Die Michelin Man!

We have been carrying our weapons around for a while now. We learned to march with them, take them apart, clean them, and put them back together. We all want to finally shoot them. Today....is not the day. Remember those old WWI movies where enemy soldiers come storming into the trench and everyone gets locked in a bayonet fight because automatic rifles weren't invented back then? Well, today we practiced the fine art of bayonet fighting. After several dry run practice sessions, they took us to a training area where hundreds of "Michelin Men" stand in rows and columns, ready for comat. A Michelin Man consists of a pole about 5' tall, to which is ffastened a tire, turned to simulate a chest. There is a circular piece of thick rubber, where the hubcap would be. The "head" is formed by a little seciton of cut tire bolled on top of the main tire. Finally, a 4' long, 4" diameter hard wood pole is fastened to the bottom of the main tire, on a hinge, to simulate the opponent's weapon. We first had to parry the enemy "rifle" out of the way, then attack with one of a number of different strokes. Unfortunately, they fight back. The spring on the enemy rifle is pretty strong. The first one I hit out of the way snapped right back at me and whacked my finger. It hurt pretty good for an hour, and left a bruise under my fingernail.

Driving away from the training area, I realized that someone in the Army is either completely dense, or has a great sense of humor. Viewing the scores of Michelin Men from the side, I realized that I was looking at row after row, column after column phallic symbols! Very unmistakingly so. When I pointed it out to my battle buddies, we had a great laugh....it made our day.