Sometime in August or September -- I lost my mind by then -- we wanted to watch MASH.
I mean WE ALL REALLY WANTED TO WATCH MASH.
So, there were in front of the silver screen, the projector almost as loud as the speakers. The smell of excitement in the air. Eyes focused on the screen.
On a planet known as Chinook field far, far away, the single whine of the small hydraulic turbine comes on line.
Eyes glued to the silver screen. Temperatures rising.
The twin engines come alive.
Hooping and hollering begins.
The blades increase in speed.
Naked, Naked ladies.
You hear the blades take to the task of lifting the Chinook into the air.
More naked, naked ladies.
Listen, if was just a 122, we would have been really pissed and probably continued watching!
But NO metal was flying everywhere! whizzing by, hitting metal all around us. OH, my gawd, this is it!
Some new way Charlie was coming at us with a new type of weapon none of us was yet familiar with and WE were in the middle of it and had no idea whee it came from.
125 men went from sex starved to craw daddy mode in an instant. The projector took a direct hit. Not clear if that was friend or foe.
It took what felt like ten minutes for all the metal to stop banging against things and three hours for us to wait for an all clear and realize it wasn't coming.
We all went to bed wondering what the heck happened.
Question, what does a Chinook look like landing upside down on top of where the rotor blades used to be?
Like a totally busted Chinook that landed upside down where the rotor blades used to be.
We never did finish MASH. So, I guess the knock, knock Chinook jokes was a satisfactory compensation.