Автор Тема: Military Humour  (Прочитано 6007 раз)

0 Пользователей и 1 Гость просматривают эту тему.

Оффлайн Ann

  • Глобальный модератор
  • Ветеран
  • *****
  • Сообщений: 562
  • Патриций
    • Просмотр профиля
Re: Military stories
« Ответ #15 : 13 Апрель 2017, 23:52:17 »
                     
They Welcome Them with One Shorter Leg in the Navy

     A draftee said to the draft officer:"You see that I am not fit at all for sea service. My right leg is shorter than the left one."
     "No problem, Norris," said the officer, "the ship deck isn't even."

Оффлайн Ann

  • Глобальный модератор
  • Ветеран
  • *****
  • Сообщений: 562
  • Патриций
    • Просмотр профиля
Re: Military stories
« Ответ #14 : 13 Апрель 2017, 00:32:14 »
 
   The Most Expensive Suit in the World

     A flying cadet was asked by the examiner:"What suit is the most expensive one in the world?"
     The cadet was lost in guesses.
     "The suit won by Liz Taylor? By Jackie Onassis? By Grace Kelly?"
     "Wrong, cadet", remarks the examiner. "It's the one worn by American astronauts".

Оффлайн Sergevna

  • Ветеран
  • *****
  • Сообщений: 465
  • Патриций
    • Просмотр профиля
Re: Military stories
« Ответ #13 : 15 Апрель 2015, 13:17:26 »
An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge
 Ambrose Bierce.

The occurrence, or event, in our story takes place during the Civil War of the eighteen sixties between the American states of the north and the states of the south. A group of soldiers is hanging a southern farm owner for trying to stop northern military movements across the Owl Creek Bridge.
In the last moments of his life, the southern prisoner dreams he has escaped. And everything that happens in the story is really the images in the prisoners mind just before he dies.

Narrator:  A man stood on a railroad bridge in Alabama looking down into the swift waters of the Owl Creek River below. The mans hands were tied behind his back. There was a rope around his neck. The rope was tied to part of the bridge above him. Three soldiers of the northern army stood near the prisoner, waiting for their captains orders to hang him.

Everybody was ready. The prisoner stood quietly. His eyes were not covered. He looked down and saw the water under the bridge. Now, he closed his eyes.
He wanted his last thoughts to be of his wife and children. But, as he tried to think of them, he heard sounds -- again and again. The sounds were soft. But they got louder and louder and started to hurt his ears. The pain was strong. He wanted to shout. But the sounds he heard were just those of the river running swiftly under the bridge.
The prisoner quickly opened his eyes and looked at the water. "If I could only free my hands," he thought. "Then I could get the rope off my neck and jump into the river. I could swim under the water and escape the fire of their guns. I could reach the other side of the river and get home through the forest. My house is outside of their military area, and my wife and children are safe there. I would be, too…"
While these thoughts raced through the prisoners mind, the captain gave the soldiers the order to hang him. A soldier quickly obeyed. He made the rope firm around the prisoners neck. Then he dropped him through a hole in the bridge.
As the prisoner fell, everything seemed black and empty. But then he felt a sharp pain in his neck and could not breathe. There were terrible pains running from his neck down through his body, his arms and his legs. He could not think. He could only feel, a feeling of living in a world of pain.
Then, suddenly, he heard a noise…something falling into the water. There was a big sound in his ears. Everything around him was cold and dark. Now he could think. He believed the rope had broken and that he was in the river.
But the rope was still around his neck, and his hands were tied. He thought: "How funny. How funny to die of hanging at the bottom of a river!" Then he felt his body moving up to the top of the water.
The prisoner did not know what he was doing. But his hands reached the rope on his neck and tore it off.
Now he felt the most violent pain he had ever known. He wanted to put the rope back on his neck. He tried but could not. His hands beat the water and pushed him up to the top. His head came out of the water. The light of the sun hurt his eyes. His mouth opened, and he swallowed air. It was too much for his lungs. He blew out the air with a scream.
Now the prisoner could think more clearly. All his senses had returned. They were even sharper than before. He heard sounds he never heard before -- that no mans ears ever heard -- the flying wings of small insects, the movement of a fish. His eyes saw more than just the trees along the river. They saw every leaf on the trees. And they saw the thin lines in the leaves.
And he saw the bridge, with the wall at one end. He saw the soldiers and the captain on the bridge. They shouted, and they pointed at him. They looked like giant monsters. As he looked, he heard gunfire. Something hit the water near his head. Now there was a second shot. He saw one soldier shooting at him.He knew he had to get to the forest and escape. He heard an officer call to the other soldiers to shoot.

