My Job, My Hell...

[Laager]

Well the old stuff has all been laid out in front of what we hope to eventually become some nice sized plants. That stuff grows really well and should be going strong by next year.

One of Dean's sisters (Maria Consequelo aka The Con) showed up, so I had to perform a tactical withdrawal or in civilian terms run like hell. I thought she was still up in Grants doing time in the Women's Correctional Facility, but I guess they let her out....her pet name for me on a good day is usually pendejo, mostly with a capital "P". As a general rule she usually just gives me the evil eye and spits at me....sometimes when she is in a talkative mood she uses some endearing phrases such as but not limited to Cabeza de mierda, Vete a la chingada, Chinga a tu madre, Chingada madre, Pinche culero, cabrón and so on and so forth....it really makes those family get togethers kinda awkward...it's darn right spooky to know she cares so much and for so long........1968 and counting.

Anyway while we were up at Dean's we started talking about the time I was on the receiving end of a Thorazine shot and woke up in a straight jacket and later on went to visit with Napoleon Bonaparte and some other interesting people up on the fourth floor......I really liked the guy that spent all day killing nonexistant ants on the dayroom floor........he did not say much...other than the very rare "I'm killing ants".

I'm thinking it was a good thing the 4th floor that had all those bars on the windows and security doors.

Okay, what started this was I got one of those farking thorn clumps stuck in my ass cheek....no not just a single thorn, but a whole farking clump, which then bounced around and stuck me in the other ass cheek and then went on to spear me in both of my lower legs as I was attempting to remove it.....although to hear Dean and Rich tell it, I evidently was running around like a chicken with my head cut off...screaming in a high pitched/hysterical tone....big help they were.......and that brought up the hospital incident.

I would like to point out that while I do accept a small part of the blame, I refuse to accept all of the blame..........

We were on the receiving end of some shit, shit was going out and more shit was coming in............and the last thing I remembered was yelling Last Mag!! Last Mag!!, and I could hear Cragun yelling that he was hit (later I found out that what we all knew was going to happen, did...we kept telling him it was going to happen) and then I woke up in a room, where the nurse and orderly were speaking Spanish........

Note to self: In Case of Emergency you can strangle a nurse near to death with an IV line.....and a bedpan (the old metal enameled ones) make an effective melee weapon in a pinch.

In what was later called a drug induced haze (reduced from assualt charges....as in assaulting an Officer - the nurse and several NCOs - the orderlies - attempted kidnapping - Cragun, oh and assualting Cragun as well) I managed to choke the living shit out of the nurse with my IV line and kick the orderly in the balls a few times and get in a blow or two to his head with the bedpan.

I did notice that Cragun was laying face down in the bed next to me, so I jerked him loose and started dragging him towards the door.

Six of the biggest farking orderlies I have ever seen (outside of the 4th floor) were waiting at the door........

Cragun told me later on that one of the other patients called the nurses station.....rat bastard.......he was probably a pogue.....

Note to self: Evidently there really isn't a Doctor named Strong........calling Doctor Strong means a whole different thing.

The fight was on........................Cragun kept yelling something and was wriggling around a lot, so I evidently dropped his ass (which busted him back open), but well in my defense I was a little busy........biting, scratching, kicking, punching and smacking anyone and everyone I could reach with the bed pan......(in retrospect I should have grabbed the IV stand)......generally trying to go down in a blaze of glory (I'm not sure there is a whole lot of glory when you go down swinging a bed pan, then end up pissing and shitting yourself), then one of them popped me in the ass and I fell back.....noticed a rather large syringe sticking out of my ass cheek, so I pulled it out and stabbed it into one of those big assed orderlies, pushed the plunger down and what do you know....down he went.......one of my last coherent thoughts was holy shit...........as they all dog piled my happy ass and I felt a blow to my ass and then woke up in a straight jacket strapped to a bed, with two of the big assed orderlies standing watch.....well glaring at me....with evil intent I might add.

Note to self: When getting into a brawl being high on morphine is a good thing.

I'd like to point out that going in I had a head injury, yet later on I seemed to have somehow busted (or as I like to now say - sprained my testicles), broke my nose, and several ribs as well as receiving a bite mark on my right ear and left index finger........some plastic surgery later and I was almost as good as new....except for the farking scar down the front of my forehead although it did remove a lot of worry lines and wrinkles from my face........

Rumor control had it that I did manage to keep my end up in the fight and gave as good as I got for the most part.........all I know is my testicals were severly sprained.....not that I was going to get the chance to use them anytime soon........still it was the principal of the matter.

Missed an Article 15 or worse by a pubic hair.....evidently its hard to charge someone who is legally higher than a kite on morphine for pretty much anything and I did point out that the people who had been shooting at us were speaking Spanish and when I woke up the people around me were speaking Spanish.......also the Code of Conduct, Article III - goes something like this - If I am captured I will continue to resist by all means available. I will make every effort to escape and to aid others to escape. I will accept neither parole nor special favors from the enemy.

