leslie(nova scotia)
Elite Member
He awoke with a longing in his heart. The sense of duty called. There at the bottom of his bed leaned against the wall was his live long companions. His weapons of mass detection. The digaholic was a member of the"Swingers of the Coil" of the Garrett Brigade. Which would he choose for todays purge of his enemy "Q." Each companion had it's strength and weaknesses. Time proven on the battlefield. The Pro known for its superior depth. The Sea Hunter MK11, fearless in the water while the Freedom 3 Plus was a warrior of the "Q Wars" bringing back to the kingdom uncountable trophies. The Digaholic pondered, searched his soul making his decision based on the location of todays quest which suited the attributes of the Freedom 3 Plus.
Donning his digging jacket adorned with patches from previous campaigns he grabbed his kit, kissed his wife good bye; headed out with one thought of mind. Annihilate the "Q.", restore honor to the House of Garrett, conquer and return intact to his forward base of operations.
Nogo was loaded to the gills with high test PetroCan go go juice.The radio was set on the operational channel with Bob Marley shouting commands. Weather was not a factor. Scuttle bug had it however that the enemy had sent in it's flying vampire wing to harass the Digaholic from the skies. They were the disease and he had the cure.....Deep Woods off!
A cup of joe at the big "M" calmed his resolve. The front was a mere 3 clicks south east of his location. The Digaholic proceeded with caution as the roads were lined with bobby traps as the fair weather had brought out the shorts and halter tops. Sent there to distract the Digaholic from his objective. This assault failed miserable as the Digaholic had been well indoctrinated by Commander in Chief Hunny Bunny.
Stealthfully, with years of practice on the drill parade ground he began to swing. Ever watching for death from above, punji stick holes or a sudden banzi charge from rug rats or the dreaded biological attack from mobile manure makers. Digging is hell.
Within minutes lead elements of the "Q" had been captured. Some being fresh raw recruits while others were dirty, rusty, barely discernable as Q coins. Swinging to the left. Swinging to the right they threw themselves at the Digaholic only to land in his finds pocket. Wounded. The pain as an aerial Kamikaze dived up his nose scrabbling what ever grey matter he had left. Dispatch with extreme prejudge with a deep blow of the left nostril. Two zipper mines uncovered. "Q" was once again thwarted with 52 P.O.W.s taken.
No officers amongst the prisoners. No ring leaders just common G.I. Joes.
Once back at camp it was a quick change into dress uniform. A quick trip to the Pa's for chow which turned into a pigfeast. Digaholic was now a member of the "Cannotmovebecauseofoverfullbelly None Mobile Unit. A moments silence was given for the brave cow that donated his live for the cause. The birthday cake depicting a fellow Digaholic grabbing some zs in a hamack was readily demolished. The Digaholic was now officially one year away from the army's national old timers pension.
Chaffering Commander Hunny Bunny it was off to the rear where the U.S.O. entertainment for the night was noncontact bingo in East Chester. Digaholic had served here years ago with the East Chester Disciples of the Ice Hockey Division. For him a time of remorse, pain and memories best forgotten.
It was a big payout for Digaholic as he won twice. Enough money to refill Nogo, take the Commander out for breakfast the following morning and buy some high grade copper top weaponry for his Garretts!
U.S.O.
Donning his digging jacket adorned with patches from previous campaigns he grabbed his kit, kissed his wife good bye; headed out with one thought of mind. Annihilate the "Q.", restore honor to the House of Garrett, conquer and return intact to his forward base of operations.
Nogo was loaded to the gills with high test PetroCan go go juice.The radio was set on the operational channel with Bob Marley shouting commands. Weather was not a factor. Scuttle bug had it however that the enemy had sent in it's flying vampire wing to harass the Digaholic from the skies. They were the disease and he had the cure.....Deep Woods off!
A cup of joe at the big "M" calmed his resolve. The front was a mere 3 clicks south east of his location. The Digaholic proceeded with caution as the roads were lined with bobby traps as the fair weather had brought out the shorts and halter tops. Sent there to distract the Digaholic from his objective. This assault failed miserable as the Digaholic had been well indoctrinated by Commander in Chief Hunny Bunny.
Stealthfully, with years of practice on the drill parade ground he began to swing. Ever watching for death from above, punji stick holes or a sudden banzi charge from rug rats or the dreaded biological attack from mobile manure makers. Digging is hell.
Within minutes lead elements of the "Q" had been captured. Some being fresh raw recruits while others were dirty, rusty, barely discernable as Q coins. Swinging to the left. Swinging to the right they threw themselves at the Digaholic only to land in his finds pocket. Wounded. The pain as an aerial Kamikaze dived up his nose scrabbling what ever grey matter he had left. Dispatch with extreme prejudge with a deep blow of the left nostril. Two zipper mines uncovered. "Q" was once again thwarted with 52 P.O.W.s taken.
No officers amongst the prisoners. No ring leaders just common G.I. Joes.
Once back at camp it was a quick change into dress uniform. A quick trip to the Pa's for chow which turned into a pigfeast. Digaholic was now a member of the "Cannotmovebecauseofoverfullbelly None Mobile Unit. A moments silence was given for the brave cow that donated his live for the cause. The birthday cake depicting a fellow Digaholic grabbing some zs in a hamack was readily demolished. The Digaholic was now officially one year away from the army's national old timers pension.
Chaffering Commander Hunny Bunny it was off to the rear where the U.S.O. entertainment for the night was noncontact bingo in East Chester. Digaholic had served here years ago with the East Chester Disciples of the Ice Hockey Division. For him a time of remorse, pain and memories best forgotten.
It was a big payout for Digaholic as he won twice. Enough money to refill Nogo, take the Commander out for breakfast the following morning and buy some high grade copper top weaponry for his Garretts!
U.S.O.