The prisoner went down into the river, deep, as far as he could. The water made a great noise in his ears, but he heard the shots.
As he came up to the top again, he saw the bullets hit the water. Some of them touched his face and hands.
One even fell into the top of his shirt. He felt the heat of the bullet on his back.
When his head came out of the water for air, he saw that he was farther away from the soldiers. And he began swimming strongly.
As he swam, the soldiers fired their rifles. Then they fired their cannon at him. But nothing hit him. Then, suddenly, he could not swim. He was caught in a whirlpool which kept turning him around and around. This was the end, he thought. Then, just as suddenly as it had caught him, the whirlpool lifted him and threw him out of the river. He was on land!
He kissed the ground. He looked around him. There was a pink light in the air. The wind seemed to make music as it blew through the trees. He wanted to stay there. But the cannon fired again, and he heard the bullets above his head. He got up and ran into the forest. At last, he found a road toward his house. It was a wide, straight road. Yet it looked like a road that never had any travelers on it. No farms. No houses on its sides, only tall black trees.
In the tall black trees, the prisoner heard strange voices. Some of them spoke in words that he could not understand.
His neck began to hurt. When he touched it, it felt very large. His eyes hurt so much that he could not close them. His feet moved, but he could not feel the road.
As he walked, he was in a kind of sleep. Now, half-awake, half asleep, he found himself at the door of his house. His lovely wife ran to him. Ah, at last.
He put his arms about his beautiful wife. And just then, he felt a terrible pain in the back of his neck. All around him there was a great white light and the sound of a cannon. And then…then…darkness and silence.
The prisoner was dead. His neck was broken. His body hung at the end of a rope. It kept swinging from side to side. Swinging gently under a hole in Owl Creek Bridge.


Оффлайн Sergevna

  • Ветеран
  • *****
  • Сообщений: 465
  • Патриций
    • Просмотр профиля
Re: Military stories
« Ответ #12 : 15 Апрель 2015, 12:59:53 »
A Horseman in the Sky
Ambrose Bierce

Narrator: Carter Druse was born in Virginia. He loved his parents, his home and the south. But he loved his country, too. And in the autumn of eighteen sixty-one, when the United States was divided by a terrible civil war, Carter Druse, a southerner, decided to join the Union Army of the north.

He told his father about his decision one morning at breakfast.
The older man looked at his only son for a moment, too shocked to speak. Then he said, "As of this moment you are a traitor to the south. Please dont tell your mother about your decision. She is sick, and we both know she has only a few weeks to live."
Carters father paused, again looking deep into his sons eyes. "Carter," he said, "No matter what happens -- be sure you always do what you think is your duty."
Both Carter Druse and his father left the table that morning with broken hearts. And Carter soon left his home, and everyone he loved to wear the blue uniform of the Union soldier.

One sunny afternoon, a few weeks later, Carter Druse lay with his face in the dirt by the side of a road. He was on his stomach, his arms still holding his gun. Carter would not receive a medal for his actions. In fact, if his commanding officer were to see him, he would order Carter shot immediately.
For Carter was not dead or wounded. He was sleeping while on duty. Fortunately, no one could see him. He was hidden by some bushes, growing by the side of the road.

The road Carter Druse had been sent to guard was only a few miles from his fathers house.

It began in a forest, down in the valley, and climbed up the side of a huge rock. Anyone standing on the top of this high rock would be able to see down into the valley. And that person would feel very dizzy, looking down. If he dropped a stone from the edge of this cliff, it would fall for six hundred meters before disappearing into the forest in the valley below.