I was resisting by all means available.....isn't that what you taught me?

Bottom line I insisted that I thought they were the enemy............Spanish speaking people shooting at you.......Spanish speaking people in the room when you wake up.......hmmmmmmmm.......at what point did I consider that the new group of orderlies spoke english? I was a little busy at the time and well I blame it on the morphine.......it really never dawned on me.

Although my medical records did acquire a nice new notation (in bold red letters I might add)- Antisocial personality disorder - I have a feeling it was because I kept repeating my name, rank, service number and date of birth......basically Article V of the Code of Conduct - When questioned, should I become a prisoner of war, I am required to give name, rank, service number, and date of birth. I will evade answering further questions to the utmost of my ability. I will make no oral or written statements disloyal to my country and its allies or harmful to their cause.

Then again what the heck do I know....other than I refused to participate in their Reindeer Games. I spent a few hours just sitting in the shrinks office looking at him......not saying a word.....probably did not help my case.

Note to self: From what I managed to find out.....never, never, ever, ever threaten them........because if you do its Involuntary institutionalization for you......see you in a few months........(I learned this at the VA Clinic in Sturgis South Dakota.......when one of my fellow vets disappeared for a few months....he was never the same afterwards - I was thinking Invasion of the Body snatchers, but it turned out they put him on some harsh meds that altered his personality - prozac was one of them, if I remember correctly, that stuff scared the crap out of me).

Now Junior wants to slap some Neosporin on my ass and legs.........I told her I'd prefer, in fact I insist on waiting till her mother gets home sometime tomorrow.....it is after all her Mother's job/responsibility/duty......I do believe I'll be sleeping face down tonight.....and probably for a few more nights as well.

Dean did offer, but I'd rather not be anywhere near The Con with my pants off or down around my ankles and bent over as well...........she was in prison you know......

It was a long assed drive back down the mountains...........and now its time to hit the sack and look forward to the hour and a half drive to the airport to pick up Lil.....then the farking long assed drive back.......with any luck I can talk her into fixing me up in the family restroom....but somehow I doubt it....she has a tendency to let things stew (so to speak) as a valuable learning lesson........I should never have introduced her to my Red Neck relatives in Alabama......one of her favorite sayings is:

Well that'll learn ya...............(usually it does).

Great now my Mother wants to come over and check out my ass............shit.......it just keeps getting better and better.........

[airballrad]

it just keeps getting better and better.........

And now you've shared the whole experience with a few thousand of your closest friends.

[Laager]

airballrad - It only gets better or worse depending on your viewpoint............who knew they still made Mercurochrome (evidently my Mother buys it by the gallon in Mexico, since they don't make it here or sell it here any longer.......sure that's what will fix me up a healthy dose of Mecury posioning - evidently Former Navy Nurses (my Mother for example) from the 1950's who are now nearing 90+ years in age by the way, highly recommend the use of Mercurochrome and Hydrogen peroxide. Expecially since it has some alcohol in it....cause you know that is how you know its working....from the burning sensation in your ass and legs.

Now we have my Mother (the Nurse - once a Nurse always a Nurse my ass), my one and only sister (also a Nurse) and my neice the veterinary physician (in training, Vet school is out for the summer) all looking at my ass and discussing various means of treatment, but settle on the Mercurochrome and Hydrogen peroxide......

Exactly what the hell does a Veterinary Physician know about human asses?

As pointed out by the Niece - You should not be drinking alcohol (one beer and a shot of Patron) while injured.....it seems that two out of two family relatives who are Nurses concur with the future Vet Physician.....anyone's dog or cat drink alcohol before being seeing the Vet?? I know mine don't...yet.

Of course they probed each and every entrance wound (thankfully there were no exit wounds), just to be on the safe side of course....nothing was found.

Me to the Niece: Hey do you know what the heck you are doing back there?

N: I worked on a dog that had porcupine quills in it once.

Me: Great, just farking great.......

Evidently the case of Neosporin that I have was not good enough for me, but Neosporin can and will be used exclusively on the Great Granddaughter....figures.....

So now I've been assed probed without Anesthesia or the use of any of the tubes of Lidocaine Gel that I have to numb up the area.

Oh but it gets better, for those of you that have never had the pleasure of having used Mercurochrome it has one other redeeming social factor, it stains the skin RED.....so I also have a red ass, thighs and lower legs.

