#106154 - I remembered Private Doyle, a lad in my platoon, shooting a running Afgan, at about three hundred yards right between the legs taking the meat and two veg right off clean as a whistle, then Doyle had stepped on a landmine, poor bastard, he begged me to shoot him, I could not, its against the regulations but I helped hold a captured AK47 against his head as he pulled the trigger, Thanks sir, do the same for you one day, he joked as his finger flinched and he sat off to meet his maker. Worse than piss. =========================================== Miss Reilly stared at the pile of chains on the floor before her as I collected my tools and outlined the plans I had made for her, No!she croaked.
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