Giant cliffs, like the one Carter lay on, surrounded the valley.
Hidden in the valleys forest were five union regiments -- thousands of Carters fellow soldiers. They had marched for thirty-six hours. Now they were resting. But at midnight they would climb that road up the rocky cliff.
Their plan was to attack by surprise an army of southerners, camped on the other side of the cliff. But if their enemy learned about the Union Army hiding in the forest, the soldiers would find themselves in a trap with no escape. That was why Carter Druse had been sent to guard the road.
It was his duty to be sure that no enemy soldier, dressed in gray, spied on the valley, where the union army was hiding.
But Carter Druse had fallen asleep. Suddenly, as if a messenger of fate came to touch him on the shoulder, the young man opened his eyes. As he lifted his head, he saw a man on horseback standing on the huge rocky cliff that looked down into the valley.
The rider and his horse stood so still that they seemed made of stone. The mans gray uniform blended with the blue sky and the white clouds behind him. He held a gun in his right hand, and the horses reins in the other.
Carter could not see the mans face, because the rider was looking down into the valley. But the man and his horse seemed to be of heroic, almost gigantic size, standing there motionless against the sky. Carter discovered he was very much afraid, even though he knew the enemy soldier could not see him hiding in the bushes.
Suddenly the horse moved, pulling back its head from the edge of the cliff. Carter was completely awake now. He raised his gun, pushing its barrel through the bushes. And he aimed for the horsemans heart. A small squeeze of the trigger, and Carter Druse would have done his duty.
At that instant, the horseman turned his head and looked in Carters direction. He seemed to look at Carters face, into his eyes, and deep into his brave, generous heart.
Carters face became very white. His entire body began shaking. His mind began to race, and in his fantasy, the horse and rider became black figures, rising and falling in slow circles against a fiery red sky.
Carter did not pull the trigger. Instead, he let go of his gun and slowly dropped his face until it rested again in the dirt.
Brave and strong as he was, Carter almost fainted from the shock of what he had seen.
Is it so terrible to kill an enemy who might kill you and your friends? Carter knew that this man must be shot from ambush -- without warning. This man must die without a moment to prepare his soul; without even the chance to say a silent prayer.
Slowly, a hope began to form in Carter Druses mind. Perhaps the southern soldier had not seen the northern troops.
Perhaps he was only admiring the view. Perhaps he would now turn and ride carelessly away.
Then Carter looked down into the valley so far below. He saw a line of men in blue uniforms and their horses, slowly leaving the protection of the forest. A foolish Union officer had permitted his soldiers to bring their horses to drink at a small stream near the forest. And there they were -- in plain sight!
Carter Druse looked back to the man and horse standing there against the sky. Again he took aim. But this time he pointed his gun at the horse. Words rang in his head -- the last words his father ever spoke to him: "No matter what happens, be sure you always do what you think is your duty."
Carter Druse was calm as he pulled the trigger of his gun.

At that moment, a Union officer happened to look up from his hiding place near the edge of the forest. His eyes climbed to the top of the cliff that looked over the valley. Just looking at the top of the gigantic rock, so far above him, made the soldier feel dizzy.
And then the officer saw something that filled his heart with horror. A man on a horse was riding down into the valley through the air!
The rider sat straight in his saddle. His hair streamed back, waving in the wind. His left hand held his horses reins while his right hand was hidden in the cloud of the horses mane. The horse looked as if it were galloping across the earth. Its body was proud and noble.
As the frightened Union officer watched this horseman in the sky, he almost believed he was witnessing a messenger from heaven. A messenger who had come to announce the end of the world. The officers legs grew weak, and he fell. At almost the same instant, he heard a crashing sound in the trees. The sound died without an echo. And all was silent.
The officer got to his feet, still shaking. He went back to his camp. But he didnt tell anyone what he had seen. He knew no one would ever believe him.
Soon after firing his gun, Carter Druse was joined by a Union sergeant. Carter did not turn his head as the sergeant kneeled beside him.

"Did you fire?" The sergeant whispered.
"Yes."
"At what?"
"A horse. It was on that rock. Its not there now. It went over the cliff." Carters face was white. But he showed no other sign of emotion. The sergeant did not understand.
"See here, Druse," he said, after a moments silence. "Why are you making this into a mystery. I order you to report. Was there anyone on the horse?"
"Yes."
"Who? "
"My father."

