I personally have never served but a number of my friends have and some of the stories I've heard over the years have been pretty amazing. Nights spent sleeping in Saddam's palaces, drunken bar brawls in phuket. There are three that stick out in my head and I hope that my writing skills are up to the task of sharing them.
Mr. Grockmeyer
This is a story I heard around the campfire when I was young from probably the most trusted person I can think of. My old scoutmaster Mr. Grockmeyer. It's been a long time since I've heard the story so pardon any inacuracies. I believe it was in WWII Mr. Rockmeyer was a supply clerk stationed somewhere in India. During that time the US Army employed local Gurkha tribesman to function as sentry and guards for supply depots. I would imagine the regular fighting GI was in short supply. As Mr. Rockmeyer describe, the local Gurkha fighters would carry a M1 Carbine on occasion but they always had their Gurkha knife. He described the Gurkha knife as a long sword like knife that curved at the end and pitched forward. To be considered a Gurkha fighter, it was mandatory that you became a expert at handling the knives. During the day, Gurkha fighters would regular engage in knife throwing contests to demonstrate their skill which was something the US soldiers looked forward to as a spectators. New guys who were green towards the Gurkha's would very suddenly take the Gurkha's very seriously after watching one of the contests. One evening Mr. Grockmeyer was asleep in his rack when he heard a commotion from the supply room. He jumped to his feet and ran to the door only to see a local man running away from the exterior supply room door with a sack of rice. Mr. Grockmeyer stepped through the exterior door to see a Gurkha Fighter come around the corner of the supply building with his kife sideways behind is head. The Gurkha threw the knife towards the man. In the darkness, Mr. Grockmeyer saw the man was beheaded, yet the body continued to run for another 20 feet before veering off and falling into a sugar cane field.
Uncle Bill
My uncle Bill had to be the coolest dude I know. There is only one story I've ever heard and it isn't talked about much. In WWII Unlce Bill and another guy was on suspended off the side of destroyer on a rope with a plank for him to sit on. He was painting or scraping or cleaning? I don't know. (Maybe some of you old navy guys could confirm ship operations during wartime as to what he may have been doing) I beleive the ship was torpedoed on the opposite side though. The concusion was enough to knock Uncle Bill off the side of the ship and then he swung back into the ship while hanging onto the his rigging. He buddy wasn't so lucky, he was knocked off the rigging completely and lost at sea.
John Smathers
I met John about 4 years ago. I was working on the computer systems at his law firm as a contractor when he returned from Iraq. John had been involved in a ambush while in Iraq and he was banged up pretty bad. After awhile of working on the computers at the office John needed some help with the computers at his house. (This was during the spyware malware heydays) The most important thing I can impart to you about John was how freely he trusted me and honestly I didn't think he really knew me that well. He would regularly tell me to just enter the house, it was unlocked, leave me there by myself, sometimes John would be passed out from the pain meds, I would do what I needed to do then quietly let myself out, leaving a note. He had purchased a Harley V-Rod at some point but had been unable to ride it since getting home due to his injuries. Imagine my suprise when the first time out to his place he tossed me the keys and said take it for a spin. (Which I gingerly did because the bike had 10 miles on the odometer) Anyway, John was going through some serious rehab and surgeries from the ambush. He told me the story, he was in group of three suburbans escorting a several star general. They were rolling down a two lane road lined with palm trees when the surban was hit with what they think was a rocket propelled grenade. The suburban John was in was turned on it's side. I believe that the General survived, the translator was killed, John survived and started returning fire, and the driver was unable to leave the vehicle due to a compound fracture but was returning fire was well. If anyone who is reading this knows the story as well please make any corrections as you see fit. The most important thing I can tell you was that John told me he threw all of his grenades back into the tree lines except for one. He was keeping that for himself. His exact words were "They weren't going to take me, John Smathers isn't going to be a prisoner"
I just stood there in John's kitchen. Dumb founded at first because he was talking about himself in the third person. The look in his face and the level of intensity in the tone of his voice took me back. I didn't know what to say, I'm a sarcastic jerk at heart so my initial reaction was "this guy might be a little off" but then I got mad at myself for thinking that and haven't thought that since. After a uncomfortable silence John continued on to tell me about a dog that he had befriended named scout.
