Evening pore hunter and friends: for some reason I was reminded of the col this evening. I can still see him, a tall, gangly, skinny stick of bones with his Dusty, faded, col uniform hanging on him with his ever present .45. He had the usual tarnished, revolution medals hanging from his skinny chest.
We had been casual friends for some time, when as I was going through the plaza, I saw him sitting on a bench a bit slumped over and looking very discouraged. He was the nominal head of one of the local land movements called " El Division del Norte" in reference to Pancho villa. Apparently he had been to the Palacio looking for some aid for his group.
The young clerks at the Palacio were accustomed to make snide remarks about that old relic from the revolution days, and apparently he had been rebuffed.
So without thinking, I stood very erect, and marched over to where he was sitting, came to attention Snapped off my best USAF salute and said "Teniente Curry presente, mi colornel". He blinked and smiled a bit, then stood up and returned my salute, and said "bien venido mi tieniente, descansa se". (Welome my lt, at ease) He waved to the bench that he had been seated on, so I sat with him.
The other passerbyers on the plaza were a bit intrigued and commenced to show him more respect, even to the point of saying "Buenas dias col." They all knew that I had been a Airforce gentleman & pilot. For me to show him respect as being the superior Officer intrigued them. I even saw some of the clerks at the Palacio looking out of the second floor window a us.
Well we talked for some time about this and that, military experiences, campaigns, etc. He then said that in a certain battle he had been shot in the right knee with a 7 mm.. This startled me a bit, since I had 20 mm frags just above my right knee also. Naturally the next move was to roll up our pants legs and commence to compare scars, forgetting our fascinated audience. He very carefully checked out my scar tissue then was satisfied. His knee was still a mess, it looked like a rock pile with lumpy bone rebuilding.
We then continued talking for about an hour, then he said that he has to go back to the Palacio. He stood up straight, so naturally I did also and saluted him again which he returned with great dignity and
left. He now walked straight and with confidence, He won his help easily from the now subdued clerks.
We met off and on for a while, always with the formal salute exchange first, and last.
One night about 2:30 in the morning, I heard this banging on my front door and the sounds of many men?? I quickly put on a pair of pants, and bare footed went to the door. When I opened it the group of men breezed past me into the room, they were all military officers ?? They formed a group around me, my col was with them.
He stepped forward and said "Mi General, me permirtes a presentar a mi buen amigo, El Americano Major Curry de la Fuerza Area de los Estados Unidos". ( My General, may I present my very good friend, Major Curry of the USAF). He proceeded to present me to another General, a couple of col.'s and one poor lonely Major. We swapped stories and a few drinks then they started to leave. When I had a chance I whispered to my friend, "I wasn't a Major". He grinned, and said "you are a Major 'now' to the local military." So I became know as the local Yankee Major & pilot.
Incidentally that reputation helped me a few times later. ©@
Don jose de la Mancha