Оффлайн Sergevna

  • Ветеран
  • *****
  • Сообщений: 465
  • Патриций
    • Просмотр профиля
Re: Military stories
« Ответ #11 : 04 Март 2015, 13:12:33 »
True Friend
Horror gripped the heart of the World War I soldier as he saw his lifelong friend fall in battle. Caught in a trench with continuous gunfire whizzing over his head, the soldier asked his lieutenant if he might go out into the “no man’s land” between the trenches to bring his fallen comrade back.

“You can go,” said the lieutenant, “but i don’t think it will be worth it. Your friend is probably dead and you may throw your life away.” The lieutenant’s advice didn’t matter, and the soldier went anyway. Miraculously he managed to reach his friend, hoist him onto his shoulder and bring him back to their company’s trench. As the two of them tumbled in together to the bottom of the trench, the officer checked the wounded soldier, and then looked kindly at his friend.

“I told you it wouldn’t be worth it,” he said. “Your friend is dead and you are mortally wounded.”

“It was worth it, though, sir,” said the soldier.

“What do you mean; worth it?” responded the Lieutenant. “Your friend is dead.”

“Yes, Sir” the private answered. “But it was worth it because when I got to him, he was still alive and I had the satisfaction of hearing him saying, “Jim…, I knew you’d come.”

Many times in life, whether a thing is worth doing or not, really depends on how u looks at it. Take up all your courage and do something your heart tells you to do so that you may not regret not doing it later in your life. May each and every one of you be blessed with the company of TRUE FRIENDS. A true friend is one who walks in, when the rest of the world walks out. War doesn’t determine who’s right. War only determines who’s left.

Оффлайн Sergevna

  • Ветеран
  • *****
  • Сообщений: 465
  • Патриций
    • Просмотр профиля
Re: Military stories
« Ответ #10 : 03 Март 2015, 17:21:07 »
A beautiful true love story

One day, a young guy and a young girl fell in love.

But the guy came from a poor family. The girl’s parents weren’t too happy.

So the young man decided not only to court the girl but to court her parents as well. In time, the parents saw that he was a good man and was worthy of their daughter’s hand.

But there was another problem: The man was a soldier. Soon, war broke out and he was being sent overseas for a year. The week before he left, the man knelt on his knee and asked his lady love, “Will you marry me?” She wiped a tear, said yes, and they were engaged. They agreed that when he got back in one year, they would get married.

But tragedy struck. A few days after he left, the girl had a major vehicular accident. It was a head-on collision.

When she woke up in the hospital, she saw her father and mother crying. Immediately, she knew there was something wrong.

She later found out that she suffered brain injury. The part of her brain that controlled her face muscles was damaged. Her once lovely face was now disfigured. She cried as she saw herself in the mirror. “Yesterday, I was beautiful. Today, I’m a monster.” Her body was also covered with so many ugly wounds.

Right there and then, she decided to release her fiancé from their promise. She knew he wouldn’t want her anymore. She would forget about him and never see him again.

For one year, the soldier wrote many letters—but she wouldn’t answer. He phoned her many times but she wouldn’t return her calls.

But after one year, the mother walked into her room and announced, “He’s back from the war.”

The girl shouted, “No! Please don’t tell him about me. Don’t tell him I’m here!”

The mother said, “He’s getting married,” and handed her a wedding invitation.

The girl’s heart sank. She knew she still loved him—but she had to forget him now.

With great sadness, she opened the wedding invitation.

And then she saw her name on it!

Confused, she asked, “What is this?”

That was when the young man entered her room with a bouquet of flowers. He knelt beside her and asked, “Will you marry me?”

The girl covered her face with her hands and said, “I’m ugly!”

The man said, “Without your permission, your mother sent me your photos. When I saw your photos, I realized that nothing has changed. You’re still the person I fell in love. You’re still as beautiful as ever. Because I love you!”

