My stepfather was a new college graduate with a degree in theology when he got shipped over to Vietnam. He came from a very proper and religious household. He thought that his theology degree, his work with the school newspaper, and being an ordained Southern Baptist Minister would get him a desk job or a position with the clergy when he joined the Army. Instead they made him a Ranger and he jumped out of helicopters. At 6 feet five inches tall and 240 pounds, he didn’t exactly blend in with the locals. For his first Christmas away from home and in another country, his mom sent him a big box from Oklahoma that he excitedly opened in front of his barracks mates. Wax paper-lined boxes of cookies and cakes were pulled out of the box and shared with his friends, and they all gave him shit about how sweet the scarf and mittens his mom had made. Then, the last package at the bottom of the box was opened. It was round and hard, and felt like kind of like an artillery shell. Imagine his surprise, and the delight of his mates, when he opens the package and in it was one of those flesh colored, old-skool type vibrators – the hard plastic kind – with batteries installed. His mom was a total southern belle – everything was always perfect (woman even labeled her shelves for her Campbell’s soup cans). The Christmas card said, “Merry Christmas, Gary. I thought you’d like one of these neck massagers. They work great. Love, Mom.” He had us all rolling with that and I wasn’t sure if I should have posted this in the main forum, but it was Army related so I hope y’all enjoyed this as much as I did hearing it.