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Two grizzled master sergeants repaired to the NCO Club to cry in their beer.
Their jawing invariably turned to discussing the 'old army' of yesteryear.
They grew up in the 'brown shoe' army and of it they liked to reminisce.
'Twas 'happy hour', beer was cheap and their gripes went a lot like this:

"By gawd!  Used to be I could take a kid behind the barracks and kick his ass!
Now, ever' time ya turn around they're buggin' ya fer a three-day pass!"
"Yep, they think they can git away with anything jesh 'cause they're a volunteer!
Ya won't believe what I shaw today!  An earring danglin' from a soldier's ear!"

"We ate C-rations in our day without all them fanchy frills they have today.
Today, if a kid don't git schteak and lobster on hish plate there's 'ell to pay!"
"It wassh called a 'mesh hall' in the old army and we ate off'n schteel trays.
Now, it's a 'dinin'' facility' and, yesh, we schlept on cots in open bays!"

"Yesh.  Things was so schimple when all we dealt with was mornin' reports.
I'm scared of them computin' things that is invadin' all the army forts!"
"In the old days I'd tell a kid what to do and he wouldn't give me no shass!
In the new army if I chew out mommy's boy he goes schlobberin' to the brass!"

"Now, they make us wear them silly lookin' berets jesh like them blimey Brits!"
"Yesh.  I don't know about you but I schtink it's time I called it quits!"
"Yesh.  I agree.   I schtink it's time to retire and end this miserable career!"
"But jush a minute, old pal.  Before happy hour ends lesh have 'nother beer!"

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
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