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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Action & Adventure
- Subject: General Interest
- Published: 12/26/2019
Smith & Wesson
Born 1950, M, from Sparta, il, United StatesIt’s 1977. At twenty-seven years of age, it was also the first time I came face to face with a real Smith & Wesson experience. I was in the US Army and stationed at Ft. Bliss in El Paso, Texas.
CJ, my wife, and I lived on base. Neither my wife nor I liked living in El Paso. It was hot all the time. There was always lots of traffic. For a big city, it didn’t seem to offer much in the way of entertainment.
El Paso’s climate is hot and dry. We frequently commented on the lack of vegetation. In fact, we would tell our friends and family back East that the only things sticking out of the ground were rocks and plastic trees.
Our neighborhood could pretty much be described the same way, with one exception. We had lots of green-colored cockleburs in our backyard, rendering it virtually useless for any sort of activity.
All the houses in the neighborhood were shaped about the same. They were single-story ranch-style homes. Ours had two bedrooms and one bath. We lived in the house for eighteen months.
I am a giant fan of anything pertaining to the American Cowboy. We were living in El Paso, Texas. The heart of the West. Even though it was 1977, I hoping to see men walking around in Cowboy gear, boots, hat, leather belt, and perhaps a gun belt strapped to the waist. I was in the military living and working on the base. Seeing those things in reality were unlikely. But one can hope. We did, though, have an experience with Smith & Wesson while living on base.
Smith & Wesson! Are you conjuring up images of the gun manufacture? If so, you would be wrong.
The Smiths lived behind us, and the Wessons lived beside us. They were just plain weird. Both men had infantry specialties and worked with different types of weapons. SSG Horace “Henry” Smith was a drill sergeant. SSG Daniel Wesson was a tank mechanic instructor.
The Wessons had five-year-old twin boys. The Smiths were childless but were expecting their first. Both women were stay-at-home wives and were probably twenty-seven years old. My wife told me she guessed that to be their ages. Guys can’t do that without severe consequences. So, I believed her.
My wife commented one night that she thought Mrs. Wesson lifted weights. Although she looked slight in stature, her arms appeared rather muscular. I told CJ it must be from hauling around her heavyweight twins. She always seemed to have one in each arm. And those boys were five.
The relationship between these two families was very volatile. Living between Smith and Wesson made our lives quite interesting. We did not need television. What we saw every night was better than any television theater.
Everyone in the neighborhood was a noncommissioned officer. Smith and Wesson worked at different locations on the base. As far as I knew, the only time they saw each other was after-duty hours.
For some reason, they did not like each other. Every night they displayed dislike of each other to the entire neighborhood. I often wondered why there seemed to be so much animosity.
Supper was usually peaceful. I guess time for them was needed to unwind from work and to prepare for the altercations that were about to begin.
Like clockwork, every day at 7:00 p.m. the entertainment would commence. Sgt. Smith would come out on his patio and begin glaring at SSgt. Wesson’s house. About fifteen minutes later, SSgt. Wesson would dart out of his front door to the edge of his yard and start bad mouthing Sgt. Smith. Every night, Smith would deny any wrongdoings.
One night I could have sworn I heard Sgt. Wesson complain to Sgt. Smith that Smith’s wife had no business commenting about the size of his wife’s arms.
Sometimes people just say stupid nonsensical things about each other.
Smith’s response to Wesson went something like this. “Oh yeah! My wife can beat up your wife even though she has skinny arms.” I couldn’t believe I heard that. These guys were grown men, not kids.
I can’t swear that’s exactly what CJ and I heard, but it sure sounded something like that. It was that kind of stupid kid stuff every time they fought.
The banter would continue back and forth for approximately two hours. CJ and I lived between them so long that we would take turns reciting their lines before either of them would say them. Some nights, maybe if the atmosphere was just right, their voices would resonate throughout the entire neighborhood.
Occasionally, someone tired of their nightly routine and called the MPs. The MPs would arrive a few minutes later, break up the show for the night, and then leave. No citations were ever issued, as far as I know. It was almost as if the MPs actually enjoyed the visit to our neighborhood. Perhaps they looked upon this visit as a break from a mundane routine.
