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Poor Mule


snowyday
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In the days just before Pearl Harbor our citizen soldiers weren’t always too highly regarded by the folks who lived near the southern camp when I was trying to learn to be a military man.

One blistering summer day found my outfit slogging down a back-country road, sweltering under full field packs. A bend in the road disclosed a barefoot farm boy, holding the halter of an exceedingly poor mule. One of the company wits, always eager to bait a rustic, sang out: “Say, sonny, why are you holding your brother so tight?â€

Back flashed the reply, “To keep the darn fool from joining the army.â€

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