Author Unknown

Оффлайн Sergevna

  • Ветеран
  • *****
  • Сообщений: 465
  • Патриций
    • Просмотр профиля
Re: Military stories
« Ответ #9 : 03 Март 2015, 17:16:46 »
The Marine’s Father

A nurse took the tired, anxious serviceman to the bedside.
“Your son is here,” she said to the old man. She had to repeat the words several times before the patient’s eyes opened.

Heavily sedated because of the pain of his heart attack, he dimly saw the young uniformed Marine standing outside the oxygen tent. He reached out his hand. The Marine wrapped his toughened fingers around the old man’s limp ones, squeezing a message of love and encouragement.

The nurse brought a chair so that the Marine could sit beside the bed. All through the night the young Marine sat there in the poorly lighted ward, holding the old man’s hand and offering him words of love and strength. Occasionally, the nurse suggested that the Marine move away and rest awhile.

He refused. Whenever the nurse came into the ward, the Marine was oblivious of her and of the night noises of the hospital – the clanking of the oxygen tank, the laughter of the night staff members exchanging greetings, the cries and moans of the other patients.

Now and then she heard him say a few gentle words. The dying man said nothing, only held tightly to his son all through the night.

Along towards dawn, the old man died. The Marine released the now lifeless hand he had been holding and went to tell the nurse. While she did what she had to do, he waited.

Finally, she returned. She started to offer words of sympathy, but the Marine interrupted her.

“Who was that man?” he asked.

The nurse was startled, “He was your father,” she answered.

“No, he wasn’t,” the Marine replied.
“I never saw him before in my life.”

“Then why didn’t you say something when I took you to him?”

“I knew right away there had been a mistake, but I also knew he needed his son, and his son just wasn’t here. When I realized that he was too sick to tell whether or not I was his son, knowing how much he needed me, I stayed.”


Оффлайн Sergevna

  • Ветеран
  • *****
  • Сообщений: 465
  • Патриций
    • Просмотр профиля
Re: Military stories
« Ответ #8 : 03 Март 2015, 17:14:39 »
Military’s love… in sickness!
The passengers on the bus watched sympathetically as the attractive young woman with the white cane made her way carefully up the steps. She paid the driver and, using her hands to feel the location of the seats, walked down the aisle and found the seat he’d told her was empty. Then she settled in, placed her briefcase on her lap and rested her cane against her leg.

It had been a year since Susan, 34, became blind. Due to a medical misdiagnosis she had been rendered sightless, and she was suddenly thrown into a world of darkness, anger, frustration and self-pity. And all she had to cling to was her husband, Mark.

Mark was an Air Force officer and he loved Susan with all his heart. When she first lost her sight, he watched her sink into despair and was determined to help his wife gain the strength and confidence she needed to become independent again.

Finally, Susan felt ready to return to her job, but how would she get there? She used to take the bus, but was now too frightened to get around the city by herself. Mark volunteered to drive her to work each day, even though they worked at opposite ends of the city. At first, this comforted Susan, and fulfilled Mark’s need to protect his sightless wife who was so insecure about performing the slightest task. Soon, however, Mark realized the arrangement wasn’t working. Susan is going to have to start taking the bus again, he admitted to himself. But she was still so fragile, so angry-how would she react?

Just as he predicted, Susan was horrified at the idea of taking the bus again. “I’m blind!,” she responded bitterly. “How am I supposed to know where I am going? I feel like you’re abandoning me.”

Mark’s heart broke to hear these words, but he knew what had to be done. He promised Susan that each morning and evening he would ride the bus with her, for as long as it took, until she got the hang of it. And that is exactly what happened. For two solid weeks, Mark, military uniform and all, accompanied Susan to and from work each day. He taught her how to rely on her other senses, specifically her hearing, to determine where she was and how to adapt her new environment. He helped her befriend the bus drivers who could watch out for her, and save her a seat.

Finally, Susan decided that she was ready to try the trip on her own. Monday morning arrived, and before she left, she threw her arms around Mark, her temporary bus-riding companion, her husband, and her best friend. Her eyes filled with tears of gratitude for his loyalty, his patience, and his love. She said good-bye, and for the first time, they went their separate ways. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday… Each day on her own went perfectly, and Susan had never felt better. She was doing it! She was going to work all by herself.