So the break down goes something like this:

Approx 3 dozen or so puncture wounds to my ass and back of my legs
Probed without pain killer
Ass and legs stained a nice shade of Red - cause you know we have to make sure we put enough on to kill any infection
Ass and legs hurt
Mercurary posioning an accute possibility
In front of their Mother, Sister and Neice (the future Vet)

This begs the question of exactly what kind of person would drive two hours or so (now that is one way and it is usually more cause they don't drive faster than 50 mph in a 70 mph zone) to Juarez Mexico to by Mexician Mercurochrome (with Mecurary in it by the way) by the farking gallon....of course braving the current uptick in violence in that lovely border town....other than my parents......

From my Father's five minute visit: Son, better you than me.

[Laager]

I was PCSing (changing assignments from Korea to Fort Benning) and since I was riding my motorcycle from Oakland to Columbus Ga on I-10, I decided to stop by my parents house to say hi.

I arrived around 8.00am, knocked on the door and waited for someone to answer the door. My Mother opened the door.

M: Why did'nt you just come on in?

Me: It's not my house.

M: Well stop standing around and come on in.......

After about an hour or so, she tells me that my Father would "love" it if I would go out to the Base and have lunch with him at the Chow Hall.

Me: Which one?

M: The one across the street from his office.

Me: That one requires you to be in uniform in order to eat there.

M: So, put your uniform on and go see your Father. I'm sure it will make him happy.

Me: (Silently) yea right................

So I put on my Class B Khaki Summer Uniform and assorted medals, geegaws, and away I went.

Everything went well until I arrived at the PMEL building (it was a secure facility and they had a Tech Sergeant/E-6 supply pogue sitting at the controlled entry point).

Tech: Can I help you?

Me: Yes, I have an appointment to see CMSgt Priest.

Tech: I'm sorry, but he is in a meeting at the moment.

Me: Do you know how long the meeting is supposed to last?

Tech: No

Me: Well then, is there anyway you could get a message to him?

Tech: I believe so, and you are?

Well now, my farking nametag is pinned to my uniform.

Me: Corporal Priest.

Tech: Priest? Any relationship to the Chief?

Me: Why yes, yes there is......I am his oldest son.

Tech: Really? Your picture isn't in his office, I thought he only had four sons and a daughter.

Me: Oh, well I'm the one he doesn't claim.....the Black Sheep you know....

Tech: Well then, that explains it. Please have a seat over there.

Right after I sat down and before the fat assed Tech Sergeant got up off her ass to take the note into his office (important meeting you know), a Master Sergeant/E-7 that knew me came wandering by with a cup of coffee in his hand.

Master Sergeant: Hey, what are you doing here?

Me: Sitting.

Master Sergeant: Who gave you all those medals?

Me: Master Sergeant, no one gave me these medals, in fact I had to fight for them, unlike yours.

MS: Still the wise ass I see. Are you here to see your Dad?

Me: I'm supposed to go to lunch with my Father.

MS: Well come on in, were having coffee and shooting the shit in his office.

Sure enough, when I got to his office they were all sitting around drinking coffee with their feet propped up.

MS: Chief, there's someone here to see you.

Father: Who?

Master Sergeant: The bad penny.

Me: Corporal Priest, Reporting as Ordered.

Father: Well take a seat over there and let us finish this up and then we can go to to chow.

Me: Roger that Chief Master Sergeant.

The Tech Sergeant was correct, there were several 8X10 photo's of my brothers and sister in his office, not a single one of me....although I swear there was a family portrait that looked like I had been folded out.

Lunch went about as well as expected.

Now if you go to his home office there are still no pictures of me, but there are 8X10 pictures of Lil in uniform now and some of Junior and her husband and one of my son from Basic Training.

[airballrad]

Now if you go to his home office there are still no pictures of me, but there are 8X10 pictures of Lil in uniform now and some of Junior and her husband and one of my son from Basic Training.

Well now, I'm sure it's from not wanting you to outshine the rest of the family on account of your unspeakable good looks.
For the record I also recall the joys of Mercurochrome, although when I had done something especially stupid to need an antiseptic my mother would get out the Merthiolate because it burns more.

At work this week I got to set up the portable solar energy system my group is considering to power sensors in the field. It was pretty neat, but this time of year the deer flies are out. They are small, fast, and they bite like a sonuvabitch. I wonder if we have any beekeeper suits around.

[Mr_Sheesh]

Our family liked "Gimp" (it's some kind of iodine solution) more than Mercurochrome, at least that lessened my Mercury exposure.

[Laager]

Allthorn - 3 (four wheelers) - definate injuries 2 with a possible 2 more who abandoned their four wheelers. 1 leather work boot and sock with assorted blood residue.
Humans - 0

Note to self: Proper PPE (Personal Protective Equipment) is a must when riding as well as when handling Allthorn remains.

Four wheelers were taken and turned in to the Sheriff's Department......

[taskforce71]

Tech: Really? Your picture isn't in his office, I thought he only had four sons and a daughter.

So, um why doesn't your father like having a picture of you in his office?

[TheLastRifleMan]

Let's stay on topic please. Just sayin'.

