There's a pretty funny story from one of the Reserve annual training sessions involving a newbie platoon leader (a direct-commissioned, non-smoking female butterbar), her platoon sergeant (a smoker), and her two squad leaders (one a devotee of chew, and the other being me with my El Ropos) in the back of the same jeep, but I think I'm going to save it for my forthcoming account of my time in the Army, What Did You Do in the Cold War, Daddy?