A relative newcomer to my unit at Fort Benning, John Gould, approached me one day during the muster formation and told me he had a proposition for me. John Gould was the hapless roommate of one Tim Rupert. I told Gould I could talk with him after the muster formation. When I talked with him, Gould asked me if I had any plans for Thanksgiving. I told him that I did not have any plans. He asked if I wanted to go back to Delaware with him and share the driving. I looked at him and asked, “You want me to go with you to Delaware for Thanksgiving? What’s in Delaware?” He replied, “I used to be in the Air Force. I was stationed at Dover Air Force Base in Dover, Delaware. We would be driving to Dover, Delaware. We would be going up there to have Thanksgiving with some of my friends and relatives. What do you think? Do you want to go?” “So, what day would we leave? And how long would we be gone?” “Well, we would leave the Tuesday night before Thanksgiving as soon as we get off work. We would drive through the night and get there Wednesday morning sometime. And we would leave the Sunday morning after Thanksgiving to get back here in time for muster on Monday morning.” “Okay. Count me in. I guess.” I packed an overnight bag with a few extra shirts, socks, and underwear. I only had one jacket, so it would have to do. I didn’t know how cold it would get up there in Delaware. I had no clue. I hoped that I wasn’t going to freeze my ass. Only time would tell. Gould drove a Dodge power wagon which was a half-ton pickup truck. On the evening of the trip, we headed north out of Fort Benning on highway 27 to Interstate 185. Then, we headed north on Interstate 185 to Interstate 85. Next, we took Interstate 85 to Atlanta to the intersection of Interstate 20 East. We took Interstate 20 East to the intersection with Interstate 95 North. Next, we took Interstate 95 North all the way to Delaware. In Delaware, we headed south on Delaware Highway 1 South, US Route 13 South to Dover. The first place we went, when we got to Dover, Delaware was to Dover Air Force Base. Gould took me to the airframe maintenance shop that he used to work at when he was in the Air Force. We met some of the friends that he had come up here to visit over the Thanksgiving holiday. He introduced me and then we hung out for a while. Were we off to a fun start or what? I think the jury was still out on that. I think someone with constipation had more excitement sitting in the toilet than I was having right at that moment. No doubt about it. We went over to his relatives’ house where we were going to stay for a few days. And it seemed like we got there just in time. Everybody seemed to be going someplace. Another observation that I made was that everyone seemed to drive pickup trucks, specifically Dodge power wagons. Man, those people sure did love those Dodge power wagons. Yeah. I get it. There was a big kick by the federal government to bail out the Chrysler Corporation. But seriously? These near the Beltway bandits (notice I said near the Beltway bandits, I didn’t say they were the Beltway bandits) had jumped all the way on the bandwagon. You had to heave a stone one helluva long way across the Chesapeake Bay from Dover in order to hit the politicians in Washington, D.C. But those guys seemed hell-bent on kissing the politicians’ asses, anyway. For what? I’m pretty sure the politicians weren’t sliding them any extra tax breaks. And every damn one of those pickup trucks had a gun rack hanging behind the seat. I’m just saying. No judgments. And a gun rack just wouldn’t look right in the back window of a pickup truck without any guns hanging in it. Now, would it? Nope. Not at all. So of course, all of those gun racks were full of guns, shotguns to be exact. Now the question on my mind was, where in the hell were they going with all those damn shotguns? My question was soon answered. Gould looked at me and said, “Wright, we got here just in time. They’re headed for a turkey shoot.” I was thinking to myself, “Just exactly what in the hell is a turkey shoot?” I had no idea. A turkey shoot was a novel concept to me. All sorts of wild ideas were running through my mind. I imagined that we were driving to a turkey farm where there were a bunch of turkeys in a corral, and we were going to take pot shots at a few of them in order to have a turkey dinner. This was sort of like going out to chop down a Christmas tree only different. They were going out to shoot a turkey for the Thanksgiving meal. I didn’t know what else to think. But what else could it be? And why so many guns? It was not like not like the turkeys were going to shoot back or something. Were they? I didn’t think so. The last time I had checked, turkeys still hadn’t acquired the capability to shoot guns and organize into fighting forces. But I might be wrong. When we got out to where the turkey shoot was being held, it all became clear. Each person was allowed one shot at a piece of paper 50 yards away. There was an X within a circle, about the size of a dime, drawn on the piece of paper. The person who put a BB closest to the X within the circle won the turkey shoot. Each person had to use a 12-gauge shotgun loaded with one, two and three-quarter inch four-shot cartridge. The cost to enter the turkey shoot was $10. Gould asked me to pay $10 and join the turkey shoot. I thought what the hell and paid 10 bucks to give it a try. I don’t remember who won and I don’t really care. I just know I didn’t win. And I also know that a whole bunch of turkeys didn’t get slaughtered in a free-for-all shoot out. Other than that turkey shoot, the trip to Delaware proved to be a total exercise in futility and a total waste of time.
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