[Laager]

taskforce71 - It has to do with letting someone else raise your child for almost six years and the name they gave me.......imho, you can't let "the village" raise you kid and then wonder why they won't fit in with the way you want them to behave......not that I was a trouble maker, but trouble always seems to follow me around.

I should point out that when my parents found out that I married (when I brought Lil home) my Father took me aside and said..."son, looks like once again you pulled it off..........try not to mess it up, I don't know what she sees in you, but you fell into a bucket of shit and came out smelling like a rose.......

Me: Father, like always, it's been a learning experience talking to you.

They love the heck out of Lil and the kids............and for some odd reason call me first when shit goes wrong or they need help.......but those are other stories.



When I first started working for fed.gov it was as a warehouse worker for the DeCA or what is known on military posts/bases as the Commissary (basically a military supermarket chain).

Lil at that time was working as the food inspector, she inspected and certified all the food that came into the commissary.

When I was hired the warehouse supervisor told me that he expected me to work and not hang out with Lil.

My response was, hell I already spend enough time with her, another 8 hours added on to it and she will end up killing me.

Anyway, about the only thing that would happen is that we would say hi or wave as one of us passed the other on his or her way to do something, she had her on office located outside of the warehouse.

Standard operating procedures at the time were to have two men check in all the food, we counted everything that came in and had to note any issues like overages or shortages or even wrong items, so the second guy was a double check.

One day Phil and I were checking in the Little Debbie delivery driver's load of products and Lil came walking by, she said Hi, gave me a smile and a wave and kept going.

Then things went down hill......................or got funny..................

Little Debbie Driver (LDD): I think she likes me.

Me: Who?

LDD: Sergeant Priest.

Me: No, she was waving at me.

LDD: The hell she was, she's got the hots for me and I'm working on getting some of that.

I looked over at Phil and shook my head and then went back to talking to the LDD.

Me: No, I'm pretty sure that she was waving at me and not you.

LDD: I'm telling you, you're crazier than a shit house rat if you think something like that would have anything to do with you. I'm in like Flint.

Me: My ass, you don't stand a farking snowball's chance in Hell. Besides you know she married right?

LDD: Says who? I've been chatting her up for almost a month and I'm fixing to move on that. So what if she is married, I'm married and it has not stopped me.

He was getting pretty loud and a bit angry over my lack of belief in his ability to get hooked up with Lil. About now Phil has brought over the rest of the warehouse workers and they are all standing around watching us.

Me: Hmmmm, well you know some people take their wedding vows seriously and some folks, like you don't. Look, let me ask you a couple of questions?

LDD: Sure.....what?

Me: Do you know what her name is?

LDD: Yes, it's Sergeant Priest..........

Me: First name?

LDD: I don't know.....

Me: It's Lilith, but people she knows call her Lil for short.

Me: Do you know if she has any children?

LDD: No, I don't know, what does this have to do with anything?

Me: She has two, a girl and a boy......just hang on a minute and everything will become crystal clear or at least it should be. Do you by any chance know what my name is?

LDD: It's Deke.

Me: Last name?

LDD: I don't know, what does it matter?

Me: My last name is Priest, and no we are definately not related by blood (as I hold up my left hand and show him my wedding ring).

The LDDs started to look like he was going to have a stroke.......... the warehouse guys started laughing as Lil comes walking back in and smiles and waves at us.....

Me: So what do you really think your chances are of hitting that shit? Come on now, don't be shy...........you were pretty adamant and loud a few mintues ago........me, I'd say you have about a zero percent chance of success, but then again what do I know, other than being not only her husband but the father of her two children.....take your best shot, she's right over there.

We never saw the LDD driver again, he traded routes for some odd reason.

Later on when we were at home:

Hey Baby....the Little Debbie guy wants a date with you, any chance I'm going to get lucky enough to see you move out?

Lil: When hell freezes over............and then some........Did he really say that?

Me: Shit.............oh well.......yep you should have been there.................


One day I'll tell you about her funeral plans for me..............my questions is how or why does she think I will go first?



Anyone want to hear about why I went out with my brother John Paul once and only once back in High School, then beat the heck out of him and he ended up in the back of the car trunk for 20 miles or so?

[areswithguns]

Lol hell yes i do!

[Viper shtf]

Hell yeah!

[Laager]

Okay this is sort of job related as my Mother told me to take my brother John Paul out with me and my friends (babysitting a 9th grader is how I looked at it, my parents looked at it as socializing with your brother)......................we only went out once..........but we do get along a lot better now that we are both older. Although he is still a little touchy about me kicking the snot out of him and leaving him naked at the school bus stop, but that's another story.

