rotorwash
02-07-07, 02:56
Was talking to a friend of mine today and was reminded of this story that happened while we were being subjected to various indiginities at one Army school or another.
Lights out was at 10 pm, but many of us were not inclined to sleep, so we devised some entertainment - cockroach races. The ignoble steeds were recruited from various dark corners of the barracks and daubed with something to give them some identifying color. They were then placed in a canteen cup and entrusted to the guy in charge of the starting gate, whatever his proper title is. Some of you sophisticated folks might know. We then found a flat spot of floor with enough spectating room for all interested parties, which just happened to be under the light just inside the main door.
A three foot circle was drawn on the floor with an X in the center for the starting point. As soon as all bets had been placed and a large crowd of faces were gathered around, the starting guy popped the canteen cup on the floor and shook out the contestants. Immediately the cheering started. All of the contestants took off except one poor confused roach who just stood there. A winner was declared, but one disgruntled loser brought his number 10 down on the poor critter that could not get started. The result was as one would expect.
What we did not expect was that one of the training NCO's had quietly joined our happy throng and was about to administer military justice.
Punishment was creative to an unimaginable degree. We had to find the field manual that dealt with military funerals and we had to provide the deceased contestant with a complete military funeral.
A matchbox was the coffin, suitably draped with an appropriate sized flag, carried by six pallbearers, proceeded by an armed honor guard and followed by the rest of the unit in class A uniforms to an appropriately dug grave on the edge of the forest.
Of course it was impossible to keep a straight face during all of this, and the route of march was strewn with men counting out ten pushups for disrespecting the dead. Especially memorable was the individual reading the service doing it from the front leaning rest because he could not control his emotions.
The only thing that went off without a hitch was the 21 gun salute.
Can't believe I had to be reminded of this incident. Oh well, such was Special Forces.
Rotor
Lights out was at 10 pm, but many of us were not inclined to sleep, so we devised some entertainment - cockroach races. The ignoble steeds were recruited from various dark corners of the barracks and daubed with something to give them some identifying color. They were then placed in a canteen cup and entrusted to the guy in charge of the starting gate, whatever his proper title is. Some of you sophisticated folks might know. We then found a flat spot of floor with enough spectating room for all interested parties, which just happened to be under the light just inside the main door.
A three foot circle was drawn on the floor with an X in the center for the starting point. As soon as all bets had been placed and a large crowd of faces were gathered around, the starting guy popped the canteen cup on the floor and shook out the contestants. Immediately the cheering started. All of the contestants took off except one poor confused roach who just stood there. A winner was declared, but one disgruntled loser brought his number 10 down on the poor critter that could not get started. The result was as one would expect.
What we did not expect was that one of the training NCO's had quietly joined our happy throng and was about to administer military justice.
Punishment was creative to an unimaginable degree. We had to find the field manual that dealt with military funerals and we had to provide the deceased contestant with a complete military funeral.
A matchbox was the coffin, suitably draped with an appropriate sized flag, carried by six pallbearers, proceeded by an armed honor guard and followed by the rest of the unit in class A uniforms to an appropriately dug grave on the edge of the forest.
Of course it was impossible to keep a straight face during all of this, and the route of march was strewn with men counting out ten pushups for disrespecting the dead. Especially memorable was the individual reading the service doing it from the front leaning rest because he could not control his emotions.
The only thing that went off without a hitch was the 21 gun salute.
Can't believe I had to be reminded of this incident. Oh well, such was Special Forces.
Rotor