One day when I came home from work, my wife told me she got to watch a special episode of the Smith and Wesson show. This one featured only the wives and started shortly after I left for work.
CJ said the wives were yelling and screaming at each other out their back doors. It had something to do with a borrowed stereo. Apparently, the Smiths loaned their stereo to the Wessons. Now the Smiths needed the stereo back, and the Wessons were not willing to return it at that time.
CJ said the screaming continued until Mrs. Wesson finally threw the stereo out her back door and told Mrs. Smith to come and get it. Mrs. Smith called the MPs. They came with red lights flashing. Mrs. Smith told the MPs she was being threatened by Mrs. Wesson and was afraid for her life.
The MPs loaded both of them into separate cars and took them away. CJ says every time she sees the TV show America’s Most Wanted and watches the bad guys get loaded into the squad cars, she is reminded of those two housewives from Ft. Bliss.
Mrs. Smith was brought back to her house a couple hours later. Mrs. Wesson had to be released to her husband’s custody later that night.
That was a quiet night in the neighborhood. Apparently, SSgt. Wesson was filling out paperwork so he could bring his wife back home.
The Smith and Wesson show was off the air for only about a week before it returned to its regularly scheduled time.
One night, the show stopped. And for two or three weeks, no one saw Smith or Wesson. No one had a clue. Our favorite TV show had been yanked from the airwaves.
What were we supposed to do now?
How were we going to fill that void we learned to depend upon so much?
Then, one night, a new Smith and Wesson Show began playing. It had the same characters, but the script was entirely different. In this show, the main characters enjoyed one another’s company.
They were laughing together, and it appeared they were anxious to see each other.
Something had happened to change the script.
Mrs. Smith, SSgt. Wesson’s sister, just had a baby boy. Actually, Sgt. and Mrs. Smith had been trying for years to have a child. The arrival of the child softened the hearts of the two warring parties. Smith and Wesson were now inseparable.
The military police never visited the neighborhood again, and I never did find out what all their fuss was about.
Smith & Wesson(Ed DeRousse)
It’s 1977. At twenty-seven years of age, it was also the first time I came face to face with a real Smith & Wesson experience. I was in the US Army and stationed at Ft. Bliss in El Paso, Texas.
CJ, my wife, and I lived on base. Neither my wife nor I liked living in El Paso. It was hot all the time. There was always lots of traffic. For a big city, it didn’t seem to offer much in the way of entertainment.
El Paso’s climate is hot and dry. We frequently commented on the lack of vegetation. In fact, we would tell our friends and family back East that the only things sticking out of the ground were rocks and plastic trees.
Our neighborhood could pretty much be described the same way, with one exception. We had lots of green-colored cockleburs in our backyard, rendering it virtually useless for any sort of activity.
All the houses in the neighborhood were shaped about the same. They were single-story ranch-style homes. Ours had two bedrooms and one bath. We lived in the house for eighteen months.
I am a giant fan of anything pertaining to the American Cowboy. We were living in El Paso, Texas. The heart of the West. Even though it was 1977, I hoping to see men walking around in Cowboy gear, boots, hat, leather belt, and perhaps a gun belt strapped to the waist. I was in the military living and working on the base. Seeing those things in reality were unlikely. But one can hope. We did, though, have an experience with Smith & Wesson while living on base.
Smith & Wesson! Are you conjuring up images of the gun manufacture? If so, you would be wrong.
The Smiths lived behind us, and the Wessons lived beside us. They were just plain weird. Both men had infantry specialties and worked with different types of weapons. SSG Horace “Henry” Smith was a drill sergeant. SSG Daniel Wesson was a tank mechanic instructor.
The Wessons had five-year-old twin boys. The Smiths were childless but were expecting their first. Both women were stay-at-home wives and were probably twenty-seven years old. My wife told me she guessed that to be their ages. Guys can’t do that without severe consequences. So, I believed her.
