Jacqi's sketch
Jeez, haven't updated since before field training. Have an anecdote.
The Harmflies
The third part of field training involved this thing called JFTC, or 'joint forces training command.' (Or center, or whatever.) Anyway. JFTC was where we boarded the buses and skidded gleefully away from Maxwell Air Force Base, Alabama. Unfortunately for us, what we found was...
Camp Shelby....,
...MISSISSIPPI. DUN DUN DUNNNN.
A bit of background on Mississippi. Most of the US makes fun of the South for our silly alcohol laws and funky education system (among a bunch of other things). For those same reasons, we all make fun of Alabama. Guess what state Alabama makes fun of.
Yeah. That's where we were.

So the first night in our Army tent, an ominous droning fills the air, not unlike an old B-17 bomber. GRROWWWRRROWWRRORR. As we're wondering just what the hell the noise is, this thing flies in. It's approximately the size of either a house cat or a moving van, and it alights upon the hand of a tentmate.
"Hey, guys, look what I found!" exclaims the soon-to-be victim, unaware of the bloodlust in the beast's compound eyes.
We look at the monster.
It looks at us.
*HARMPH*
"OH SWEET GOD IN HEAVEN!"
Blood flies from the hand of the unfortunate young cadet as the horsefly rips away a chunk of bloody knuckle-flesh. I am dead serious.
Stunned for a moment, it didn't take us long to galvanize into action, Starship Troopers-esque, against the unholy arthropodian menace. The next few minutes were a blur of gnashing mandibles as the beast flitted amongst us like that rabbit from Monty Python before finally being taken down by a well-aimed swing from a duffel bag. Yes, a duffel bag.
The threat of this beast was no more...but this was Mississippi, and was breeding ten more for each one we killed.
One of those damned things bit me through a shirt.
I think we should napalm Mississippi.
The Harmflies
The third part of field training involved this thing called JFTC, or 'joint forces training command.' (Or center, or whatever.) Anyway. JFTC was where we boarded the buses and skidded gleefully away from Maxwell Air Force Base, Alabama. Unfortunately for us, what we found was...
Camp Shelby....,
...MISSISSIPPI. DUN DUN DUNNNN.
A bit of background on Mississippi. Most of the US makes fun of the South for our silly alcohol laws and funky education system (among a bunch of other things). For those same reasons, we all make fun of Alabama. Guess what state Alabama makes fun of.
Yeah. That's where we were.

So the first night in our Army tent, an ominous droning fills the air, not unlike an old B-17 bomber. GRROWWWRRROWWRRORR. As we're wondering just what the hell the noise is, this thing flies in. It's approximately the size of either a house cat or a moving van, and it alights upon the hand of a tentmate.
"Hey, guys, look what I found!" exclaims the soon-to-be victim, unaware of the bloodlust in the beast's compound eyes.
We look at the monster.
It looks at us.
*HARMPH*
"OH SWEET GOD IN HEAVEN!"
Blood flies from the hand of the unfortunate young cadet as the horsefly rips away a chunk of bloody knuckle-flesh. I am dead serious.
Stunned for a moment, it didn't take us long to galvanize into action, Starship Troopers-esque, against the unholy arthropodian menace. The next few minutes were a blur of gnashing mandibles as the beast flitted amongst us like that rabbit from Monty Python before finally being taken down by a well-aimed swing from a duffel bag. Yes, a duffel bag.
The threat of this beast was no more...but this was Mississippi, and was breeding ten more for each one we killed.
One of those damned things bit me through a shirt.
I think we should napalm Mississippi.

cynical
military
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Brawly
braindead
bored
chipper