of a Hollywood screenwriter's imagination and in general bear no resemblence to people in the Arabic parts of the world.
It really isn't as colorful as running off with the Sheik's beautiful daughter but it remains that the French Foreign Legion did save my life.
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