BH: Now did they have the monument closed down during World War II, as a monument?
Bob: . . . Did you ever see a water bag?
H: I'm not sure I've seen the kind you're talking about.
Bob: Well, there were the two kinds. Many Aqua, or something, and Desert. And you know what they are? They're water bags with cork and then a rope handle, and you fill it with water, and then you'd get it wet—and the evaporation of the canvas exterior kept that water just as cold . . . You see the evaporation of the exterior—and then the water would gradually, some of it would seep back in—you know, the rate of evaporation continued the cooling effect on the water bag. And I can tell you some stories—one story. We were out in the south meadow—grubbing loco. Fred Martinez and I. I was on Rags—kind of a high strung—we crossed our quarter—horse mares with Army remount thoroughbred stallions. We kept stallions for the government, and in turn, we got the use of their reproductive services, so we cross thoroughbreds with quarter horses. And some of them came out a little higher strung—with a thoroughbred dad, than others. Well, Rags was kind of high strung. And ah—ah—I'd thrown my water bag on, and carried my grubbing hoe—and we were out in the south meadow, and when I went to get off, um, I threw my hoe down, and got off, but the water bag was still over the saddle horn, and that horse, um, shied away from the saddle bag after I got off. I had a hold of the reins, but the ah, saddle bag started to bounce—I mean the water bag started to bounce. And that horse proceeded to just go ape—absolutely the rankest—just absolute bucked and got away from me, and ran off. And we, and we decided we better go find out, you know, where that horse went, and so, um, Fred and I got on Doc and went back to see where Rags was, and he'd gotten caught on a fence between the south meadow and the middle meadow, and he was just laying there, like he was dead—he didn't move—after all of that exertion, all that energy, and ah, he was just laying there. And so we carefully cut the wires, and he just laid there. And once we got the wires all cut, the saddle come off—the cinch had been cut, or whatever, I don't remember—but the saddle came off, and we were able to get the horse out without too much—without too much cuts. The saddle was wrecked, but ah, that scared the hell out of me. That just scared the hell out of me. You know, I was just a little kid. Anyway, that was the story of the water bag that I'll never forget.