My wife commented one night that she thought Mrs. Wesson lifted weights. Although she looked slight in stature, her arms appeared rather muscular. I told CJ it must be from hauling around her heavyweight twins. She always seemed to have one in each arm. And those boys were five.
The relationship between these two families was very volatile. Living between Smith and Wesson made our lives quite interesting. We did not need television. What we saw every night was better than any television theater.
Everyone in the neighborhood was a noncommissioned officer. Smith and Wesson worked at different locations on the base. As far as I knew, the only time they saw each other was after-duty hours.
For some reason, they did not like each other. Every night they displayed dislike of each other to the entire neighborhood. I often wondered why there seemed to be so much animosity.
Supper was usually peaceful. I guess time for them was needed to unwind from work and to prepare for the altercations that were about to begin.
Like clockwork, every day at 7:00 p.m. the entertainment would commence. Sgt. Smith would come out on his patio and begin glaring at SSgt. Wesson’s house. About fifteen minutes later, SSgt. Wesson would dart out of his front door to the edge of his yard and start bad mouthing Sgt. Smith. Every night, Smith would deny any wrongdoings.
One night I could have sworn I heard Sgt. Wesson complain to Sgt. Smith that Smith’s wife had no business commenting about the size of his wife’s arms.
Sometimes people just say stupid nonsensical things about each other.
Smith’s response to Wesson went something like this. “Oh yeah! My wife can beat up your wife even though she has skinny arms.” I couldn’t believe I heard that. These guys were grown men, not kids.
I can’t swear that’s exactly what CJ and I heard, but it sure sounded something like that. It was that kind of stupid kid stuff every time they fought.
The banter would continue back and forth for approximately two hours. CJ and I lived between them so long that we would take turns reciting their lines before either of them would say them. Some nights, maybe if the atmosphere was just right, their voices would resonate throughout the entire neighborhood.
Occasionally, someone tired of their nightly routine and called the MPs. The MPs would arrive a few minutes later, break up the show for the night, and then leave. No citations were ever issued, as far as I know. It was almost as if the MPs actually enjoyed the visit to our neighborhood. Perhaps they looked upon this visit as a break from a mundane routine.
One day when I came home from work, my wife told me she got to watch a special episode of the Smith and Wesson show. This one featured only the wives and started shortly after I left for work.
CJ said the wives were yelling and screaming at each other out their back doors. It had something to do with a borrowed stereo. Apparently, the Smiths loaned their stereo to the Wessons. Now the Smiths needed the stereo back, and the Wessons were not willing to return it at that time.
CJ said the screaming continued until Mrs. Wesson finally threw the stereo out her back door and told Mrs. Smith to come and get it. Mrs. Smith called the MPs. They came with red lights flashing. Mrs. Smith told the MPs she was being threatened by Mrs. Wesson and was afraid for her life.
The MPs loaded both of them into separate cars and took them away. CJ says every time she sees the TV show America’s Most Wanted and watches the bad guys get loaded into the squad cars, she is reminded of those two housewives from Ft. Bliss.
Mrs. Smith was brought back to her house a couple hours later. Mrs. Wesson had to be released to her husband’s custody later that night.
That was a quiet night in the neighborhood. Apparently, SSgt. Wesson was filling out paperwork so he could bring his wife back home.
The Smith and Wesson show was off the air for only about a week before it returned to its regularly scheduled time.
One night, the show stopped. And for two or three weeks, no one saw Smith or Wesson. No one had a clue. Our favorite TV show had been yanked from the airwaves.
What were we supposed to do now?
How were we going to fill that void we learned to depend upon so much?
Then, one night, a new Smith and Wesson Show began playing. It had the same characters, but the script was entirely different. In this show, the main characters enjoyed one another’s company.
They were laughing together, and it appeared they were anxious to see each other.
Something had happened to change the script.
Mrs. Smith, SSgt. Wesson’s sister, just had a baby boy. Actually, Sgt. and Mrs. Smith had been trying for years to have a child. The arrival of the child softened the hearts of the two warring parties. Smith and Wesson were now inseparable.
The military police never visited the neighborhood again, and I never did find out what all their fuss was about.
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