There were two fellows on the flight line working with us, from the hills of Tennessee and I mean Mountain Williams. They signed the pay roll with an X and smiled big toothless grins when they were handed all that sixty dollars.
Look out Memphis, here they come.
They returned from liberty one morning after pay day. We didn't recognize them at first glance. They stood for muster with their arms around each other in brotherly love. Their faces were swollen beyond identity.
"Man! Did we'all have a hoe down last night!", they told us after we realize who they were.
Seems they picked up a willing young lady and took her to a hotel room. Then an argument started over who was to be first. The argument turned into a fist fight. The lady ran out in terror leaving the two mountain williams to beat each other's (brains?) out.
They adopted me as one of their kinfolk, probably they liked those pretty pictures I drew on the pay roll. Week ends they would go home and bring back a bottle of White Lightening. If the bottle was dropped before it was empty, only an empty hole in the ground would show where the barracks once stood.
"Cmon home with us this weekend", they would invite me, "ya'll love ma sister."
"John, I'm married."
"Ats aw right, she wont care."
Their idea of a cookout was a free for all brawl. I'd probably come back with a dose, and some teeth missing .
"Gee I'm sorry fellers, but I can't make it this week", I'd tell them, "maybe another time."
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