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Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

September 10, 2001

The Dew Drop In Bar

1740 Hours Local Time


Over the years, this little place has become my favorite watering hole. I like coming in here to play a little pool, or to get a drink and relax. It's not a fancy place like some bars I've been into in the past, but at least it's clean, and the people that work here, along with the regular patrons are friendly.

I'm sitting at the bar drinking a cold beer and enjoying the music that's playing on the jukebox, when Sam, the bartender comes over and asks, "Need a refill Bill?"

"Yeah, why not Sam," I answer as I hand him my empty glass.

Meanwhile, I turn around in my seat and look toward the table across from me. I sit there and listen as one of the men at the table is telling his war stories to the woman sitting next to him.

"Do you know them, Bill?" Sam asks as he places my drink on the bar in front of me.

"Nope, can't say I do," I reply in a raised voice as I turn around to face Sam. "Don't want to either." I take a drink and then say, "That guy wouldn't know what combat was if it jumped up and bit him on the ass."

"Bill, you better watch what you say," Sam warns me. "That's one bunch of boys you don't want to fuck with."

"So, you know them?" I ask.

"Yeah I do," Sam replies. "The one guy is an Army Ranger; he comes in here with his sister a few times a month. I'm not sure if she's in the military, but I know he is.

"No shit," I comment. "I've never seen any of them in here before."

Before Sam can say another word, the man at the table, who is telling his story, walks over to the bar where I'm sitting at.

"Now John, I don't want any trouble," Sam says. "Go on back over to your table."

"Old man, I heard what you said a few minutes ago." John says to me, ignoring what Sam has just said to him. "I didn't appreciate what you said about me."

"Is that so," I say as I turn to face him.

"That's right," John fires back. "Old man, you're asking for an ass kicking by running your fuckin' mouth like that. If you got the balls to step outside, I'll give you a fuckin' ass kicking that you'll never forget."

"Son, I haven't had a good ass kicking in a long fuckin' time. In fact, I think I'm overdue for one."

"I'm not your fuckin' son, you old fart."

"You're right about that," I shot back. "My son would have more brains than to pick a fight with someone without first knowing who he's fuckin' with."

"Bill, you better back off," Sam warns me. "John is a trained sniper and someone you shouldn't be fuckin' with."

"Oh, so you're a sniper?"

"That's right old man, so don't fuck with me. I'm a G S nine sniper, and you should know that the Army has taught me how to kick some serious ass. You don't want me to open a can of whip-ass on you. I'll put a fuckin' hurtin' on you like you've never had before."

"Ha," I chuckle as I stand up. "Are you threatening me, you little fuckin' asshole?"

"It's not a threat old man. It's a fuckin' promise, so don't push it if you know what's good for you."

"Oh I'm getting scared now," I shot back. "Please don't hurt me."

Suddenly, John takes a swing at me. I stop his fist from making contact with my face by grabbing it with my bare hand. I apply pressure to his captured fist, squeezing it hard, sending a severe pain up his arm.

"Ah, ah," is all John can say as he drops to his knees in pain.

"Now, as I see it you only have two choices here Mr. Dickhead," I say as I apply more pressure to John's hand. "You can take your so-called G S nine ass back over to your fuckin' table, sit the fuck down, and enjoy the rest of the evening; or we can go outside, where I will beat your fuckin' ass so bad that your mama won't even recognize you. I didn't start this, but you can bet your fuckin' ass I will finish it. I don't start fights; I finish them."

John looks up at me bewildered. I have no doubt that I now have his full attention. I reach into my pocket with my free hand, while keeping constant pressure on his fist with my other hand, pull out my I D card from my pocket, and show it to him. "Now son, I want you to take a real good look at my I D. As you can see, I'm an Army lieutenant general." I pause for a brief moment before continuing. "You will cool your fuckin' bullshit right now. Also, from here on out you will not address me as old man or old fart, you are to address me as sir. Furthermore, I will call you, whatever I fuckin' feel like calling you, is that clear?"

"Yes sir, sorry sir," was all John can say.

I release the hold that I have on John's fist. He quickly gets to his feet and snaps to attention. "Good evening sir," He says, and then walks back to his table and sits down.

"Damn, this is the first time I've ever seen John back down," Sam comments, stunned by what he has just witnessed. "Usually it's the other way around."

"No harm's been done," I comment. "He's just trying to be someone bigger than he really is."

"You mean he's not a G S nine sniper?" Sam asks.

"For all I know, he may be a sniper," I reply. "But there's no such thing as a G S nine sniper that I know of."

"Oh," was all Sam can say. "So, I take it that you're in the service?"

"Well, you can say that, but if I tell you anymore I'd have to kill you for security reasons."

"You Army boys are something else," Sam says as he shakes his head in disbelief, and then walks away to attend to his other customers at the bar.

I sit there at the bar, thinking about how I got to this point in my Military career. I joined the Army in 1979 right after I graduated from college. Then, after I graduated from Officer's Basic Training, I went to the Officer Candidate School at Fort Benning, Georgia. From there I went to Colorado Springs, Colorado, for supply and logistics training.

When I arrive at Colorado Springs, Colorado, for supply and logistics training it is obvious to me from the start, that running a supply and logistics department is the same as running a business, and I know just how to do that.

At the time, the only problem I have is how to operate the new computers that the Army is using. The computers back then are a lot different from the ones we use today. They are set up as computer terminals, consisting of a keyboard with a small TV screen attached to it, and hooked up to what is known as the main frame.

My living quarters is a lot like the dorm I stayed in when I was in college. Jack, my roommate, is more like a brother to me rather than my friend. I'm surprised to learn how much we have in common. I guess that's why we hit it off so well from the start.

The officer in charge of overseeing our living quarters is First Lieutenant Jones. He is only one pay grade above us and thinks he's hot shit. Jones does everything by the book and sometimes he can be a royal pain in the ass.

One Friday night, in mid August of 1979, First Lieutenant Jones catches Jack, and I trying to smuggle a twelve pack of Budweiser into our room. Jones proceeds to rip us a new ass. You might have thought we ripped off the Declaration of Independence, or the Constitution.

Jones, being the asshole that Jack and I know he is, restricts us to our quarters for the remainder of the weekend. We have no idea what is going to happen to us, but we know without a doubt that we are in deep shit this time. That asshole Jones is going to fry our asses for sure.

Later that night, we sneak out of our room and head to the computer room. When we get there, Jack opens the door with the key he has, and we enter. Inside there are several computer terminals that line each wall, and a row down the center.

Jack wastes no time; he heads for the computer terminal closest to the door and sits down in front of it. He turns on the computer and waits for it to warm up. Moments later, he starts typing on the keyboard. "I'll get even with that fuckin' asshole," he mumbles "He'll pay for fuckin' with me this time."

I have no idea what Jack is up to until I see the first lieutenant's name come up on the computer screen. Soon afterwards, Jack is in the lieutenant's service record changing things.

"Oh fuck," Jack suddenly says. "Oh fuck," he says again.

I look at the computer screen. A message, Security Breach Has Been Detected, is flashing on the screen. "Jesus Christ Jack; let's get the fuck out of here."

Without saying a word, Jack turns everything off and we get the hell out of there, locking the door behind us.