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When I was a Marine lieutenant stationed in Kaneohe Hawaii in the late 70s, I was the OOD late one afternoon when my battalion commander ran into my duty office and said "with 5 rounds load!" which meant that he wanted me to load my .45 and follow him.

When we got outside, he pointed at a car across the athletic field from us, that was stopped behind the PX.

He said "that car just ran through the middle of the football team practice and I think someone's robbing the PX".

The car he pointed out was about 200 yards from us, a pumpkin orange Chevy Nova. He turned to me and said, "if that car comes back this was, stop it" and then went to call the MPs. After he had left, the car started and turned towards me and accelerated. As it approached me, I raised my right hand with the pistol into the air. It kept coming. It had a completely blacked out windshield, so I couldn't see into the car and it didn't slow at all.

I lowered the pistol and pointed at where the driver would be and aimed but I resolved that I wouldn't fire it until the front bumper hit my legs.

The car came to a sudden stop just a couple of feet from me and I ordered the driver to get out of the car.

It turned out to be a drunk lady, a staff sergeant's wife, who worked at the PX but got their too late to pick up he paycheck. There was a little girl in the car seat next to her.

The MPs arrived and she loudly told them that I had aimed my pistol at her and my battalion commander told the MPs that "he never told me to aim a pistol and that it wasn't loaded anyway".

I went back into the office and unchambered the round - and I never trusted that idiot for anything again.