We were all stuffed into Kevin's 1966 Lincoln Continental with those wonderful suicide doors (man I wish I had bought that car), and mostly were hanging out around the larger town down the road. Hey our town's claim to teenage night life was a Tastee Freeze. They had a several drive-in burger joints that the kids in both towns used to hang out at on the weekends. While we were there a school friend that lived out at the base (Freddy Baldwin - well it was Frederica) came up and asked us if we could give her a ride home. Since Ted had the hots for her, we decided to give her a ride out to the base.......besides it was always funny to watch Ted try to talk to her...............

So we squeezed seven people into that Lincoln at about 10.00pm and headed out towards the base. We hung out at her place for awhile and then decided it was time to head back into town.

Well evidently the military base (Air Force Base) had a curfew.......and they took it very seriously, well at least seriously enough to stop a car load of teenagers. So about 20 feet from the main gate a Security Police officer in a marked car pulled us over and then two more walked over from the main gate.

As the SP was walking up it was agreed that we would all give them fake names..........now there are three guys sitting up front and three of us sitting in the back, my brother was sitting next to me in the rear (he was in the middle and I was sitting behind the driver's seat).

The SP did not ask Kevin for his license or registration, but just leaned in and told us that we were out after curfew and wanted to know what we were doing.

So Kevin told him that we had just dropped off a friend and were now headed back to town. It helped that Freddie's Dad was a senior NCO in the Security Police and Ted dropped his name a few times.

There are now three SPs standing around and one of them says to get our names and addresses.

So everyone trots out their favorite fake names...(theirs all actually bleonged to people we did not like (Ted liked to use the local drug dealers name and Kevin liked to use his sister's boyfriend's name, the others had other people's names that they use.

Me? Well I've always been partial to my favorite cousin from Theodore Alabama............His name is James Osborne.....so I always use his name (still do....lol)

He gets three names and addresses from Dean, Ted and Kevin, then the SP motions for me to roll the window down and says, what's your name and where do you live?

Looks to me like everything is going fine...............so far.

SO: What's your name and address?

Me: Sir, my name is James M. Osborne..........but I go by Jim.

SP: What's the M stand for?

Me: Monroe.

SP: Address?

Me: 1313 Mockingbird Lane...........I did not think I could get away with 0001 Cemetery Lane. I was waiting to see if he recognized the address, but evidently he did not.

He then looks over at my brother John Paul and asks him for his name and address....

John Paul: My name? My name?

SP: Yes your name and address.....

John Paul: With a deer in the head lights look he blurts out............My name is Deacon Bishop Priest and I live at 2504 Duranzo Street, my phone number is and he gives them our home phone number.

I thought I was going to have a stroke right on the spot..........

SP: Then goes on to ask Ted his name and address, then they give us a warning about being out after curfew, and that they might be contacting us at a later point, then they sent us on our merry way...................

I don't think we even cleared the gate before I asked John Paul what the hell was he thinking................

John Paul: Well you said give him someone else's name.........so I did.........

Me: You gave him mine!!

John Paul: Well it wasn't my name................

Kevin had to pull over and they pulled me off of him (it took four of them to pull me off)............it was either let me kill him in the car, leave him on the side of the road (20 miles from home, which was a no go, since Father had told me to bring him back alive or not come home at all) or stuff one of us in the trunk...........they let me stuff him in the trunk for the ride home. None to gently, for some reason he did not want to go quietly into the trunk.........at least it was a roomy trunk and not like one of the small imports at the time.

For some reason he never wanted to go out with us again, one black eye, a bloody nose and split lip and assorted other bumps and knots for John Paul was a good time for me. Mother asked me to take him out with us again, but he never accepted the offer.

Everyone else thought it was (and they still do) funnier than heck..................

As Junior, Dean and Rich like to point out, technically John Paul was in the right...........it wasn't his name.................he was only following my instructions.

[MFDoom]

This story won't be nearly as funny as the others listed but all the GI's on the forum might get a laugh out of this. It was kind of scary at the time.

A bit of background: I am a Civvy, the first generation in my family to not serve. I'm familiar with the military traditions and customs and have more than average sense on how to interact with our men and women in uniform. Now on to the story as best as I can remember it.

So at the time I was a civilian contractor for NAVAIR and had the opportunity and pleasure to travel to most of the Naval Air stations in the CONUS. We had just gotten back from a road show that took us to NAS JAX, NAS ATL, NAS Coronado Island, and the big command at Norfolk, VA. We had been out of our "home base", offices in a hangar in NAVAIR HQ in Pax River, MD when the following events transpired.

So we get back into our office which consisted of several IT support staff and a few uniformed men and women performing some admin duties. A few of the IT support staff were from a rival firm, but we all played nice together, for the good of the USN. I go into the supply drawer my pen yet again grew legs and walked away from my desk. I open our supply drawer and while digging for the pens, I find a box of 9mm ammo with approximately 1/2 of the box empty. I call my manager over and whisper, "what the hell is this, why do we have ammo in our supply drawer? My manager was a permanent resident and was not born in the US, nor had any familiarity with the military. He tells me that "we're on a military base and that it was no big deal if we found ammo lying around. Whoever it is will come and get it." I, being very very junior, protested but was told to forget about it. I knew it wasn't right, so I quietly excused myself and went to the Master Chief's office.

