My Job, My Hell...

Share a survival experience with us and explain what you learned from it. You might help someone.

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Laager
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Joined: Sun Jun 20, 2010 9:25 pm

Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Wed Jan 09, 2019 8:59 pm

woodsghost wrote:
Wed Jan 09, 2019 7:28 pm
Welcome back Laager! I was wondering how it all turned out.

Well let us just say that it was a long drive from Manila to Olongapo City.

I also had to give up my Guns and gear allowance to pay for my last minute (due to my behavior) round trip ticket.

It was a very “frosty” reception at the airport and she in no uncertain terms told me I was not to say a single word until we got home.
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

Laager
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Posts: 803
Joined: Sun Jun 20, 2010 9:25 pm

Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Wed Jan 16, 2019 6:23 pm

Okay this happened at an Air Force Base that has since closed, but will remain unknown for a good reason, the Army was standing up the 10th up in New York and was looking for soldiers to volunteer to transfer to the new unit.

Anyway a few of us were sent up and we were on our way back (farking MAC flight nightmare) and we ended up stuck on one of the Air Forces Northern tier bases and were stuck there for almost two weeks in the middle of winter.

Of course as usual we had the wrong duffle bag. A & B bags set up for winter and the other was set up for summer.

So like my Grandma used to say “idle hands are the devils playground”, so mix in drunk soldiers stuck on an Air Force Base. Snow up the wax o and you have the Devils work Shop.

It snowed almost every darn day and we would watch the snow plow truck plow the roads around the TLF (on base hotel) , One of the guys I was with found some hydraulic fluid and a bunch of rags in a large rag bag bundle.

One night we went out and buried the cand of hydraulic fluid wrapped up in a bunch or matching rags.

The next morning we waited and watched the snow plow come rumbling down the road.

The snow plow was one of those that blew the snow from the road I’ve to the side of the road.

Of course we were drinking and most of them were drunk or almost drunk when the snow plow sucked up the rags and hydraulic fluid and then chewed up the can, the rags and blew out scraps of rags and a red fluid.

The truck stopped and we were all laughing and slapping each other’s back.

Well the truck did not move for awhile and I don’t know how it happened but eventually a SP (Air Force Security Police) vehicle pulled up.

Then more came, we were still laughing, then an ambulance pulled up.

We really started laughing then. Cause we knew the driver thought he had hit somebody and sucked him up and chewed him up then blew out the clothing, blood and whatnot.

We stopped laughing when they pulled the snow plow operator out of the truck placed him in the stretcher and loaded him up and took off.

Evidently the truck driver thought he killed someone and had a massive heart attack.

Let’s just say that the Base Commander called in a whole bunch of people.

They were not amused in the slightest. The Air Force was going to Court Martial the culprits.

It seemed like a good idea at the time. In fact one of us pulled the same thing over in Germany and did it in Korea.

Lil says I never learn from my mistakes. I do, or like my Granddad said “two can keep a secret if one is dead” my uncle would add and sometime two need to die as well.
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

Laager
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Posts: 803
Joined: Sun Jun 20, 2010 9:25 pm

Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Wed Jan 16, 2019 6:26 pm

Laager wrote:
Wed Jan 16, 2019 6:23 pm
Okay this happened at an Air Force Base that has since closed, but will remain unknown for a good reason, the Army was standing up the 10th up in New York and was looking for soldiers to volunteer to transfer to the new unit.

Anyway a few of us were sent up and we were on our way back (farking MAC flight nightmare) and we ended up stuck on one of the Air Forces Northern tier bases and were stuck there for almost two weeks in the middle of winter.

Of course as usual we had the wrong duffle bag. A & B bags, one of the bags was set up for winter and the other was set up for summer.

So like my Grandma used to say “idle hands are the devils playground”, so mix in drunk soldiers stuck on an Air Force Base. Snow up the wax o and you have the Devils work Shop.

It snowed almost every darn day and we would watch the snow plow truck plow the roads around the TLF (on base hotel) , One of the guys I was with found some hydraulic fluid and a bunch of rags in a large rag bag bundle.

With some discussion and a few drunken fights s plan was hatched.

One night we went out and buried the can of hydraulic fluid wrapped up in a bunch or matching rags. I believe the rags were all blue.

