Originally Posted by
Obie
I can tell you a thing or two about Armadillos, my friend. I once shared a foxhole with a dead one. It was during training with the 2nd Armored Division in Fort Hood, Texas, with 50 caliber bullets whizzing overhead and a foul smell making me dizzy. The bloody thing kept staring at me, as if I had contributed to its demise. Give me a break. "What am I doing in this smelly hole with a dead Armadillo?"
Oh, by the way, some of the best people I know are drunken sailors from Salamanca.