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Joined: 11/11/2006
Msg: 49
Going CommandoPage 5 of 5    (1, 2, 3, 4, 5)
sometimes yes, sometimes no....
there are some pants you just HAVE to wear panties with
Joined: 4/10/2005
Msg: 50
Going Commando
Posted: 9/14/2005 8:19:19 PM
Nope........not at work anyway.....tried once...spent most of the day...fidgeting..
so briefs it is...

Its ok at home anyhow.
Joined: 4/5/2005
Msg: 51
Going Commando
Posted: 9/16/2005 10:20:06 PM
i wear underwear as outerwear.
Joined: 4/15/2005
Msg: 52
view profile
Going Commando
Posted: 9/17/2005 11:37:53 PM
I have woken up many a night with this flashback,

...this is the last time I “went totally Commando”…

“…The rest of the platoon may or may not be dead; I think I can still hear some of them crying out, but it's hard to tell between the pounding of the incoming surf and the relentless patter of the machine gun. Then I realize that some of them must be alive or else the Niponese would not continue to fire their gun.
I know that I am closer to the gun than any of my buddies. I am the only one who has a chance.
It is at this point that I makes my Big Decision. It is surprisingly easy--but then, really stupid decisions are always the easiest.
I crawl along the log to the point that is closest to the machine gun. Then I draws a few deep breaths in a row, rises to a crouch, and vaults over the log! I have a clear view of the cave entrance now, the comet-shaped muzzle flash of the machine gun tesselated by the black grid of the net that they put up to reject incoming grenades. It is all remarkably clear. I look back over the beach and see nothing but motionless corpses.
Suddenly I realize they are still firing the gun, not because any of my buddies are alive, but to use up all of their excess ammunition so that they will not have to pack it out. I am a grunt, and I understand that thinking...
Then the muzzle swings abruptly towards me—I have been sighted. I am in the clear, totally exposed. I can dive into the jungle foliage, but they will sweep it with fire until I am dead. I plant my feet, aim my .45 into the cave, and begin pulling the trigger. The barrel of the machine gun is pointing at me now.
But it does not fire.
The .45 clicks. It's empty. Everything is silent except for the surf, and for the screaming. I holsters the .45 and pulls out my revolver.
The voice that is doing the screaming is unfamiliar. It's not one of my buddies.
A Nipponese Imperial Marine bolts from the mouth of the cave, up above the level of my head. The pupil of my right eye, the sights of my revolver, and this Nip are all arranged briefly along the same line for a moment, during which I pull the trigger a couple of times and almost certainly score a hit.
The Imperial Marine gets caught in the netting and plunges to the ground in front of me.
A second Nip dives out of the cave a moment later, grunting incoherently, apparently speechless with horror. He lands wrong and breaks one of his leg bones; I can hear it snap. He begins running towards the surf anyway, hobbling grotesquely on the bad leg. He completely ignores me. There is terrible bleeding from his neck and shoulder, and loose chunks of flesh flopping around as he runs.
I holsters my revolver. I ought to shoulder my rifle and plug the guy, but I am too confused to do anything for the moment.
Something red flickers in the mouth of the cave. I glance up that way and sees nothing clear enough to register against the deafening visual noise of the jungle.
Then I see the flash of red again, and it disappears again. It was shaped like a sharpened Y. It was shaped like the forked tongue of a reptile.
Then a moving slab of living jungle explodes from the mouth of the cave and crashes into the foliage below. The tops of the plants shake and topple as it moves.
It is out, free and clear, on the beach. It is low to the ground, moving on all fours. It pauses for a moment and flicks its tongue towards the Imperial Marine who is now hobbling into the Pacific Ocean some fifty feet distant.
Sand erupts into the air, like smoke from the burning tires of a drag racer, and the lizard is rocketing across the beach. It covers the distance to the Imperial Marine in one, two, three seconds, takes him in the backs of the knees, takes him down hard into the surf. Then the lizard is dragging the dead Nip back up onto the land. It stretches him out there among my dead commrads, walks around him a couple of times, flicking its tongue, and finally starts to eat him.…”

We were sharing out military flash backs in this thread aren't we? I glanced back and peoples comments confused me...

Any way thanks for listening...
Joined: 4/10/2005
Msg: 53
Going Commando
Posted: 9/18/2005 6:26:36 AM
^^^ I read with great interest your flash backs of armed conflict...O' nameless one..
but whether you wore undies while in combat still eludes me... as your entertaining story still
does not reveal this fact....

Ummm tell me it against regulations for Commando's to go Commando ?
Joined: 4/15/2005
Msg: 54
view profile
Going Commando
Posted: 9/18/2005 6:31:25 AM
Oh I get it... umm, isin't that kind of personal? Let me tell you when you are in a disease ravaged Indonesian Jungle your pretty happy to have an extra pair of shorts, However truth be told I do enjoy the freedom associated with au naturaal...

I have a name today its Merx, tomorrow who knows...
Joined: 4/10/2005
Msg: 55
Going Commando
Posted: 9/18/2005 7:26:44 AM

me thinks Nemo is also a good name...

*note to self - no name does not indicate no underwear, you silly goose*
Joined: 2/17/2007
Msg: 65
Going Commando
Posted: 4/7/2007 8:14:33 PM
lovin it in my sweets....
Joined: 11/3/2012
Msg: 72
Going Commando
Posted: 12/15/2012 10:57:31 AM
I know what you all are referring to with "Going Commando". But where and how did this vague reference start?
Joined: 11/3/2009
Msg: 73
Going Commando
Posted: 8/6/2014 8:48:05 PM
My preference is for properly-fitting undergarments all year 'round.
Wearing a suit without an undershirt and underwear? Seriously?
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