Served my hitch, Found out after I got out, I sort of liked it. Got conscripted into the South African forces back in the "bad ole days". The old soldier settled back into our uncomfortable kitchen chair. I am not ashamed to say, by this point I was sucked in. "Well, ess is sort of a soldiers bogeyman, do bad things: Kill women, children, prisoners,and innocents, Roland will find you.Take you to go meet the Devil." Oh wonderful, just sold a nut case a battle rifle. "You have never heard of Roland than? Roland the Headless Thompson gunner?"
With an obvious look of relief on the old mans face he says "Good, you should not be seeing Roland than." "Yeah, wife has cleaned it up a little, but still has my bad taste all over it." He smiles than it quickly drained away.With a cold look he asks "Were you a good soldier? Did your job? Nothing EXTRA?" I thought that was a rather odd question, but responded "I would like to think so, no, nothing special." "Sort of figured, the pants (was wearing the3 color dessert), marble chucker (.45 reference), Odd taste in decorations." "You a Soldier are ye?" "Yes sir"I reply. He says to me after hanging up the phone with NICS he asks. The whole time he keeps starring at his rifle, almost like he is expecting it to say something. Naturalized US citizen.Oh, no problems I hope.
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"Oh sure, no problem, just need your drivers license for the paperwork."Įxchanged paperwork, i fill out my section, return his license. Begins to pick it up and stops, turns to me and asks He tucks the glasses into a shirt pocket and walks over to the rifle. Eyes that had a lot of miles on them and seen unspeakable things. He takes off his glasses revealing a pair of squinty, tired eyes. I lead the old salt inside to the kitchen table where the rifle sat in its open box.
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