while in the army we were shooting at maximum elevation over a mountain...we had 18 155 guns and 4 -8 inch guns...half way up that mountain was papa-sons straw hut...when we fired it usally sounded like we were poping pop corn...when the order came to fire all the guns went off at the same time...papa sons house literally disappeared in a cloud of smoke....out of the smoke came papa son charging down that mountain with him yelling at the top of his lungs....he had a wooden pitch fork in his hands....what a brave man charging a battalion of men alone he was....we all looked to see who s gun had hit the straw hut but nary a gun was aimed at the hut...the blast from all the guns had blowed the hut away...I ll never forget that papa son charging down that mountain with the wooden pitchfork in his hands or that straw hut just disappearing in a cloud of smoke....charlie
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