That conversation was short and sweet.

*Knock Knock*
Master Chief: Come In.
ME: Master Chief, I wanted to let you know that I opened our supply drawer and discovered a partially empty box of 9mm ammo.
Master Chief: WHAT
ME: Master Chief, I discovered this box of ammo approximately 5 minutes ago. I told my manager and immediately came to tell you sir.
Master Chief: Thank you, I'll take it from here.

He gets on the phone and exactly 2 minutes later the hangar is on lock down. Navy Base Security is sweeping through the hangar in full kit with K9's, everyone is escorted outside while the sweep continues, etc etc.

Once we were cleared we went to grab lunch, when we come back the Master Chief pops in to thank "us" for notifying him and that they found more contraband than just the ammo. Apparently illegal drugs / pills were also found in the hangar and were confiscated. The Flag Officer was briefed and was PISSED. As for our team, we decided that it was a good time to be elsewhere and ended up going to visit MCAS Cherry Point to work with the team out there while this incident ran its course. While on our way down to NC, my manager turns to me and says, "I had no idea that the box of ammo would be such a big deal, I mean it is a military base right, there are guns and ammo here right?" Yeah boss, but the guns and ammo are in the armory, and every weapon and bullet is accounted for, they aren't just lying around in drawers, and definitely not in our office."

While out at Cherry Point, we had a SEAL turned Civilian Director that told us some crazy stories about Laos and Cambodia in Vietnam, and my manager was a bit rattled, but that is for another story, if you don't run me out of this forum.

[Jeriah]

While out at Cherry Point, we had a SEAL turned Civilian Director that told us some crazy stories about Laos and Cambodia in Vietnam, and my manager was a bit rattled, but that is for another story, if you don't run me out of this forum.

Pray, do continue.

[Laager]

Yes, do tell................

[areswithguns]

Lol dam laager. That is some funny shit.

[Laager]

This is probably cheating but this one is from my brother the Shrink's work

He is a shrink at a large military post and often has to creat forms to track patients and what not, usually the forms are not completely filled out and the excuse is they did not understand, so this time my brother came up with a plan.

He creates the form, then takes it and a clip board out to the waiting area (filled with patients) and asks for their attention.

There are about a dozen of them sitting in the waiting room and they all look up.

I'd like each and every one of you to stand up, starting with you and tell me what your ASVAB score is.

First Guy - 85

Mike: Wow, that's pretty good....(out of 100).

Next guy and it is somewhere in the 70's.

It goes on for awhile when they reach one guy who stands up and says 33.........and sits back down.

My brother says okay, anyone else here that has lower than a 33?

They all say no......

So he says here, take a look at this and fill it out for me.

The Private takes the form and fills it out completely and then returns it to him...(he was waiting for it)...

Mike gives it a look to see if it was completely filled out, and it was.

He tells the Private thank you, please take your seat.

He looks at everyone else and says......so the rest of you don't even have an excuse not to complete the form.

The Private says.............Sir, that was fucked up.

Everyone looked at my brother waiting for him to blow up, they are all in basic training after all............

He looks around the room and says, Why yes, yes it was..........and since you are smart enough to figure that out, I'll be the one to evaluate you.

[Mr_Sheesh]

Allthorn - 3 (four wheelers) - definate injuries 2 with a possible 2 more who abandoned their four wheelers. 1 leather work boot and sock with assorted blood residue.
Humans - 0

Note to self: Proper PPE (Personal Protective Equipment) is a must when riding as well as when handling Allthorn remains.

Four wheelers were taken and turned in to the Sheriff's Department......

LOL Almost as good as the other stories here TBH; Guys WERE told to knock it off, this time they 'got the point' (Ya bad pun )

[MFDoom]

Yes, do tell................

We were on a site visit to Marine Corps Air Station (MCAS) Cherry Point. 3 weeks prior to said site visit, I being the group grunt, got to type up a letter listing our Names, SSN's and Passport ID's and place of birth to be submitted to the base commanding officer letting him know of our planned visit cause apparently that's how the Corps rolled.
So after writing said correspondence, and arriving on base with the team, I assumed that Corporal so and so on Guard duty at the gate would know to expect us due to the letter. No surprise to anyone here that when we showed up they had no clue, but waved us through because we had CAC cards. Thats 15 minutes of my life I'll never get back, but I digress.

I'll also briefly point out that the work we were doing would have "headcount" implications.

