Blackwater Blog Weekend: Ain't Nothin' Wrong With the Ra-di-o

The weirdest thing about the trucks they gave us to get around in at Blackwater was that no matter how many windows were shot out, how much the front end was smashed up, or how full of broken glass, brass (Simunitions or otherwise) used flash-bang grenades and bullet holes the rig might be, you could count on one thing:

She ain't a Cadillac, and she ain't a Rolls
But there ain't nothin' wrong with the ra-di-o!*

Think I'm kidding? Check it out:
Yes, that's a flash-bang in the change-holder in the back of the Suburban. I was kneeling on the broken glass in the very back of the Road Warrior Model at the time. I only did that once. The glass was no big deal, but there's no interior release on those back doors, so unless your friends let you out (mine did) there's not much for it but an undignified (yet extremely tactical) scrambling dive over the back seat to get to the real doors.
Thanks again for letting me out of the truck, guys.

Oh, and yes, that's a bullet hole or two above the flash-bang. It had been used, and I actually thought I'd bring it home and give it to my kids, who collect old used brass every time we go to a range. But in the end I figured it would probably cause me more hassle in the airport than I would care to explain, so I didn't bother. Now that I know that the TSA in Norfolk wasn't actually looking at the display of their mega-expensive CT scanner, I realize I probably could have brought whatever I wanted. They certainly didn't notice the steel-and-aluminum full-sized .45 handgun and three magazines in my luggage. Ah, well.

This is our other chariot. I didn't get to ride in this one, but I understand that radio reception was excellent. The only issue was that it apparently tuned in a lot of music that Robb liked, which meant that it tuned in a lot of music that the rest of the cohort found . . . . less entertaining.

Than pure, rusty boredom.

So to speak.

*Used with permission of Aaron Tippin. Don't believe me? Call him.