What Are Friends For?

by

The first part of this story has been on the site for a month, so if you’ve already read it, skip to the part entitled Will’s Perspective.

We really couldn’t have planned this shit.

1 September

For those of you that don’t know what Ranger School is, the short version goes like this: You spend two months executing complex missions while being deprived of both food and sleep. Currently, there are four (really three because the first two occur at Fort Benning) phases: Ranger Assessment Phase, Darby Phase, Mountain Phase, and Swamp Phase. It is designed to replicate worst-case field conditions, and in the infantry community is considered essential training for leaders.

Ranger School is not fun. Don’t get me wrong, it was one of the best experiences of my entire life and it was extremely important in developing me as a leader and a man, but if anyone tells you they had a great time, they are either lying or drunk or both. While you’re there, you basically think about food and sleep…mostly food. You hallucinate and your body eliminates all muscle that is not necessary to carry a rucksack and walk all day long. You don’t even think about women anymore (I have never felt this phenomenon prior to or after Ranger School). In fact, the only other thing that you think about and look forward to is the mail. The mail is your lifeline to the real world. Mail is the motivation you need on a crappy day and a great pick-me-up when you’re miserable. Thus begins our latest journey.

We have a friend named Will. Will is a freshly minted 2LT who just completed the Darby Phase of Ranger School. Will is a great guy who takes his development very seriously – he reads classic books on war craft, writes introspective essays exploring whether he is ready for the mantle of leadership, and takes every training opportunity he can find in order to improve. When I met Will at the jiu-jitsu class I taught, I immediately knew that he’d be the kind of lieutenant that I would have loved to have work for me…and that I would enjoy f*cking with.

Will has provided a huge distribution e-mail list to his father that lists basically every human being that he has ever encountered. His father, who is a great American, keeps us up to date on his progress and provides us with his ever-so-important mailing address. Brad and I are also on this list.

As one of the few people that Will knows who actually has Army and certainly Ranger School experience, I probably should be sending him tons of letters telling him to drive on and whatnot. Instead, however, I have decided to send him tons of pictures of naked dudes with condoms in the envelopes. I have over a dozen of these cards out. Each one is lovingly affixed with the label “Do not open in front of RI” (RI = Ranger Instructor). This statement, combined with the condom, which the RIs will perceive as gum, will ensure that these cards all are opened to reveal a giant cornucopia of “maleness” and condoms right there in the middle of the patrol base. I have also taken the liberty of sending Will a ten-inch, black, anatomically impressive sex toy in a box marked TA-50. TA-50 refers to personal military equipment and the fact that it is marked in this manner means that the RIs will allow Will to open the box in the patrol base in front of them, rather than make him wait for the phase break, where he could open it in private.

I would pay a lot of money to see this situation unfold.

It will be priceless.

I will update you as this situation develops.

Will’s Perspective

11 OctoberNever mind the dozen cards with naked dudes that I received. Never mind the condoms. Here’s the part I really appreciated.

At the end of mountain phase, you get a chance to shop at the PX, buy from the commissary, and open your care packages – then you have a few hours to stuff your face as much as possible before preparing for the jump into Florida.

I got four care packages. I was stoked. My mom sent me some awesome cookies and some nutrition bars and my best friend Stefan sent some peanut butter and snacks and surprisingly, I got two packages from Nick… I thought, “Oh, cool…he must be making up for the cards…”

When we receive packages, we have to open them in front of a Ranger Instructor so that he can verify we have no contraband or whatever. So, I open one package. It’s flesh colored and immediately I’m like “WTF” and the RI is like, “You’re kidding me.” Yes, it’s a dildo. Awesome. Meanwhile, everyone around me has noticed I have a tasty plastic cock in my hands and my “package” is garnering some attention (as it often does).

I open the second package. It’s wrapped in plastic. For a moment, I think it’s one of those oversized chocolate bunnies you get at Easter. And I’m like, “Oh, cool… so Nick sent me one gag gift and then some candy. Neat. Nice guy, that Nick.” I start getting confused, though, and I’m like, “What the fuck is the date? When the fuck is Easter?” I unwrap the plastic and just about the time I am about to place it in my mouth I realize that yes, it’s another dildo. “Chocolate” this time. Yum.

The RI can’t tell if he should attack me for being a homosexual or if he’s going to fall on the ground laughing. I currently have a penis in each hand. One black, one white. I felt like a deranged MLK / equal opportunity advertisement gone horribly wrong. I’m like, “Well, I guess I’ll just throw these away. What a waste of money, Nick, you fucking jackass.” But the RI, who was only a moderate dickhead and gave me a No-Go on my first patrol, says, “You’re keeping those. They’re now a sensitive item. I’m telling the Florida RIs about this so you better have these on your person when you get down there.”

Fuck. Everyone’s laughing hysterically and now I get to carry around two fake dicks. I manage to get rid of one by sticking it in my weapon’s case for the actual airborne jump into Florida (yes, I jumped two cocks – did I just say that?). I tossed it on the drop zone like a used up good luck charm. The other one (the oversized Chocolate Bunny) was stuffed in my duffel bag. Luckily, the first thing we do upon meeting the Florida RI’s is dump our gear. I go ahead and walk up to the RI, a huge prick, and I say, “I…uh… have something in my gear… that isn’t… uh… on the packing list.”

“What is it? A dildo?”

“Roger, sergeant.”

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

This guy takes my dick and runs with it. He forces me to sew a Ranger Tab on it. He then decides our platoon is going to have a “Keeper of the Dick” – I of course am the first recipient. The Keeper of the Dick became anyone who did something really stupid, like, I don’t know, pack a dildo in your gear (not that I had a choice). That person had to carry around the dick and be able to present it to the RI upon demand. Luckily, after it was bestowed upon the next unfortunate soul, I didn’t carry it again for the rest of the phase. This RI, anytime someone fucked up or he met a new RI who hadn’t heard the HILARIOUS story of the guy with the dildo, would shout to our platoon, “Bring me the Keeper of the Dick!” Then he’d make the Keeper show them all the dildo and give it to the next idiot.

Great times. Great dudes. Great cocks.

Fuck you, Nick.

Copyright of Nick