Just thought I'd share this with you.
Back when I was in the Gulf War, I saw some action.
We were on a chopper that encountered heavy fire, killing the crew and troops everyone but me. I made it out as the chopper went down, grabbing an M-60 light machine gun, a field radio, and (what a suprise!) a case of beer.
I radioed for extraction, and got to work on the beer while I waited.
Wouldn't you know it, the dang Iraqi showed up a hundred strong!
So I grabbed up the M-60 and engaged the enemy, killing 70 of them before the belt ran out. All I had left was my knife, so I went hand-to-hand on the rest. Twenty fell to my knife and the last ten to my bare hands.
Moral of the story?
Don't f**k with me when I've been drinking!!!
Mike!