I served under a new lieutenant once. Unlike most shavetails he came to us in pretty good shape right out of the box, fresh out of West Point.
He seemed to be a pretty practical, down to earth and in general pretty squared away from the beginning. He was smart enough from the beginning to let his NCOs run things and I often saw him eat lunch with Top. I knew he was often seeking counsel from the old First Sergeant.
I had been called by Top to come to the orderly room for some reason or another. I have a vague memory of it having something to do with a piece of broken equipment of some sort or another.
Back in those days, First Sergeants were addressed as 'Top' which was an Old School abbreviation for 'Top Sergeant'. It was a title that was carried with pride.
He was a man somewhat short on formal education but quite long on raw native intelligence. He specialized in booby traps that were set up and activated by the victim. He could make just about anyone $hit and fall back in it.
Although we saw this happen very seldom, sometimes at formation he would act like the stupidest, most confused person in the world. It was downright funny watching him act like a dumb hillbilly was trying to figure something out. The entire battery would be fighting to keep from breaking out into laughter.
Of course, when he put that act on we all knew that somewhere along the line someone or maybe all of us were in for pretty serious trouble. He only did that when he was really angry about something.
It's a shame they don't have colorful characters like that in the service anymore. They served as a wonderful example of people that had taken their talents and run with them and succeeded.
I was outside and notice the lieutenant in there and waited for whatever business he had there to be taken care of. I do remember the lieutenant talking to Top about some problem one of the guys had and it was clear that the lieutenant was trying to get the man taken care of. I made a mental note of that. It was evidence that he was going to be a good officer.
During the course of the conversation the lieutenant mentioned that he kept a diary and a scrapbook. He asked Top if he had kept a scrapbook of some sort about his army career.
The First shirt's face lit up. I grinned and peeped around the door. I knew I was probably in for a rare treat. I didn't want to miss this one at all.
"As a matter of fact, Sir, I have." He then stood up, removed his shirt and peeled off his T-shirt exposing well over half a dozen scars.
He started point them out. "Got this one in Korea. Here's another Korea. Here's where I got hit in Vietnam. This damned thing I got in a jeep wreck back in '62." He went on until he covered them all.
The lieutenant stood there both embarrassed and amused watching Top go on describing the cause of each individual scar.
When he was done, he pulled his T-shirt back on and started putting his shirt on. While he was doing this my mouth ran away with me.
I stuck my head in the orderly room and looked a the lieutenant.
"Lieutenant, when I grow up I want to be just like Top!"
The battery clerk snarfed out a mouthful of coffee. The lieutenant blushed.
Old Top looked at me warmly and beamed. "Why, Thank you, Specialist. That's one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me!"
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
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