In early 1982 B Troop 1st Squadron 11th Armored Cavalry was a rough and tumble outfit.
Like every other combat arms unit in the Army we were convinced that we were the best. While we were technically and tactically proficient, we lacked Army discipline. We did have a somewhat Wild West, hands on brand of discipline, in that it wasn’t unheard of for an NCO to knock some sense into an unruly private behind the tank line in the motor pool.
Of course, the barracks could be a zoo on the weekends. Paydays, about a third of the troops would be in the clubs downtown trying to meet girls or in the brothels doing the same. Most of the rest of the guys would have made substantial investments in cases of beer or bottles of liquor and be sitting barracks rooms playing poker, tonk, or spades. There was the occasional fight. These were usually over and forgotten in a matter of minutes. As long as the fight didn’t turn into a riot or the music get too loud no one bothered us. By Sunday afternoon we would begin putting the barracks back together for Monday morning inspection. Continue reading