John went through a bunch more surgeries and time to time I would stop by to check up on his laptop and pc. The vrod was missing from the garage after awhile. I think he sold it, I think his injuries were not going to allow him to ride which was a bummer, we were supposed to go riding. I didn't make mention of it though. After awhile I realized it had been a year since I talked to him. I called his cell phone a few times and it went straight to voicemail. Then one day I looked up the website for the law firm (I had moved on from that job and I think they had hired another company to service the machines) I found out that John had passed away from a existing heart condition. If you have the time, you can read about John and see pictures of scout at the link below. I've participated in a couple of Patriot Guard rides, one for a childhood friend but none of them have taken me down to Arlington yet. I will make it a point to make it Arlington this spring to visit John.
http://www.arlingtoncemetery.net/jesmathers.htm
Mr. Grockmeyer
This is a story I heard around the campfire when I was young from probably the most trusted person I can think of. My old scoutmaster Mr. Grockmeyer. It's been a long time since I've heard the story so pardon any inacuracies. I believe it was in WWII Mr. Rockmeyer was a supply clerk stationed somewhere in India. During that time the US Army employed local Gurkha tribesman to function as sentry and guards for supply depots. I would imagine the regular fighting GI was in short supply. As Mr. Rockmeyer describe, the local Gurkha fighters would carry a M1 Carbine on occasion but they always had their Gurkha knife. He described the Gurkha knife as a long sword like knife that curved at the end and pitched forward. To be considered a Gurkha fighter, it was mandatory that you became a expert at handling the knives. During the day, Gurkha fighters would regular engage in knife throwing contests to demonstrate their skill which was something the US soldiers looked forward to as a spectators. New guys who were green towards the Gurkha's would very suddenly take the Gurkha's very seriously after watching one of the contests. One evening Mr. Grockmeyer was asleep in his rack when he heard a commotion from the supply room. He jumped to his feet and ran to the door only to see a local man running away from the exterior supply room door with a sack of rice. Mr. Grockmeyer stepped through the exterior door to see a Gurkha Fighter come around the corner of the supply building with his kife sideways behind is head. The Gurkha threw the knife towards the man. In the darkness, Mr. Grockmeyer saw the man was beheaded, yet the body continued to run for another 20 feet before veering off and falling into a sugar cane field.
Uncle Bill
My uncle Bill had to be the coolest dude I know. There is only one story I've ever heard and it isn't talked about much. In WWII Unlce Bill and another guy was on suspended off the side of destroyer on a rope with a plank for him to sit on. He was painting or scraping or cleaning? I don't know. (Maybe some of you old navy guys could confirm ship operations during wartime as to what he may have been doing) I beleive the ship was torpedoed on the opposite side though. The concusion was enough to knock Uncle Bill off the side of the ship and then he swung back into the ship while hanging onto the his rigging. He buddy wasn't so lucky, he was knocked off the rigging completely and lost at sea.
John Smathers
I met John about 4 years ago. I was working on the computer systems at his law firm as a contractor when he returned from Iraq. John had been involved in a ambush while in Iraq and he was banged up pretty bad. After awhile of working on the computers at the office John needed some help with the computers at his house. (This was during the spyware malware heydays) The most important thing I can impart to you about John was how freely he trusted me and honestly I didn't think he really knew me that well. He would regularly tell me to just enter the house, it was unlocked, leave me there by myself, sometimes John would be passed out from the pain meds, I would do what I needed to do then quietly let myself out, leaving a note. He had purchased a Harley V-Rod at some point but had been unable to ride it since getting home due to his injuries. Imagine my suprise when the first time out to his place he tossed me the keys and said take it for a spin. (Which I gingerly did because the bike had 10 miles on the odometer) Anyway, John was going through some serious rehab and surgeries from the ambush. He told me the story, he was in group of three suburbans escorting a several star general. They were rolling down a two lane road lined with palm trees when the surban was hit with what they think was a rocket propelled grenade. The suburban John was in was turned on it's side. I believe that the General survived, the translator was killed, John survived and started returning fire, and the driver was unable to leave the vehicle due to a compound fracture but was returning fire was well. If anyone who is reading this knows the story as well please make any corrections as you see fit. The most important thing I can tell you was that John told me he threw all of his grenades back into the tree lines except for one. He was keeping that for himself. His exact words were "They weren't going to take me, John Smathers isn't going to be a prisoner"
I just stood there in John's kitchen. Dumb founded at first because he was talking about himself in the third person. The look in his face and the level of intensity in the tone of his voice took me back. I didn't know what to say, I'm a sarcastic jerk at heart so my initial reaction was "this guy might be a little off" but then I got mad at myself for thinking that and haven't thought that since. After a uncomfortable silence John continued on to tell me about a dog that he had befriended named scout.
John went through a bunch more surgeries and time to time I would stop by to check up on his laptop and pc. The vrod was missing from the garage after awhile. I think he sold it, I think his injuries were not going to allow him to ride which was a bummer, we were supposed to go riding. I didn't make mention of it though. After awhile I realized it had been a year since I talked to him. I called his cell phone a few times and it went straight to voicemail. Then one day I looked up the website for the law firm (I had moved on from that job and I think they had hired another company to service the machines) I found out that John had passed away from a existing heart condition. If you have the time, you can read about John and see pictures of scout at the link below. I've participated in a couple of Patriot Guard rides, one for a childhood friend but none of them have taken me down to Arlington yet. I will make it a point to make it Arlington this spring to visit John.
http://www.arlingtoncemetery.net/jesmathers.htm
