Story #4299

Vote

Setup: Summer 1992. FTX. 06:00 White Sands Middle Range. New Mexico. Wearing full MILES gear. Sun rising behind me. Three Drill Sergeants, two of which are Rangers, hiding out in the tall, ragged weeds somewhere in front of me. I’m 17 years old.

I stay behind in my firing position to watch my field of fire while my buddy guess to chow. My fighting position was only about 6-8″ deep after 8 hours of breaking solid rock the day before. After getting my throat cut the night before (that’s a whole other story) by DS Ranger1, I was a little on edge not wanting to die again. All of a sudden I can hear them… again. They start taunting. At one point, same as the night before, I begin to question their sobriety. This after all, is kind of a game to them. We hear them laughing often. They start calling my name… again. I’m determined to NOT audibly laugh at them as I had last night. Finally, after 5-10 minutes of taunting, and the torture of holding my laughter I hear DS Ranger2 warning of an attack. “We’re coming. We’re coming to slaughter you all and we’re gonna fuck your bloody corpses. And, if we find any, we’re gonna eat all of your balls for breakfast.” I held it together until I heard them laugh again and whispering to each other. I lost it. I let out a quiet chuckle. And then it hit me… Those fuckers are close enough that I can hear them whispering. Fuck! And then #1 says, “Enjoy your breakfast, Pvt Hasper.” Fuck, FUCK!!! I hear a pop and a hiss. Now I’m laying in the prone position and I see this strange white cloud about the size of a large auto float out of the bushes about 20 meters in front of me. Maybe 4ft off the ground. I had just enough time to tilt my head and think, “Huh, that’s weird. A smoke cloud floating right towards me.” It hit me before the actual white smoke even got to me. To this day I’m thankful that I was at the end of inhaling a breath. I had just enough breath and time to yell, “GAS, GAS, GAS!!!” They were still able to rush me and stab me (while wearing their own masks) but, moments later, multiple shots rang out and I heard their MILES gear start to scream.

I got a thumbs up from them later that day. Because I yelled gas, I alerted my buddies behind me and they killed “Charlie.” I was the only “casualty” from that attack. Right after graduation, Rangers 1&2 told me they picked me to pop gas on because they thought I could handle it because I’d done a lot better than many others in the gas chamber and they had to “scratch that itch.” I never told anyone my secret about “acting” in the gas chamber and the moments after exiting. I did tell the DSs that it helps having a big brother in the 82nd willing to help his little brother out with some tips and a few ways to get thru BCT.

I’ll never forget those tough, crazy ass mf’n Rangers.

The night before, just before DS1 snuck up on me and cut my throat, he laughed at me when he said he was gonna, “Shave my mother’s pussy with his razor sharp tongue.” That’s when I broke out laughing and he found me.

Thanks for letting me share one of my many crazy DS stories. I think my hand prints are probably still imprinted in the asphalt in the quad of Charlie Co. Hope it didn’t suck too bad.

Keep up the great work.