The Machine Gun Valentine

 I don't have to tell you that I performed Singing Valentines again this year, but I do want to tell you the story about the most unique one I've ever done.  In all, my quartet sang between forty and fifty 2-song Singing Valentines.  We sang twice to men from their wives (embarrassing), once to a woman from her life partner, also female (weird), and to several mothers and children.  But the neatest and strangest one was a performance on the Army Post at Fort Gordon.

We got a request to sing at a remote firing range for a group of women that call themselves "The Machine Gun Fun Club" and they truly live up to their name.  The request came from the husbands, and the message on each card we presented to the women was the same: "You are the 'tracer fire' of my life!"

We had instructions and directions to the firing range some ten miles out in the wilderness of the fort.  We were met by an advance member of the party about a mile from the firing range.  He advised that we had to wait for about fifteen minutes for the range to "go cold" - ceasefire, for those of you not familiar with the terminology. Otherwise, we would have needed ear protection and other safety equipment to proceed.

Once the call came through that it was safe, we followed the escort truck over the sandy road.  Our minivan nearly got mired in the sand, but we made it the the site without the need for a tow.

What greeted us was a group of men and women around a small trailer with a huge machine gun mounted on it pointed down range. Several other similar guns were arrayed along the firing line.  Looking down the range provided quite a sight!  The closest target, a tank, was 800 meters away and there were other vehicles and targets up to 1600 meters  distant.  I couldn't even see them with the naked eye.  Of course, the cloud of tracer fire smoke didn't help, either.  I wondered who put out all those brush fires so they don't spread after the firing is all done.

It turned out that the trailer was set up as our 'stage', so we climbed onto it, not without some assistance, and stood around the machine gun to perform our Singing Valentines.  Needless to say, it's rather cumbersome and strange to arrange yourselves into the barbershop quartet arc around a four-foot-long lethal weapon like that.

The names of the gals were almost as much fun as the setting; names like Brandy and Bongh, Song Cha and Bring . . . I didn't make those up, either.  We distributed cards and roses by the military mail call method amidst much laughter, and then we sang, or rather shouted the two Valentine songs.  You see, there was a 20-mph, 40-degree wind blowing, filled with that smoke from the tracer round fires out on the range.

After the performance there were hugs amongst the group and pictures, including the one below.  Notice that the machine gun is pointing at yours truly, and at a very vulnerable part of my anatomy.  I was thankful that the gun wasn't loaded and being manned - or should I say "(wo)manned" at the time.

A good time was had by all, and no, we didn't stay to participate in, or watch the target practice, much as I would have liked to.  Instead, we drove back to civilization with smiles on our faces and laughter in our hearts.  It was the pièce de résistance for the whole Singing Valentines experience.  I can't wait till next year!