I still remember the entire Boy Scout motto. I don't remember the serial number of my gun in the army. I don't remember the number of my locker in school. But I remember that Boy Scout code.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
I wish it to be remembered that I was the last man of my tribe to surrender my rifle.
The army taught me to sign my name very quickly, and that's stood me in good stead the rest of my life.
I remember when I was a private soldier. I remember the days when I was taken care of and when I was not taken care of.
I was never a Boy Scout, but oh, I wanted to be one when I was a kid about ten or eleven years old. But there wasn't anyplace where I could ever join the Boy Scouts.
I remember the first time I put on the Army uniform. I just felt like a totally different person - I felt proud.
In military school, on day one you must memorize the mission of the Merchant Marine Academy.
I was talking on the phone in my trailer, and I looked in the mirror and I saw the badge clipped to my belt, a gun with a holster, and the suit and the tie with the jacket off, and it was just deja vu. I remember that image so clearly from growing up. My dad would come home for lunch, take off his jacket, have the gun and the badge.
The Army's always had a special place in my heart.
I am a southerner who grew up with and around guns. I own some still. My father gave me a .22 rifle when I was 9 and a single barrel .410 shotgun when I was 10.
About guns, about hunting, it's safe to say I know nothing. The last gun I fired was a musket at Boy Scout camp.