On Friday morning, Susan took the bus to work as usual. As she was paying the fare to exit the bus, the driver said, “Boy, I sure do envy you.” Susan wasn’t sure if the driver was speaking to her or not. After all, who on earth would ever envy a blind woman who had struggled just to find the courage to live for the past year?

Curious, she asked the driver, “Why do you say that you envy me?” The driver responded, “It must feel good to be taken care of and protected like you are.”

Susan had no idea what the driver was talking about, and again asked, “What do you mean?”

The driver answered, “You know, every morning for the past week, a fine-looking gentleman in a military uniform has been standing across the corner watching you as you get off the bus. He makes sure you cross the street safely and he watches until you enter your office building. Then he blows you a kiss, gives you a little salute and walks away. You are one lucky lady.”

Tears of happiness poured down Susan’s cheeks. For although she couldn’t physically see him, she had always felt Mark’s presence. She was lucky, so lucky, for he had given her a gift more powerful than sight, a gift she didn’t need to see to believe-the gift of love that can bring light where there is darkness.

Author Unknown

Оффлайн Sergevna

  • Ветеран
  • *****
  • Сообщений: 465
  • Патриций
    • Просмотр профиля
Re: Military stories
« Ответ #7 : 23 Февраль 2015, 13:30:36 »
Исправляла  название темы-снова ошибка, надо сообщить модератору))

Оффлайн Марина

  • Ветеран
  • *****
  • Сообщений: 5535
    • Просмотр профиля
Re: Military storis
« Ответ #6 : 16 Февраль 2015, 21:53:56 »
может имеет смысл написать ПРАВИЛЬНОЕ название темы?  ;)

Оффлайн Sergevna

  • Ветеран
  • *****
  • Сообщений: 465
  • Патриций
    • Просмотр профиля
Re: Military storis
« Ответ #5 : 16 Февраль 2015, 20:50:18 »
К сожалению, это не мои рассказы-но выйду на пенсию, и напишу... обещаYOU))) :D

Оффлайн Sergevna

  • Ветеран
  • *****
  • Сообщений: 465
  • Патриций
    • Просмотр профиля
Re: Military stories
« Ответ #4 : 16 Февраль 2015, 19:40:01 »
Попросила  набрать текст...девочка 5 класс, думаю мы её простим и других предупредим-ВСЕГДА кэрьте детей-иначе получите взашей)))
   by the scruff of the neck)))

Thank U 4 watching;)

Оффлайн admist

  • Человек - это животное, занимающееся историей (с)Дидро
  • Ветеран
  • *****
  • Сообщений: 2336
  • Пpoeкт ЦИBИЛИ3AЦИЯ
    • Просмотр профиля
Re: Military storis
« Ответ #3 : 16 Февраль 2015, 17:18:41 »
STORY NUMBER TWO

Ничего не имею против Ваших рассказов, но почему 'storis', а не 'stories'?

Я, правда, давно кончал школу, и правила вполне могли измениться.
В России за десять лет меняется все, а за двести - ничего.

Оффлайн Sergevna

  • Ветеран
  • *****
  • Сообщений: 465
  • Патриций
    • Просмотр профиля
Re: Military storis
« Ответ #2 : 16 Февраль 2015, 16:08:49 »
STORY NUMBER TWO

World War II produced many heroes. One such man was Lieutenant Commander Butch O'Hare.
He was a fighter pilot assigned to the aircraft carrier USS Lexington in the South Pacific. One day his entire squadron was sent on a mission.
After he was airborne, he looked at his fuel gauge and realized that someone had forgotten to top off his fuel tank.
He would not have enough fuel to complete his mission and get back to his ship. His flight leader told him to return to the carrier.
Reluctantly, he dropped out of formation and headed back to the fleet. As he was returning to the mother ship he saw something that turned his blood cold.
A squadron of Japanese aircraft was speeding toward the American fleet. The American fighters were gone on a sortie, and the fleet was all but defenseless.
He couldn't reach his squadron and bring them back in time to save the fleet. Nor could he warn the fleet of the approaching danger.
There was only one thing to do. He must somehow divert them from the fleet. Laying aside all thoughts of personal safety, he dove into the formation of Japanese planes. Wing-mounted 50 caliber's blazed as he charged in, attacking one surprised enemy plane and then another. Butch wove in and out of the now broken formation and fired at as many planes
as possible until all his ammunition was finally spent.
Undaunted, he continued the assault. He dove at the planes, trying to clip a wing or tail in hopes of damaging as many enemy planes as possible and rendering them unfit to fly.
Finally, the exasperated Japanese squadron took off in another direction. Deeply relieved, Butch O'Hare and his tattered fighter limped back to the carrier.
Upon arrival, he reported in and related the event surrounding his return.