So we clear the gate and get to the Maintenance Hangar, set up and have a meet and greet with the Senior Executive Service lead on location. Now here is where the story gets interesting. Mind you it is bright and sunny, about 0930. Mr. SES guy ushers us into his office, which has NO LIGHTS on except for a small lamp. Mr. SES guy is about 295 lbs and kinda round. Doesn't look like the military type if you know what I mean.

After very brief small talk, he begins to tell us his back story, which for him started as a Navy Seal in demolition operating "all up and thru Laos and Cambodia".
He proceeded to tell us in graphic detail of how he killed some Viet Cong and blew some stuff up. He then proceeds to tell us how he got out of the Navy and into civilian life, and knows tons of Senators and Congressmen, is well connected, and to basically that we should do what we came to do but he will not be effed with. How he retires in 2 years, and after that you can do whatever you want, blah blah. All with no lights on except a small lamp mind you.

While this story/lecture is taking place, I keep peeking over to my boss who is visiably confused by all of this and doesn't quite know what to say or do. After a few more stories and name dropping on Congress, the guy cuts us loose to go work,and also cuts on the lights.

Walking back to our area my boss asks me what I thought about our meeting with Mr. SES.

Me: I simply said, I think he just ran a PsyOp on you.
Boss: But you were there too, so if he ran a PsyOp on me he ran one on you also
Me: I am not easily intimidated, and since I'm a grunt, I don't have any power, so none of that applied to me at all.
Boss: But he is well connected, I wonder what the implications will be
Me: blank stare...
Boss: Do you think he was a SEAL?
Me: Most people I know don't go around impersonating Special Forces soldiers
Boss: I thought the US couldn't go into Laos or Cambodia during Vietnam
Me: I'm pretty sure SEAL's go where they want to go.

and then we just decided to go about our business like normal. My boss stayed the hell away from Mr. SES though.
I'm not sure if MR. SES lost his job or not but by now he should have retired.

[Laager]

CQ or Charge of Quarters - is a duty that we used to have to pull every once in awhile (rumor control had it that the First Sergeant was actually able to prove by some chart or graph exactly how it came to be that you ended up pulling CQ every holiday), basically it required the CQ and the CQR or Charge of Quarters Runner (of course this duty requred two service members, one non-commissioned officer (NCO) and the other a lower enlisted service member), sit at a desk and monitor incoming and outgoing traffic into the barracks. There are also usually some other duties like performing radio checks every few hours (or land line checks and or both) with other company barracks and battalion headquarters around the base or surrounding installations (depending on exactly where we were stationed and of course how much trouble we had been in). Other duties could include but were not limited to checking the inside and outside of the barracks, bed checks to ensure service members were in their rooms with their doors locked by lights out or curfew, check to ensure all wall lockers were secure when the soldier was not within arms reach and a host of other fun type stuff, latrine checks and of course watching out for drunks.

Duty period was 24 hours, although during the duty week the CQR stayed in the barracks and the CQ performed his duties until last formation, at that time he assumed responsibility for the barracks, all the equipment located inside the barracks as well as the inidiviudal soliders living in the barracks.

The CQ's duties were spelled out in a nice binder, and we were supposed to log in "incidents of note"..........

I was called into the First Sergeants office after pulling CQ (as a Corporal/E-4) a few times. It seems that I failed to follow instructions since my log notations were extremely limited in scope.

I should point out that during CQ duty you are not allowed to watch TV, listen to a radio or read anything other than military manuals.

Usually my log entries consisted of:

Assumed duty.
Performed 1800hrs barracks inspection (my hourly checks for the 12 hours I was on duty or on a weekend 24 checks)
Battalion Staff Duty NCO or Officer (Bascially a CQ but in charge of the entire battalion) arrived for inspection/left. Passed or failed inspection.
Brigade Staff Duty NCO or Officer arrived for inspection/left. Passed or failed inspection.
Relieved of Duty by......

Our First Sergeant usually like to have us show up in his office with our Platoon Chain of Command......Section Sergeant, Platoon Sergeant...just depended on what rank you were and what duty position you filled.

Corporal Priest, have you read and understood the Charge of Quarters duties?

Me: Yes First Sergeant.

FS: So can you explain to me why your log entries do not note anything other than the bare minimum?

Me: First Sergeant, because nothing of "note" occurred while I was on duty.

FS: So, no one threw up in First Platoon's latrine last night?

Me: First Sergeant, yes someone did throw up in First Platoon's latrine last night.

FS: Why wasn't that logged into the CQ Log?

Me: First Sergeant, the reason it is not in the CQ Log is because it happens all the time......therefore it is not "note worthy", it is a common occurrance.

FS: I'm the one that decides what's note worthy or not......and I'm telling you that is note worthy.

Me: Yes First Sergeant.

FS: I expect you to step up your game Corporal, I need to know exactly what is going on in my barracks when I am not here.

