The Inspection

I was raised in the Texas Panhandle and spent a lot of time out in the open where a fella is pretty much on his own so there are certain things you always have with you that you no longer think about. I my case one of those things was a Bowie knife since it fulfills so many duties when one is out in the wild. Without any thought at all I stored my knife along with all my other belongings in my locker at the barracks. Much to my dismay we had a barracks search and inspection that nearly ended up with me in the brig over the fact that when they got to me they pull out a 16" knife that weighed nearly 31/2 pounds. I did not understand all the fuss over a thing like a Bowie knife and asked didn't everyone carry one?
It finally came around by one of the chiefs who asked me what state I was from? Texas of course. All of the chiefs looked at the knife and then at me and felt thoroughly justified in believing what I soon found out was the general conception at the time by most people in the US that we Texans still rode horses, lived on the ranch and had dirt roads for the main street in our towns and sat around Shoot'n Squirrels.
Now I understand why I sat under that tree in Florida back in boot.