When I was in basic training in 1972, we sang when we marched. We sang about the terrible food, the training, about killing the enemy, but most of all we sang about Jody.
Jody was the mythical Son of a Bitch back home who was screwing our girlfriends, driving our cars, eat our food, emptying our meager bank accounts and, in the worst version, alienating the affection of our dogs!
The current Army no longer sings about Jody. I wrote about that after attending a full-time Army school four years ago. The songs would embarrass eunuchs now they are so thoroughly emasculated. The story on the New York Times "At War" blog is here.
Recently I was explaining Jody to a non-military friend. I said, "Jody was a Draft Dodger. When I was in basic during the Vietnam War, we knew Jody got a deferment."
And now, if those sergeants are still alive, they are in their 70s and voted for Trump. Who ever thought you could sell those Vietnam War veterans a Chicken Hawk.
I would not have believed it then. I still have a hard time believing it now.