That's it, it's official. Hell has frozen over and pigs are flying all around these parts. I don't know what genius came up with the idea, but in its simplicity, it's sheer brilliance: a joint sweep. Both houses together in what can only be called an epic night. The Pantons sweeping with one and only Juvats. The possibilities of this night are infinite. I compare the rivalry between the two squadrons to Ohio State and Michigan. Imagine now both schools coming together, putting their fueds aside for just one night, to throw the first ever, 69th annual joint sweep. The night starts off with story telling of respective squadron history. Then we move on to the Rules of Engagement (ROE's) for the evening. We scoff at the idea of any sort regulation to the evenings festivities and get on the bus. Unfortunately, one of the rules briefed was no pictures. Perhaps people have learned from previous sweeps that no good can come of any sort of evidence of the nights happenings. I managed to sneak a few throughout the night, but if anyone asks...these pictures do not exist. As many times as I have been to America Town (A-Town), I have no idea what the names of any of the watering holes are. The first bar we show up at is home of the panty dropper...a soju concocksion that tastes like a mix of lemonade and tang. Teams are made, shots are issued and the race has begun. It's a relay of epic proportions, as each participant stares straight ahead of at the 15 shots he has in front of him. Like a lion ready to pounce on his prey, he anxiously awaits the guy next to him to race through his stash so he can begin his contribution to the team. I was not a member of the winning team, but the night was off to a strong start. We end up bar hopping throughout A-town for the rest of the evening...with people venturing just ahead of the masses to not only warn the next bar of the disaster that's about to arrive, but also to clear out any other patrons of the establishment, since they are not fighter pilots and hence a lesser form of life. At one bar we conduct 'Punk Rush' which can only be described as an adult version of the childhood game red rover, but much more violent. Punks on one side of the bar, everyone else poised to defend the bar itself. Fights on, fights on is called and the entire place errupts into a royal rumble. The object of the punks of course is to make contact with the bar by any means neccessary. Yours truly gets on finger at the base of the bar, dragging two other individuals on my back and legs...once the contact is made I am quickly thrown halfway across the room by my weapons officer...one point for the bad guys. As the carnage clears the party continues to many other traditions that I, in good taste, will not speak of. The pictures below will show you a glimpse of that epic night...Korea continues to amaze and
not
dissappoint.
That's it, it's official. Hell has frozen over and pigs are flying all around these parts. I don't know what genius came up with the idea, but in its simplicity, it's sheer brilliance: a joint sweep. Both houses together in what can only be called an epic night. The Pantons sweeping with one and only Juvats. The possibilities of this night are infinite. I compare the rivalry between the two squadrons to Ohio State and Michigan. Imagine now both schools coming together, putting their fueds aside for just one night, to throw the first ever, 69th annual joint sweep. The night starts off with story telling of respective squadron history. Then we move on to the Rules of Engagement (ROE's) for the evening. We scoff at the idea of any sort regulation to the evenings festivities and get on the bus. Unfortunately, one of the rules briefed was no pictures. Perhaps people have learned from previous sweeps that no good can come of any sort of evidence of the nights happenings. I managed to sneak a few throughout the night, but if anyone asks...these pictures do not exist. As many times as I have been to America Town (A-Town), I have no idea what the names of any of the watering holes are. The first bar we show up at is home of the panty dropper...a soju concocksion that tastes like a mix of lemonade and tang. Teams are made, shots are issued and the race has begun. It's a relay of epic proportions, as each participant stares straight ahead of at the 15 shots he has in front of him. Like a lion ready to pounce on his prey, he anxiously awaits the guy next to him to race through his stash so he can begin his contribution to the team. I was not a member of the winning team, but the night was off to a strong start. We end up bar hopping throughout A-town for the rest of the evening...with people venturing just ahead of the masses to not only warn the next bar of the disaster that's about to arrive, but also to clear out any other patrons of the establishment, since they are not fighter pilots and hence a lesser form of life. At one bar we conduct 'Punk Rush' which can only be described as an adult version of the childhood game red rover, but much more violent. Punks on one side of the bar, everyone else poised to defend the bar itself. Fights on, fights on is called and the entire place errupts into a royal rumble. The object of the punks of course is to make contact with the bar by any means neccessary. Yours truly gets on finger at the base of the bar, dragging two other individuals on my back and legs...once the contact is made I am quickly thrown halfway across the room by my weapons officer...one point for the bad guys. As the carnage clears the party continues to many other traditions that I, in good taste, will not speak of. The pictures below will show you a glimpse of that epic night...Korea continues to amaze and
not 
dissappoint. 
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