dang ole' german yellow jackets

Hot damn, I was waiting for a Sarge story and low an behold, here pops one in, POP POP POP!!!:):) Take the fight to them Sarge, next time, set up a pair of coveralls and a shirt and stand it out in the field. Now when those little buggers come a knocking, you can sneak up behind them, whisper in their ear "What were you thinkin", then bash them in the head with a tiny tire iron! Double pickles, stand proud and walk by yourself to the sammich shop.;)

Is there a place on DRN that Sarge's stories can be saved for posterity? Another classic...

Larry

Good one sarge! I'll tell my story in my best sfc style:

I must say, for some reason the ol' Yellowjackets are way more agressive this year. I was diggin in the ol' dirtpile (you know, the one you always have to move, then move again, and so on) with the #2 the other morning, and bap! something hits me in the back of the head. I look around to see if Predator2 is getting ornery with a peashooter, but nobody's there. So I get back after it with the ol' #2 and bap! bap! I get it again. I start looking around and just on the other side of the pile, there's a little swarm of the bastages with a nest hole in the pile. Well, I know Momma has some of the spray where you can hit 'em from 50 feet away, so I go looking for it. "Sorry," says she, "I bought the wrong kind. This is the close range stuff." Okay, so I go out there full commando (sarge, you'd be proud) and give 'em the juice. Well, it weren't a full can, so the ones I didn't kill just got torqued at me, so I high-tail it back to the garage to regroup. Then, I got to thinkin' "I got some old premix for the Poulan that if I tried to run in the saw and Rich R found out, he'd go into conniptions." So I went back out after the swarm had subsided a bit and poured a gallon down the hole. The accursed horde didn't like that one bit, but the fun had just begun. I then threw a match! YEEHAW! We got fire! Fire Good! Bugs Bad! Of course, a gallon of gasoline down a hole burns a while, and I looked a little strange dancing around the dirtpile like Lord of the Flies (especially since I live in town), but those Yellowjackets will think again before trying to build a nest at Pred Part-of-an-Acre!

One word: "Deisel Fuel in a pump fertilizer sprayer". Environment be damned!

Here is a perfect example of exclusive content: Sarge's Storytime :yeehaw:

Todd, you hit the nail on the head. "It's storytime with Uncle Sarge" :)

Got-Toe-My-Dee! Sarge, that there is some good stuff right there, tell you wut, know wutta mean. We should be payin' you for that verbage. :)

Holy crap, sarge! I think I'll go pop a cold one and read that again! :thumb: Better yet, I'll grab a twelver and head your way! :)

There was Sarge....knee deep in hand greandes, the whole Chinese horde comin' over the ridge thinkin' to himself...."Damn, one of 'em might get away...."
-Have one on me Sarge, BTW I'm gonna need a first shirt, you interested?

"Escalation and Domination"

Thought I’d share the story of my recent yellow jacket encounter.

I had some antennas to install at our mountaintop receive site, so me and my buddy climbed aboard the chopper and strapped in. The landing pad on top of the ridge is too small for a Blackhawk (affectionately referred to as a Crashhawk) to land, so we were taking up an AStar. It was a bit gusty that day, and the little bird we were in isn’t known for awesome amounts of power, but we were doing OK. The approach to the pad was fairly smooth as the mountain was deflecting the wind above us, but when we crested the ridge we started bouncing around a bit. The pilot did a decent job of it, and we touched down in one piece. We unloaded ourselves and our gear, and prepared for the trek along the ridge.

The landing pad is about 150 yards from the radio shack, and the only way there is to hike along the ridge, carrying whatever equipment you’re going to need. I’ve learned to bring only the bare essentials for tools and such, and each time up there have left behind a few things just so I won’t have to carry them out. Now in some places this ridge is no wider than a two by four (you’d think it’d be 4 inches wide, wouldn’t you? Nope, three and three quarters of an inch – go figure) and drops off on either side a couple hundred feet to very jaggedy looking rocks below. That’s why you can’t just climb up there – very treacherous terrain. I suppose you could if you were part mountain goat, but me and my worn out knees would never make it.

