Every portable radio in the Army has a nomenclature that starts out PRC and then a number. PRC-77, PRC-119 etc.

PRC is pronounced "prick". So if someone tells you to get the 'prick seventy-seven' they are talking about a very specific type of radio.

For those who are lifelong civillians, military pay grades are either 'E' for enlisted, or 'O' for officer. An E-1 is the lowest ranking private, an E-5 is a Sergeant (Army), an O-3 is a Captain (every branch but Navy), where an O-6 is a Colonel (again, every branch but Navy, where an O-6 is a Captain. Squids are strange.)

Now that we have all that back ground info...the story.

We were on a field problem in the middle of winter. Snow was knee deep, and every single vehicle was having radio problems.

So the platoon Sergeant spends a day driving to every site and telling us "We're going to stop training at 2000 hours, pack up, meet at this grid coordinate, and we're going to get all our commo fixed. We'll come back out in the morning and resume training."

So, the appointed hour comes, and myself and my gunner pack up and head to our rally point. It wasn't anywhere close. It was quite late when we all got there, got assembled, and started working on all our commo gear. As the night progressed, we discovered there were a number of issues that were above our eschelon for repair. Ergo, we needed real-for-real commo soldiers to help us out. Now, it just so happens that our commo chief was a guy by the name of Sergeant First Class Yardly (name changed). SFC is the paygrade of E-7.

So I tell my gunner (it must be one or two a.m. at this point) "Go over to the commo tent and tell SFC Yardly that we need someone to bring down a prick E-7 to the platoon area so we can fix our radios."

This particular gunner of mine was kind of a whiney little snot so he huffed and stomped through the snow over to the tent where the commo section was all sleeping.

Though not there to hear what my gunner said, it was reported to me later that he threw open the tent flap and announced very loudly: "We need that prick E-7 to fix our radios RIGHT NOW!" SFC Yardly-- the E-7-- didn't take kindly to being awakened in the middle of the night by a loudmouth private calling him a prick. Next I saw of my gunner he was on his belly in a foot and a half of snow with SFC Yardly standing above him directing him to "Roll left!" "Roll Right!". Meanwhile, it was all we could do to keep from rolling with laughter ourselves.

Boy, my gunner was pissed when he got done getting his corrective physical training for disrespecting a senior NCO. :D