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Although the current speculation from the Bush transition headquarters is that former Texas Sen. John Tower is the front-runner to become secretary of defense, we have a Republican senator from Colorado who is concerned and knowledgeable about major defense issues.
Sen. William Armstrong has demonstrated this by demanding that magazines like Playboy and Penthouse no longer be sold on military installations. In a speech to a religious group earlier this year, he also called for more awareness of spiritual values in our armed forces.
However, if Armstrong became defense secretary, we might see some major changes in military traditions:
The two battle-weary GI's trudged across a clearing in the tropical jungle of an obscure Third World nation. Theirs was not to reason why, although they were in fact risking their lives to rescue American students who had gone to a foreign college because the students couldn't get into medical school back home, but still wanted to earn $150,000 a year and the respect of their communities by becoming physicians.
Rat-a-tat small-arms fire suddenly erupted from the edge of the clearing. Willie and Joe instantly hit the ground. Warily raising his head just a bit, Willie spotted the source of the sniper fire. He writhed in the muck; staying prone, he wrestled his M-16 up to his shoulder.
No, you can't shoot at them,
Joe hollered,
shoving Willie's barrel and displacing his aim.
What?
Willie asked in astonishment. They're
firing at us. We've got to fire back.
No,
countermanded Joe. Remember the standing
orders from Secretary Armstrong. We are part of the armed
forces of the United States, and it is our duty to protect
the constitution, everything except the First Amendment
anyway, and to honor the divine commandments.
Sorry. I forgot.
Willie dropped his weapon and
rolled slightly. This is about the best I can do at
turning the other cheek.
Hope it's enough,
grunted Joe. His hopes were
rewarded as the withering gunfire abated and their
ambushers moved on. The two soldiers clambered to their
feet and continued, reaching their outfit's field camp
within the hour. A hot meal was waiting for the
patrols.
After reporting in, Willie and Joe got into the mess
line. What's for chow?
Willie wondered.
The usual.
You mean sh...
Joe interrupted him. Remember, Willie, the orders
from Secretary Armstrong.
Sorry. I keep forgetting that we're supposed to call
it
creamed chipped beef on toast.
Old habits die
hard.
This was one of the army's most difficult missions, mostly on account of communication complications. The grizzled topkicks who actually ran the army discovered that 80 percent of their daily working vocabulary had vanished in the Armstrong purification; they couldn't even refer to snafus any more.
But American soldiers persisted in the face of such adversity. It also helped that they had an 80 to 1 numeric advantage over the local forces.
Within a week, the tropical nation was liberated. Willie and Joe joined the triumphant entry into its capital. The fighting was over; they had been issued latex protective coverings, which they had dutifully stretched over their rifle muzzles to prevent rust.
On a side street, they were approached by attractive women in short skirts and low-cut blouses.
Hey, American GI,
the women clamored. You got
Hershey bars? Cigarettes? I got deal for you.
What on earth could they be offering?
Joe
whispered to Willie.
Willie searched his mind. There was a hint, but he
wasn't sure. I don't exactly know,
he confessed.
It's been years since I even thought about such things.
As a matter of fact, I haven't been troubled by a single
impure thought since Secretary Armstrong got them to quit
selling Playboy and Penthouse at the PX.
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