Military memories

It was a hot and humid day. The broiling sun beat down on us as we stood on the sweltering tarmac waiting for our final inspection before graduation. Our uniforms were drenched in sweat and the polish on our shoes lay melted on the asphalt in perfect U shapes matching the size of our shoes. The rifles we carried got progressively heavier as the afternoon wore on. 15 minutes became 30 minutes became 45 minutes became an hour. Slowly the time ticked by as more and more healthy young men fainted and mashed their faces into the hard ground. About the time everyone thought they could stand no longer the band began to play. Ode to Joy filled the air and like magic those of us still standing regained our strength and resolve. We had no idea what was holding up the royal representative who was to do our inspection. But finally the doddering old man showed up drunk as a skunk. He staggered down the front rank of the honor guard then expected a march past and salute. He was very lucky the rifles we carried had no live rounds. From that day on I developed a disdain for anything of the crown and fell in love with the music of a deaf man long dead. I write this as I listen to Beethoven's 9th.