By Sgt. Al Hine

YANK Staff Correspondent

persian gulf command

Insignia of the Persian Gulf Command.

PERSIAN GULF COMMAND —It happened in Iran. It actually happened. I seen it.

It was about 8 o’clock in the evening. The streets were crowded with the sauntering uniforms, Iranian, British, Russian and Americans, and the street urchins were shouting “Bucksee, Johnny” and “Dailinoose” and “Moscowski Telegramma.”

A sergeant, weary and with a three-day beard, shuffled out of a restaurant. He had on a soiled field jacket and knitted cap. The MP passing by wheeled around and gave him a sharp look.

“Excuse me, sergeant,” the MP said, “but we wish you wouldn’t wear a field jacket in town in the evening.”

The sergeant started to mumble a surly response.

“Now don’t apologize,” the MP said.

“Ah-ah,” thought the sergeant, “here it comes.”

“I know just how it is,” the MP continued.

“Hurried you were and tired, no doubt. Just try to look out for it in the future, won’t you? You see, officers notice it and they come to us. Be surprised how much of a bother some of those officers are. Just try to remember the blouse for town after this, will you, sergeant? Good night.”

And the MP walked off.

The sergeant stood for a minute shaking the cobwebs out of his head. When he got under way again, he was talking to himself in a low amazed voice. The only phrase you could hear was: “Just for that. I think I will wear a blouse next bender!”

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