Well we got there finally after having to stop and take a breather several times. There’s quite a bit of difference in oxygen content of the air when you go up two thousand feet. I got my partner started on drilling some holes to anchor guy wires and I headed over to the tower. It’s a forty footer. Not that imposing, but it’s been there since the dark ages, and is covered with old antennas and coax and heliax and all kinds of crap that makes it a challenge to climb. This is the same tower where, only months ago, I had a CCTV camera fall about twenty feet onto the top of my head. Ended up with five staples in my scalp and a nice concussion. I’m still suffering the affects of that one. The tower itself is guyed to stakes imbedded in the rock below, but time and weather have stretched them a bit. This gives the tower a little room to sway, and the 30 mile an hour gusts were making it an interesting climb for me today. I got my safety belt on, and the antennas staged on the ground, ready to be pulled up once I ascended.

It took me several minutes to get to the top, dodging all the obstacles on the way up, but I made it. The first antenna was easy. Just a small 16Db yagi for a 900 MHz RS-232 link. The second was a bit more of a challenge. It’s a two foot parabolic dish to be used for a 1.8 GHz video downlink. It probably weighed thirty pounds with it's feedhorn and all of it’s mounting hardware, and I had to pull it up to the top of the tower. I took my time and eased it up there without any problem. Now comes the hard part. It had to be mounted at the very top of the tower, and there wasn’t anyone up there to help me wrestle it into place. I was up as high as I could go and had to really stretch to lift that baby into place. That’s when it happened.

Imagine – you are on top of a forty foot tower located at the peak of a two thousand foot high hunk of granite. A thick leather safety harness strapped around your waist and secured at the highest point possible is the only thing keeping you from plunging to certain death on the rocks below. You are stretching and straining to lift a heavy object well above your head, and you feel a creepy crawly on the side of your neck.

I didn’t like it much, but I had more pressing matters to attend to so I tried to ignore it. With great effort I finally got the antenna’s U bolts around the top spire of the tower and was able to turn my attention to the unwanted guest I had crawling around on my person. By this time he had walked around a bit to the front, and was nearly to my throat. Enough of this crap thought I, and tried to brush it away with my now free hand. I got him off my neck allright, and right down the front of my shirt! I was trying to pull my shirt out of my waistband so the little sucker could fall out, and had nearly gotten it when BAM! He hit me. It hurt like heck, and made me a bit angry, so I smucked him. Squished him right against my big gut. Hah! Sting me, will ya? I showed him. Problem was he must have sent out a mayday call right before I sent him to meet his maker. Perhaps beat out a little morse code message with his wings (… --- …). BAM! Another one hits me in the back of the neck. BAM! Another one on the arm. BAM! BAM! BAM! They’re all over me now. The hits from these little buggers kind of reminded me of getting peppered with shrapnel from a FMJ .223 round fired from a Steyr Aug at a steel target ten yards downrange. Ouch.

I don’t know what the record for the fastest descent from a forty foot tower is, but if I didn’t break it that day I had to have come mighty close. Straight into the shack I ran, where I happened to have a can of wasp and hornet spray, and quickly dispatched any remaining enemy that had followed me into the bunker. I was really mad now. Spray can in hand, I ventured forth to seek and destroy. They must have seen me coming and had taken evasive maneuvers. Not a yellow and black striped demon from hell in sight. I did a recon of the immediate area and came up empty. My thoughts of ultimate revenge slowly turned to thoughts of getting the job done before the chopper came back to get us.

I never did find their lair, and never did kill but a few of them. But I’ll be back, and I’ll be watching out for them. I have a big time grudge against those little beasts with wings, and in the end I will be victorious.



Larry

Good story there. Wonder if Home Depot carries napalm.

Sorry I had to put carnage with the face. :p

This is a classic :thumb: LMAO.........Take no prisoners sarge :aj:

Here's a little-known super-secret surveillance spy photo of the event in question:

Hey Serge,

Moose95 is in serious need of a first shirt. He got promoted to Captain last week. I would be honored to have you as my Platoon SFC, but I know my brother need's you more...If you ever want to return to active duty, there are two officers that are prior service that would really like to have your experience and help. :thumb: :worship:


Phillip

Originally posted by fremontguy
Good story there. Wonder if Home Depot carries napalm.

Click to expand...

Home Depot!? Buddddddy it's easier than that... heard of styrofoam? time for some bug killin' havoc friends... :flame:

An aerosol can and a lighter makes a pretty good flame thrower. I bet that would take care of those flying vermin.

Larry

Sarge, you crazy bugger! those stories are great, keep em coming!