by Frank Rodgers

We had the weekend off after a hard week of training. We hit one of the nameless bars that surround all military bases. Seems like there are only 3 things around EVERY base in the US: Pawn Shops, Dive Bars, and Tit-Shacks. We went to a dive bar.

My ATL (asst. Team Leader) and I pick up two semi-cute girls. They know we're in the Army - EVERYONE is in the Army at that bar. They know we're Rangers, because no other soldier has a high and tight as short as ours. Also, no other soldier says "hooah" as much as we do, and "Roger that" and the like. My romancing skills are at the top of their game, and my ATL and I convince the women to come back to our hotel with us.

I won't go into specifics, but after a half hour or so of passionate (okay, not passionate--more animalistic) fucking, all four of us are spent. The girls are relaxing and lighting up one of their filter-tip 1000 smokes, and I go out for more ice to throw in the tub to keep the 4 cases of beer cold. I am outside filling a trash bag when I see one of my Privates. He's lounging outside his room with a weird look on his face.

"Hey Sarn't, you and Corporal [Francis] havin a good time?"

"Sure Ranger. How y'all doin? You keepin busy and makin the most of your night?"

"Yeah Sarn't, but none of us has gotten laid yet. this town sucks. Not a ONE of us has managed to squeeze out any quality tail here."

"Well, me and [ATL] just got done with a couple of honeys. We can see if they have any friends. I don't want my Rangers to go home with blue-balls."

I wanna take care of my boys. They keep busy and have fun, and they're more productive later on. Besides, who knows? Maybe these girls will want to call their friends or something.

We mosey back into the room and I introduce Private [Highspeed] to them. Highspeed is a hyper little dude, but one of the most aggressive Rangers I've ever met. He's a badass on his SAW, and fucking surgical with his fire. I have seen him cut targets in half. He's a Private and I'm a Sergeant, but we have that closeness that Soldiers have. I love him like my own brother. Being a Battboy, I also wanna take care of my guys.

Highspeed asks the girls if they have any friends. They say yeah, but they're all out at some barn dance, or truck pull, or something. Highspeed is bummed out and announces "I GOTTA get some pussy soon or I'm gonna go berserk." One of the girls tells him she's more than willing to bed him down. The other girl agrees to and utters the fateful words of the evening:

"If you have any friends, send them in here. We'll take care of them."

She didn't even get the word "Them" out when Rangers started pouring in from everywhere. I had no idea they were all in the vicinity, but in they came. The girls were a bit bewildered, but they agreed to handle the load.

I stare in utter disbelief at the ensuing scene. Picture 10 Rangers on each side, all waiting their turns. One after the other, like some fucked up porno, they screw these girls with aplomb.

Though a bit disturbing, I had gone first and the girls were more than willing, so I was alright with it. But after a few guys had their turn, it started to smell. And not just smell, it was The Funk.

The Funk is that mixture of beer, smoke, and pussy juice. It smells bad. I mean BAD. Like not washing your dick for a week and then expecting some chick to give you a peeny-lick. I had to go outside. ATL follows me.

I am smoking a cigarette, and drinking a cold one, when Smitty comes crawling out on all fours. He comes out on the balcony, THROWS UP, and sits there waiting for his head to clear. I asked him what happened. He looks at me and says "Well, I went down on my girl, but something was wrong. I wound up with a mouthful of some green shit."

Man, I may be a hardass Ranger, but that is fucking wrong. What was even MORE wrong though was the phrase he uttered next:

"But I gotta go back for more. I promised I’d finish."

Folks, that is the definition of hard. Seriously hard core. He went back in there and upheld the Ranger Creed, "Surrender is NOT a Ranger word." I was so proud of the little guy, I gave him a day off the next week.

He needed it too, that bitch unleashed some crabs on him that had him itching like a concentration camp inmate. That was my first and last time pulling a train.