With thanks to 12215 Dave “Farley” Mowat

During our recruit term, we used to have drills classes every other day, in addition to all the marching we did.  At this point in the recruit term, we had actually advanced enough to begin drill movements which included our heavy FNC-1 rifle. During one of our first classes, our drill instructor took great pains to sternly warn us that if we were ever foolish enough to drop our weapon, we better "damn well hit the deck before that rifle!” 

Several days later, on what happened to be a particularly cold morning, we had another drill class with the same instructor. Everything seemed to be going quite well, so much so that we were were starting to gain more and more confidence in our abilities. About twenty minutes in to the class, our hands were starting to get really cold. On the next drill movement, the command was given to “Fix Bayonets”, one which required the recruit to thrust the rifle forward at an angle. Jim Sullivan dutifully pushed his rifle out but that darn thing did not stop and instead slipped from his numb hand and made a very loud clanking noise as it struck the pavement and shuddered a couple of times before stopping.  We all immediately froze, briefly glancing down first at the fallen rifle and then out of the corner of ours eyes at Jim. Jim looked down at his rifle, and then slowly back up at the instructor. After a couple of seconds, he lifted one finger in the air, motioning for the drill instructor to “Wait One”.  Then he slowly got down on one knee, bent down and gently lay down beside his rifle, adjusting his head so it rested comfortably on his cupped hands, on the barrel of the rifle.  The instructor looks at him in complete disbelief, and then quickly canted his head away, but we could still see his contorted face trying to suppress a laugh.  I cannot even remember what he did to us after that, but whatever it was, it was worth it!