AJChenMPH
Forum Health Inspector
ONE BROILING TEXAS DAY during World War II, I drove out to Fort Swift to pick up my husband. The new sentry at the gate was standing stiffly at attention. "Dismount to be recognized," came his surprisingly formal order. I held out my pass, expecting to be waved on. "Dismount to be recognized!" he barked again. I had kicked off my shoes but couldn't locate them now. So, hot, rumpled and barefoot, I clambered out for official inspection. The soldier, ramrod-straight, clicked his heavy boots together. Then with a wistful glance at my bare feet, he sighed and said, "Gee, I'll bet that feels good!"
--Contributed to "Humor In Uniform" by Virginia Lohela
Provided Courtesy of Reader's Digest.
--Contributed to "Humor In Uniform" by Virginia Lohela
Provided Courtesy of Reader's Digest.