Me: Yes First Sergeant.

FS: Dismissed.

So, here are a few of the 15 or so "note worthy" stuff that happened in the 12 hours when I happened to have CQ again.

1700: Assumed duty.
1710: Sat down in CQ chair.
1712: Phone rang....three times. I answered it. It was the wrong number.
1730: CQR passed gas. I believe it was due to the Chow Hall food he had for chow.
1735: Due to the smell I decided it might be a good idea to inspect the outside of the barracks and surrounding area.
1820: Returned to CQ desk. Exterior area is all secure at this time, interior doors are secure. CQ area still smells. I believe the CQR might have sharted himself.
1820: Phone rang again.....four times...answered it. A female wanted to know who I was, I am not sure she was sober as I idenitied myself and our unit when I answered the phone. Gave her the First Sergeants direct number for future contacts.
1835: Sent CQR to shit shower and return to duty. Getting dizzy from the CQR's smell.
1900: CQR still shitting and showering, has yet to return. Unable to perform hourly checks.
1915: CQR has returned, I am not 100% sure he shit, showered and changed his uniform as the smell has returned.
2000: I've killed six flies, it appears that the CQR's smell is attracting them. I have them lined up on the CQ desk.
2230: CQR and I are discussing the mole on the the 3rd Platoon Sergeant's wife's face. I believe it is a mole, he says it is a wart. I am not sure but do warts have hairs that grow out of them? If not them I'm right and it is one heck of a mole.
2245: We flipped a coin and decided to call it a wart (I still think its a mole....a hairy assed mole).
0001: Someone took a dump in the 1st Platoon latrine and failed to flush it. Woke up the entire Platoon and had them flush all the shitters and urinals. Once that was done I sent them back to their rooms. Oh and they have no TP, so they have some nasty ass soldiers in that Platoon, probably a good idea not to shake hands with them, cause if they don't wipe their nasty asses, then I suspect they don't wash their hands as well.
0100: A POV (Privately Owned Vehicle) drove by head North, destination unknown.
0150: The same POV came back, this time heading South, destination still unknown.
0200: No sign of the Battalion Staff Duty NCO or Officer.
0300: Called Battalion HQ....phone rang 10 times. No one answered it...they may be asleep.
0400: Called Brigade HQ, phone rang four times, someone answered...they were asleep or possibly drunk. I could not understand what they were saying, the individual in question was slurring his words. Decided to hang up and call back. No one answered.

I noted each and everytime I got out of the chair, sat in the chair shift the chair's position/location, opened a desk drawer, picked up a pen/pencil, number of tiles on the ceiling, number of steps I took, when I took a piss, how long and where as well as where I washed my hands and how many paper towels I used. Every conversation I had with people on the phone, people who stopped in, every soldier that came and went as well as what the CQR and I talked about.

Evidently I still do not understand what a note worthy items is..........I told the First Sergeant that I was under the impression that it was something along the lines of:
We are at war
Unit called out.


You know the kind of stuff that usually did not happen on a daily or routine basis, like this stuff:

Gunfire was heard in or around the barracks (again)
Someone was killed.
Someone was put into the hospital.
Someone stole a weapon and ammo...(again)
Building on fire (again)
Something exploded in a room (cheese charges were the usual culprit, although rumor has it C4 and a hand grenade went off a time or two)
Knife fights
Fist fights
Theft
Stolen items found in a common area.
Someone laced the Captains coffee with LSD - again......lost two Captains due to this. Note to self: It is not a good idea to make the people on extra duty clean and make coffee for the Captain. But what did I know....I was just a Corporal and did not have "the Big Picture".
Drugs found in the First Sergeants office, the Platoon Sergeants room/office area (see note to self above).
Drunks
Arrows found stuck into the exterior of the building and the building across the way.
Someone passed out in the latrine (usually covered in shit, piss and puke or at least two out of three)
Found a soldier stuffed into his wall locker, wall locker is currently locked. We do not have any bolt cutters, they were stolen.....again.
Found a soldier duct taped to his bunk.
Drunk soldier showed up, edge dressing does stain human skin........but will eventually wear off.

I was told to get out of his office and he kept my Section Sergeant and Platoon Sergeant in his office for awhile.

I ended up pulling CQ duties frequently and often for a long time.......my CQ logs were always extremely detailed and long winded.

I should point out that once I increased the number of pages, other CQ's started putting in more stupid stuff as well.

[Viper shtf]

Nicely done!

[TheLastRifleMan]

Did I write one about the time a county deputy sheriff had a S&W model 65-2 pointed at me with the hammer back in SA mode while I was working the dishroom of a restaurant?

[Polley]

Did I write one about the time a county deputy sheriff had a S&W model 65-2 pointed at me with the hammer back in SA mode while I was working the dishroom of a restaurant?

Did you have to change your pants or just your shorts?