The Called Shot:

While in the army, the unit I was in had to go qualify firing our weapons and then go on a parachute jump at one of the drop zones at Fort Bragg, North Carolina. Earlier in the day an order to carry certain items such as: pen, writing tablet, white hanky (lady in distress thing I guess) and $.20 for emergency phone call was issued. I went to the local PX store with a room mate of mine to purchase the writing tablet. They were two for whatever at the time. I paid for two of them. My room mate said you only need one of them. I replied I might need two. I paid and we left to go to the firing range.
At the firing range after firing our weapons, it was our turn in the pits raising and lowering the targets. A short while later it was out turn for a break, course this was behind the pit area. Our small platoon was in a circle smoking cigarettes, I looked up and noticed the targets were held in metal frames. I asked if anyone ever got hit down here by the bullets. I was told it could never happen. Just then a bullet zinged and the next thing I knew, I was bent over and my arm was hanging down near the ground. Just inches below my hand was the bullet that hit me. I picked it up and laughed and said “called shot!”
The rest of the platoon was freaked out. And the officer in charge of the pit area took my bullet and made some call on the radio. I never got my lucky bullet back, which really ticked me off at the time.
I had a hole in my uniform and a hole in my writing tablet, my second writing tablet was still serviceable.
Maybe another time i will tell about Oct 24, 2004. That was the day i died. I have so many true stories. :wink: