One morning Sgt. Sheffield started passing out rakes.

"I got a work detail coming up and I need a few men to drive trucks," he said. Just about every hand went up.

"I can drive a truck, sergeant!"

"Pick me!"

Many of us anxiously hollered and had arms waving. I thought about it for about two seconds then remembered my brother's advice, "Never volunteer for anything." I put my hand down and got in line to grab a rake.

Then we loaded up on a deuce-and-a-half, hardly noticing the wheelbarrows in the corner of the big truck, and rode out to the detail. Once there Sgt. Sheffield called out, "All right! Where's those truck drivers?"

Lots of hands went up.

"Well, grab a wheelbarrow. That's your truck," he said.

Our work detail that day was raking and picking up pine cones. If you know anything at all about North Carolina, there's nothing but pine cones and pine needles in the whole damn state. I was happy with my rake. It wasn't nearly as humbling as driving a wheelbarrow around all day.