Elroy was a bully.  He was big, probably 6'4-5'', 225 or more, and malicious.  He got crosswise with me at almost our first meeting;  he was throwing his weight around in the drivers' waiting area of the motor pool.  He, a SP4, called me "Stoney", a nickname reserved for my friends...very few friends.  I gave him a minor dressing-down, in front of his cronies, reminding him that even in the relaxed atmosphere of EUCOM, SP4s do not address Staff Sergeants by nicknames.  So whenever he addressed me after that, he did it with an exaggerated emphasis on Sergeant. 

Over the following months I had a few opportunities to observe Elroy in different situations and concluded he was not only a bully but one of those arrogant, puffed-up individuals who sneer and roll their eyes and present a borderline insubordinate attitude with anyone in authority.  He would shoulder into people in the halls with a giggled "oh, excuse me"...he was just a shit.  We worked out of the same general area in the motor pool but had no real professional relationship. 

Elroy was especially obnoxious with female soldiers;  I didn't know him well enough to determine if that approach worked for him, but the comments I overheard from several females seemed to indicate not. 

Patch Barracks, home of EUCOM HQ, is the smallest Kaserne I was ever assigned to.  There were not very many people stationed there so it was inevitable that you would run into folks often.  Most of my contacts with Elroy centered around the motor pool, the EUCOM Support Activity barracks, and the gym.  I  often played racquetball in the early mornings.   Some of the other drivers did their PT at the gym in the early morning.  Elroy had made comments about racquetball being a sissy game a few times.  "...But SERGEANT Stone loves it!"

One morning as I was leaving the racquetball courts, a sergeant I knew from the motor pool invited me to join in on a basketball game.  I was sweated up and pretty worn and on the verge of saying no when I noticed Elroy was on the court.  I saw an opportunity to get a little physical with the boy.  We got into a spirited game.  We hadn't been playing very long but it was clear that Elroy was looking for a shot at me as well.  His chance came during a rebound when I grabbed the  ball and did a quick side-step into a charging Elroy.  He intended to bowl me over but the side-step threw him and he stumbled by,  looking awkward and oafish.  I tore off to our end of the court with Elroy hot on my tail.  Another player on Elroy's side blocked my approach for a lay-up so I stopped and ducked as if to do a short jumper.  Elroy jumped for the block.  I delayed a second too long, underestimating Elroy's ability to recover, went up to make my shot,  and got surprised by a frantic Elroy clambering up and jamming me.  The ball got out but didn't get close to the basket.  In the process, Elroys blocking hand smashed down on my right hand causing a sharp, excruciating pain in my right pinky finger.  I looked at my finger and it was about 3/4-inches shorter than I remembered...but it was about twice as wide.  It took a second for my pain-damaged thought processes to realize that the the tip of my pinky was dislocated and jammed down next to the second finger bone...inside the skin.  A couple of the other players were making noises and telling me to get over to the medics but my brain just couldn't stand the way that my little finger looked.  I grabbed the finger and pulled the tip back out where it belonged.  A decision that I immediately regretted but it was done;  the pinky, though a little swollen and sore, was back in its proper alignment...even if the pain of moving it almost made me pass out.  I decided to see the docs to make sure I hadn't screwed it up worse than it was.  My last vision as I left the gym was Elroy laughing.

Told you all that so I could tell you this:

Husky Field is an irregularly shaped sports field in the middle of Patch Barracks.  It was where we played softball and football and soccer and ran around its perimeter for PT tests.  Patch is on a bit of a hill so Husky Field is below street level on one end and above street level on the other end. 

It was dark and cold and snowing.  I was on my way to the motor pool for an early mission;  it was about 0400.  It was Monday.  I was on Husky Field, taking a short cut from the company.  I saw the body from about 25 yards away.  Curled in a ball, still as a tomb, covered in a layer of snow about an inch thick.  But even in a ball covered with snow, I knew it was Elroy.   I wondered if someone had finally had enough and done him in...then realized I would probably be pretty high on the list of suspects...a lot of different things floated through my mind in the last ten yards approaching him...I can't really say that remorse or sorrow was in there anywhere...It appeared that he had fallen and tried to climb up the bank to the road;  even covered in snow you could tell the ground had been disturbed.  Maybe he had gotten drunk and fell there and passed out...that was the most likely scenario, in my mind.  I was going to go get the MPs;  didn't want to disturb the "scene of the crime" but thought I had better make sure it was really him and that he was really dead first.  I used my gloves to brush the snow off his face;  yep...it was Elroy.  I reached down and stuck my fingers against his carotid artery looking for a pulse...and he sat straight up and glared at me.  His breath confirmed my theory about passing out.  He stuggled to his feet, cussing and fuming about something (maybe he was mad I woke him up), and then headed up the bank.  He slipped back down to where he had been.  I thought he might remain there but he struggled back up again.  I tried to talk him into coming with me to the motor pool so we could take him to the ER over at Bad Cannstadt, he just kept ranting incoherently and pushing me away.  On the third attempt he made it to the street, turned away from me and staggered off towards the barracks.

I stood there watching him go and had such mixed emotions...I was relieved that my day would go as originally planned;  I was looking forward to my mission.  I was glad I didn't have to spend hours in the MP station being questioned and filling out reports and statements.  Part of me was glad Elroy wasn't dead...but part of me was a little disappointed.....