We left Kaserne that afternoon and went down into Wiesbaden-Erbenheim. They'd made the mistake of paying us that weekend, we were sick and tired of drinks on the base, and enough of us knew how to solve for X. Climbed into the back of a passing motorist's truck and within a half hour we were trying Old World lager for the first time. Funny enough? I don't have a taste for it.
O'Malley must've seen the way I was looking at the bartender. When the conversation was quiet enough, and he found his courage, he asked the whole table if they thought I was "a queer". Phrased it like that. Fuckhead. He saw the way I paused a little too long and gave me this grin. So downed the rest of my beer and said "Of course I am, your mom kisses your forehead with the same mouth she uses to lick my lips". That got him real pissed, especially when Fieldman accused me of fucking goats, on account of the lineage of O'Malley's mother. But god bless him he saved my ass with that and we all laughed and carried on like the grand ol' finest of the U.S.A.
About a week later I crept up on O'Malley, pulled a bag over his head and whipped his ass until he begged me to stop. Didn't see me coming, off the cameras, wore gloves, whole nine yards. Shame he took it out on Fieldman with the military police. Meant I had to hit him again until he rescinded the incident.
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