The film from the gun-mounted camera on his plane told the tale. It showed the extent of Butch's daring attempt to protect his fleet. He had, in fact, destroyed five enemy aircraft.
This took place on February 20, 1942, and for that action Butch became the Navy's first Ace of W.W.II, and the first Naval Aviator to win the Congressional Medal of Honor.
A year later Butch was killed in aerial combat at the age of 29. His home town would not allow the memory of this WW II hero to fade, and today, O'Hare Airport in Chicago is named in tribute to the courage of this great man.

So, the next time you find yourself at O'Hare International, give some thought to visit Butch's memorial displaying his statue and his Medal of Honor. It's located between Terminals 1 and 2.

SO WHAT DO THESE TWO STORIES HAVE TO DO WITH EACH OTHER?
Butch O'Hare was 'Easy Eddie's' son.

SEMPER FI
The Gunny

Dear Lord
So far today, God, I've done alright
I haven't gossiped
I haven't lost my temper
I haven't been greedy, grumpy, nasty, selfish, or even over-indulgent.
I'm really glad about that.

But in the next few minutes, God,
I'm going to get out of bed,
AND from then on, I'm probably going to need a lot of your help.

AMEN.....
"A good name is more desired than great riches.

Оффлайн Sergevna

  • Ветеран
  • *****
  • Сообщений: 465
  • Патриций
    • Просмотр профиля
Military Humour
« Ответ #1 : 16 Февраль 2015, 15:59:02 »
The Lesson of Easy Eddie

STORY NUMBER ONE

Many years ago, Al Capone virtually owned Chicago...Capone wasn't famous for anything heroic. He was notorious for enmeshing the windy city in everything from bootlegged booze and prostitution to murder. Capone had a lawyer nicknamed 'Easy Eddie.' He was Capone's lawyer for a good reason. Eddie was very good! In fact, Eddie's skill at legal maneuvering kept Big Al out of jail for a long time. To show his appreciation, Capone paid him very well. Not only was the money big, but also, Eddie got special dividends.
For instance, he and his family occupied a fenced-in mansion with live-in help and all of the conveniences of the day. The estate was so large that it filled an entire Chicago City block. Eddie lived the high life of the Chicago mob and gave little consideration to the atrocity that went on around him.Eddie did have one soft spot, however. He had a son that he loved dearly.
Eddie saw to it that his young son had clothes, cars, and a good education. Nothing was withheld. Price was no object.
And, despite his involvement with organized crime, Eddie even tried to teach him right from wrong... Eddie wanted his son to be a better man than he was.
Yet, with all his wealth and influence, there were two things he couldn't give his son; he couldn't pass on a good name or a good example. One day, Easy Eddie reached a difficult decision. Easy Eddie wanted to rectify wrongs he had done.
He decided he would go to the authorities and tell the truth about Al 'Scarface' Capone, clean up his tarnished name, and offer his son some semblance of integrity.
To do this, he would have to testify against The Mob, and he knew that the cost would be great... So, he testified.
Within the year, Easy Eddie's life ended in a blaze of gunfire on a lonely Chicago Street.
But in his eyes, he had given his son the greatest gift he had to offer, at the greatest price he could ever pay.
Police removed from his pockets a rosary, a crucifix, a religious medallion, and a poem clipped from a magazine.

The poem read:
'The clock of life is wound but once,
and no man has the power to tell just when the hands will stop at late or early hour.
Now is the only time you own. Live, love, toil with a will.
Place no faith in time.
For the clock may soon be still.'