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Updated: August 16, 2007



Vinny, Ranger Up Fan and Lead Singer of Winny und die Moneybags

I never knew this until I was stationed there but Germany has a HUGE numbers of wild pigs…actually pigs isn’t quite right – they’re wild boars. You know, they’re fast, aggressive and nasty as shit with big freaking tusks and given the chance will fuck you up!

They literally are EVERYWHERE. If you leave any food out they will come from miles around to check it out and devour whatever they find. They’re evil creatures really, and like the capybara, they serve no real purpose in nature.

Hardest 3 days of our lives…

Anyway, near where I was stationed in Friedberg we had a local training area that was out in the middle of the woods on a mountain appropriately called FTA – Friedberg Training Area. We’d go out there for small unit level training events in squads and platoons and do training without our Bradley Fighting Vehicles. Sometimes it was good fun to heckle the forest-meisters who would follow us around with their handlebar moustaches, lederhosen and notepads. They were the German equivalent of our forestry service and used to fine us umpteen thousand dollars for every damaged tree or bush we left in our wake. In this particular instance I was a platoon leader and I had brought my platoon out there for 3 days to do a bunch of dismounted training.

No vehicles meant we would train all day, do some more training at night and then when we’d sleep on the ground with our fart sacks or poncho liners. Well one of my team leader sergeants – we’ll call him SGT G – was TERRIFIED of wild pigs. I mean he would nearly shit himself even just talking about them. He would actually mix some kind of concoction in an old mayonnaise jar of garlic, piss and a bunch of other foul smelling shit and bring it to the field. He called it his hog repellant and he’d spread it all around wherever he laid down to go to sleep at night.

Tell the guys what you’re afraid of – what could possibly go wrong?

So no shit….there we were. One night we finished training and set up a patrol base and went into our sleep plan at 75% security….this means that 75% of the platoon is always awake at regular intervals around the perimeter and they pull security. Well after a few hours of telling war stories, tales of what we’d do with various farm animals for $1,000,000 and singing along with old Bee Gees songs (yes – we were very tactical)it was SGT G’s turn to sleep. It was around this time that I hatched a little scheme…we’d been telling him all day that we were gonna leave food out to lure in the hogs at night time. Each time he would scream at us ever so eloquently, “You fucking better not!!!”

Well that night when it was his turn he climbed into his fart sack, sprinkled some “hog repellant” around him and went right to sleep. So I grabbed a washcloth from my rucksack, rolled it up and wet the end of it. The idea here was to simulate a big juicy pig snout….round and wet. Well once he was good and asleep I unzipped the top of his fart sack right where his head was and proceeded to grunt and make pig sounds and touch his face with the wet washcloth. The whole fucking platoon was watching this like a bunch of girls at a slumber party through their nods (night vision goggles).

(NOTE: This was the only time in my Army career I almost achieved 100% security because nobody but SGT G wanted to sleep as they knew what was coming. They had to cover their mouths because they couldn’t keep from laughing their asses off)

Torture is only awful if it’s not funny…

Well I kept poking SGT G with the rag and grunting in my best hog call fashion. I also had my nods on so I could see his reaction. His first reaction was to pull his hands out of his fart sack and flail them around as if he were chasing flies away and not a giant ferocious boar hog. So I stopped for a few minutes and waited for him to move his hands back into his fart sack and presumably down to his nether-region. Then I continued the grunting and snout-poking. Well his eyes suddenly opened and almost popped out of his head. He jumped up screaming and tried running so fucking fast that he didn’t realize he was still zipped up in his fart sack…and he fucking tumbles down this big ass hill screaming the whole fucking time.

Once he rolled all the way down he unzipped himself and started just running and screaming. It was like an hour and a half that went by before he finally came back. We were crying we were laughing so damn hard. When he finally came back his face was all bruised and shit….turns out while he was running he kept running into trees and bushes because there was about 0% illumination and he couldn’t see a damn thing.


That was almost the hardest I have ever fucking laughed in my life. I learned 2 things that night:

1) SGT G was really afraid of the hogs


2) I do a really good fucking pig call…SOOOOEEEEYYYY!!!



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