Lest We Forget Read Online Free Page A

lot of people for that reason.  We had tests on Ranger history and combat lifesaving techniques.  Each time that you passed an event you could feel yourself getting closer to achieving the goal.  We kept a mental countdown the way a nine year old does as Christmas draws nearer. 
    We were on lock down one Sunday.  The few dozen remaining members of our RIP class were cleaning things that had long ago been made spotless, waiting for the next round or torture.  As I polished my boots for the 3rd time I remembered that in basic training if we chose to go to church that they had to release us.  I told my good friend Jess about my plan to escape for a few hours by telling the staff duty officer that I wished to attend Sunday services.  Jess and I had first met in basic training.  He was a great athlete who played soccer in college before joining the Army.  Since he had a degree he had automatically been promoted to Specialist, E4.  His shaved head hid the fact that he had very curly dark hair.  His demeanor always reminded me of Matthew McConaughey in the way that everything was cool.  No matter how bad we were getting crushed, Jess just took it with a grin. 
    Unbeknownst to me some kid overheard our conversation and asked to tag along.  I knew that if more people found out it wouldn't happen.  There is no way that they are going to let 40 of us leave.  We told him to keep his mouth shut about it and he could come.  We head downstairs to ask permission to leave and who is the staff duty?  Yup, Staff Sergeant Runza!  Fuck. My.  Life.
    He wasn't in uniform.  He was sitting with his feet kicked up on the desk in a wife beater and jeans watching TV.  His fingers were interlaced behind his head exposing the tattoos on the insides of his biceps.  One of which was a Catholic nun, spread eagle with her genitals pierced, of course the jewelry dangling from her lady parts was a gold cross.  What else would it be ?
    I attempted to muster up as much courage as I had to ask permission to go to religious services.  He barely glanced at us and replied, "I don't give a fuck."
                  As we turn to leave the kid does something I couldn't believe.  He stops and asks Runza, "Sergeant, what service should we be going to?"
    I can only compare that feeling to that moment when you see the red and blue lights spinning behind you after you ran a red light and you know you are fucked!  Except this guy wasn't going to issue us a ticket, he was going to put our skulls through the brick wall.  Runza's attention is taken from the TV for the first time as he leans forward, spits a wad of tobacco into the trashcan and says, "Do I look like someone who knows when church starts?  Do I look like a mother fucker that believes in GOD?"
    How do you answer that question?  Fuck no he doesn't ; but I'm not going to say that to him.  Luckily he was staring at homeboy that asked the question but we knew that we were just as much on the hook just for being with him.  The kid began to shake a little and replied, "I don't think so Sergeant."  Now, that’s the wrong answer.  Thinking and being in RIP are two diametrically opposed things.  Tell him, no, negative, roger, hell tell him to go fuck himself but don't say some dumb shit like "I don't THINK so."
    To be honest I'm not sure how we made it out of there alive.  I'll tell you one thing, that kid did not graduate!  We ditched him the moment we left the barracks.  The closest church was only a quarter mile away and we didn’t have any desire to walk a step further than necessary.  Never in all my days did I think that I would have attended a full on choir singing Baptist ceremony where my friend and myself were the only two white people in attendance.  It was like a scene from a movie.  We rolled into that place in our tattered grey Army PT uniform with tan lines around our shaved heads marking where our patrol caps sat even with the marching surface (in