THE YANKEES SHOT GRANDMA
It was a military funeral on a hot, muggy day in central Mississippi. Grandpa, a war veteran, had passed away. The funeral had gone well, the family had gathered around the grave. The minister had finished the graveside service. The honor guard from the local airbase folded the flag and the presiding officer presented it to the widow with his condolences and those of the President of the United States. With perfect military precision he rose, stood at attention, and gave the special signal for the rest of the military escort to fire the first of three rounds of the twenty- one gun salute. The first volley rang out across the quiet countryside. The family had been facing toward the casket, away from the honor guard. Everyone jumped, except Grandma. She fainted, falling out of her chair. Seeing this, her grandson cried out, “Now they’ve done it! We haven’t even buried Grandpa yet and those Yankees have shot Grandma in…
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