rotorwash
26-06-07, 04:06
In the late summer of 1967, I came down with a strange malady – warts. I ended up with about four of them on my inner thighs. I immediately attacked and squeezed the life out of those little buggers, literally tearing them out by the roots. They bled like crazy, but – hey, I was in a war, what’s a little blood? Then I got another one. On little Willie, about half way down, right side, about 10 o’clock.
This one had me worried. I couldn’t squeeze this one out like I had the others without maybe causing some permanent damage, so I headed for the medic shop. We had our own flight surgeon and a staff of three or four medics, so with high hopes I presented arms. They started laughing. Not just a regular laugh, but one of those, “Hey you guys! Come over here, you gotta see this!” type of laughs that did absolutely nothing for my confidence.
Finally, one of these highly educated individuals separated himself from the herd and assured me they had a cure. There was this mild acid -
Not a chance. Not on Willie. No way. Not happening. But, they continued to assure me as they all stood around with very expectant looks on their faces above the anticipatory grins. Finally, I relented and one of these guys brought out a little bottle with an eye dropper top, carefully opened it up and drew some fluid into the dropper. Then he carefully aimed the dropper for the target area – and started laughing. As he laughed his hand moved. While he was squeezing the dropper. One drop fell, two drops, then 3, then 4. Then more. All in the wrong places. And every where a drop fell, immediately a blister formed. I had at least two blisters on my stomach, not to mention the suffering Willie was experiencing. And the wart was untouched. Finally, he took a deep breath, focused and made a direct hit.
In great pain and fighting mad, I was seriously considering that a machine gun might answer at the moment, but using their best bedside manner, they solved my hurt feelings and gave me salve for my burns. I was on the verge of forgiving – I would never forget – when one of the medics let slip that they had stopped using that acid for warts about two months back.
This one had me worried. I couldn’t squeeze this one out like I had the others without maybe causing some permanent damage, so I headed for the medic shop. We had our own flight surgeon and a staff of three or four medics, so with high hopes I presented arms. They started laughing. Not just a regular laugh, but one of those, “Hey you guys! Come over here, you gotta see this!” type of laughs that did absolutely nothing for my confidence.
Finally, one of these highly educated individuals separated himself from the herd and assured me they had a cure. There was this mild acid -
Not a chance. Not on Willie. No way. Not happening. But, they continued to assure me as they all stood around with very expectant looks on their faces above the anticipatory grins. Finally, I relented and one of these guys brought out a little bottle with an eye dropper top, carefully opened it up and drew some fluid into the dropper. Then he carefully aimed the dropper for the target area – and started laughing. As he laughed his hand moved. While he was squeezing the dropper. One drop fell, two drops, then 3, then 4. Then more. All in the wrong places. And every where a drop fell, immediately a blister formed. I had at least two blisters on my stomach, not to mention the suffering Willie was experiencing. And the wart was untouched. Finally, he took a deep breath, focused and made a direct hit.
In great pain and fighting mad, I was seriously considering that a machine gun might answer at the moment, but using their best bedside manner, they solved my hurt feelings and gave me salve for my burns. I was on the verge of forgiving – I would never forget – when one of the medics let slip that they had stopped using that acid for warts about two months back.