How to Change a Tire in the Army

Though I graduated from Radio School in  Ft. Gordon, GA,  I spent most of my time driving during my stint in the Army. I drove everything from jeeps, (which the Army called a quarter-ton truck,) to five-ton trucks. I was even "licensed" to work certain types of generators.

As a private and a driver, I was required to do some fairly heavy maintenance on my vehicles. I never pulled an engine or such, but I did have to change tires on occasion and I don't mean just taking off the lug-nuts and putting on a spare. I mean removing the tire from the rim and putting a new one on. This didn't happen very often, but, as I considered myself to be somewhat mechanically inclined, I didn't mind so much.

One fine day, I was just at the beginning of going through the process of replacing a tire. I, for whatever reason, had one lying on the floor and I was working my way toward separating the rim from the tire. Ere long, I noticed Captain What's-his-name standing over me, just watching the show. (I don't think any of us liked him and I've just completely forgotten his name.) I tried to ignore him and go about my business, but he soon began bragging to me how he had been a "motor pool officer" when he first got in the service and continued to go on and on about how he could do so much on a vehicle, etc. I politely acknowledged his banter.

Now, this is where it got really interesting. Before I knew it, he was down on the floor next to me struggling to finish remounting this tire. I was, frankly taken aback by his action.

Here's the deal. If I had thought he was trying to be helpful, I would've appreciated his hands-on leadership, but I'm convinced, even today, that he was less concerned about helping a private than showing what he was capable of doing.

And then, it got even weirder. Next thing I know, Lt. Dorch, (yes, I remember his name,) obviously, seeing his commander down on his hands and knees, couldn't feel comfortable just standing by and watching. Boom! He was soon right beside the CO, hands on the tire, wrestling to finish my nearly finished job.

As for me, there was little I could do and little room in which to do it. So, I did what any self-respecting, intelligent, wily private would do, I stood up, stepped back, crossed my arms and just enjoyed the show.

After a few minutes, no more than three or four I'm sure, it began to dawn on my Captain exactly what was going on in this little scenario. He looked up, saw me standing there smiling, stood up and said, "Finish up here, soldier."

"Yes, sir!" I said, smiling.

There really, as I recall, wasn't a whole lot left to do, but I finished it well, remounted the tire to my vehicle and chalked one up for the little people.