Tuesday, August 21, 2018

JOHN WAYNE SLEPT HERE ( A Trooper Bob Tale)


             It’s been awhile since I written a Trooper Bob story, in fact it’s been awhile since I’ve been here.   I could say I’ve been busy but that isn’t completely true.  I could tell you I’ve been depressed, kind of like Duane in Larry McMurtry’s Duane’s Depressed.  But I haven’t taken up walking everywhere.  I could tell you all kinds of things but the truth is, I don’t know why I haven’t been here. 

              I have been spending a lot of time with Trooper Bob lately and every now and then a story will fall out of his brain and I have been remiss in reporting them here.  I know that man has more stories than Carter has little liver pills.  If you don’t know who Carter is or what little liver pills are, well GOOGLE it! 


              I digress.  Let’s welcome back the Chronicles of Trooper Bob.


           They sat in the old stone building.  The one where John Wayne had slept, where George Patton had smoked his cigars and written in his journal.  They had gathered from all over the state.  The border was in a state of flux and there was an uprising on the horizon.  The Colonel had given the order and they had gathered with their riot gear driven hundreds of miles and now they were waiting for word.  A gaggle of men dressed in summer wool DPS uniforms in the South Texas heat, waiting.  Some played cards, some read Zane Grey novels bought at the five and dime in Brackettville but most napped.  They napped because it was smart to grab the sleep when you could.  Tomorrow was unknown.  Heck and hour from now was iffy.
 


           Trooper Deal and Trooper Bob sat talking old times and telling tales.  Waiting for others to nod off so they could play a prank or two on the unsuspecting victim.  Sometimes it was as simple as the shaving cream and feather trick which would cause the newly shaving cream covered victim to come alive spitting and cussing while the rest would scream in laughter. 
           The worst part of the detail was the waiting.  The waiting produced boredom and boredom gave them way too much time to come up with new ways in which to torment the other. 
            The shadows were getting long and another day had almost passed when the bell clanged and they shifted from leaned back chairs and legs draped over easy chair arms.  They had been waiting for something to happen and now it had.  Chow time.  Trooper Bob eased off his chair and picked up his gun belt.   Strapping it on he also stuffed something in his pocket.  He wandered close behind the others smirking just a little
            “Hey, Hutch” cried Deal “I’m so hungry I could eat the south end of a north bound cow.”
            “The way that hamburger tasted at lunch it might have been all asshole” Trooper Bob replied.
            “Well I guess you’d know what asshole tasted like, you bein one and all” Byron shot back.
            “I’ll remember you said that, I have a long memory” Bob answered.
They filed into the mess hall and pulled out the metal chairs lined along the makeshift tables.  Bob made his way around the table passed the Colonel’s chair at the head of the table pausing just a moment to notice a nice cushion placed on the chair.  Guess old lead bottom had a delicate derriere he mused.  Then he moved on. 
            Colonel Leadbottom stood at the end of the table cleared his throat and in his best imitation of George Patton he gave his speech.  How in difficult time brave men step forward to do their duty.  He droned on and the men shuffled feet and fidgeted in their seats.  Their greasy fried chicken and instant mashed potatoes grew cold on their plates the gravy congealing in puddles.  Finally, he finished up and lowered his incredibly ample ass onto the chair.   PLFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT echoed through the stone walls. Someone in the back of the room yelled AMEN!   Leadbottom jumped to his feet huffing and puffing, he stormed around his chair.  Leaned over and with thumb and forefinger plucked a whoopee cushion from his chair.  The room erupted in laughter.   Leadbottom stormed out leaving his congealed gravy and soggy chicken.
Trooper Bob grinned knowing that the Ben Franklin sold more than just Zane Grey novels and Juicy Fruit.
            Night fell and the stars shone bright over the old fort.  Ghost of Pecos Bill and Skinny Jim Wainwright haunted the halls and watched over the troopers.  Snores echoed through walls and off of the wooden beams.  All quiet on the border. 

            The next morning the word came and the big yellow school buses started pulling up in front of the Officer’s Quarters.  The men roused from their beds cowlicks standing tall and sleep still in their eyes began their preparations.  The troopers shined their boots, cinched on their Sam Browns and pinned on their badges.  There were no jokes, no grab assing.  This was serious.  This was Poncho Villa serious.  There was a border war brewing and these men were the first line of defense.  They checked their cartridges and revolvers grabbed their shields, replaced their signature Stetson hats with helmets and moved out.  
            One by one they boarded the buses; the Colonel checked the names off his roster.  They were seated side by side, ready to do or die.  The Colonel cleared his throat and gave the instructions.  “On this auspicious occasion we must remember these are civilians, Mexican citizens.  Remember no violence unless necessary.  We are here to defend our citizens, never attack.  Keep your cool don’t let them goad you into a battle.  We are here as a show of force. I know you all have trained for riots but remember this is not training, men.  This is the real deal.  Now, does anyone one have any questions?”
            The men squirmed a bit not really sure what to expect.  The colonel made it sound so ominous.  Was there really going to be violence?  Was the joking around and hijinks over and now it was all business? 
            Deal raised his hand “Colonel, sir?”
            “Yes Deal?” the Colonel replied
            “Shouldn’t somebody stay back and defend the fort?” Deal asked with a straight face.
            “Shut up Deal and put on your helmet” The Colonel shouted over a bus full of laughter.
            Trooper Deal leaned over and whispered to Trooper Bob “John Wayne would have never left the fort undefended.”



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