The next morning we waited and watched the snow plow come rumbling down the road.

The snow plow was one of those that blew the snow from the road I’ve to the side of the road.

Of course we were drinking and most of them were drunk or almost drunk when the snow plow sucked up the rags and hydraulic fluid and then chewed up the can, the rags and blew out scraps of rags and a red fluid.

The truck stopped and we were all laughing and slapping each other’s back.

Well the truck did not move for awhile and I don’t know how it happened but eventually a SP (Air Force Security Police) vehicle pulled up.

Then more came, we were still laughing, then an ambulance pulled up.

We really started laughing then. Cause we knew the driver thought he had hit somebody and sucked him up and chewed him up then blew out the clothing, blood and whatnot.

We stopped laughing when they pulled the snow plow operator out of the truck placed him in the stretcher and loaded him up and took off.

Evidently the truck driver thought he killed someone and had a massive heart attack.

Let’s just say that the Base Commander called in a whole bunch of people.

They were not amused in the slightest. The Air Force was going to Court Martial the culprits.

It seemed like a good idea at the time. In fact one of us pulled the same thing over in Germany and did it in Korea.

Lil says I never learn from my mistakes. I do, or like my Granddad said “two can keep a secret if one is dead” my uncle would add and sometime two need to die as well.
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

Laager
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Posts: 803
Joined: Sun Jun 20, 2010 9:25 pm

Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Wed Jan 16, 2019 6:51 pm

Okay I have two more stories, but I'm thinking that once again I would let you guys choose which one comes next.

Option one: the shoe laceless morons.

Option two: New assignment and the loons and goons in 2nd Platoon found out I was being transferred to their unit and a bunch of them wanted either me to not come or to get out of 2nd Platoon.

Readers choice.
Last edited by Laager on Wed Jan 16, 2019 7:09 pm, edited 1 time in total.
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

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Mad Mike
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Favorite Zombie Movies: the walking dead & world war Z

Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Mad Mike » Wed Jan 16, 2019 6:57 pm

laceless morons

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woodsghost
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Joined: Thu May 16, 2013 3:45 pm

Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by woodsghost » Wed Jan 16, 2019 7:07 pm

Dang it! I was going for 2nd Platoon. Well, as long as we get to hear both, I can go with the laceless morons first. :) Both sound excellent.
*Remember: I'm just a guy on the internet :)
*Don't go to stupid places with stupid people & do stupid things.
*Be courteous. Look normal. Be in bed by 10'clock.

“It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to.” -Bilbo Baggins.

Laager
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Posts: 803
Joined: Sun Jun 20, 2010 9:25 pm

Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Wed Jan 16, 2019 7:22 pm

Shoot I forgot about Private Enoch Wachter....well it is a short story so I'll toss this in real quick.

We were all sitting in the GP large tent that was assigned to us (trust me when I say it was a death trap, and those darn hex tents were even worse) when the Company Clerk came in and was escorting a new Private that had the bad luck to be assigned to the Loon Platoon or Goon Platoon depending on who was describing us. Known to Battalion and Brigade as Bravo Company, Second Platoon.

So in comes this new guy and the Company Clerk introduced the new Private and when I heard his name I started laughing. It started as a snicker, but worked it's way up to a really gut busting laugh.

The Company Clerk wanted to know what was so funny, so I told them his name. I mean come on you have to know, the response was no. What's wrong with my name Corporal?

I asked Private Enoch Wachter was Catholic and he told me he was. I really started laughing then. I reached into my foot locker and pulled out one of my assorted religious texts. I then handed Private Enoch Wachter my copy of the Book of Enoch, and showed them the part that described the Watchers. The book of Enoch lists the leaders of the 200 Fallen angels who married human women and taught forbidden knowledge.

He started laughing as well. Come on who names their child after the Fallen? Evidently his parents did. At least someone else had an odd name. His nickname was Watcher.
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

Laager
* * * *
Posts: 803
Joined: Sun Jun 20, 2010 9:25 pm

Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Wed Jan 16, 2019 7:59 pm

Laager wrote:
Wed Jan 09, 2019 8:59 pm
woodsghost wrote:
Wed Jan 09, 2019 7:28 pm
Welcome back Laager! I was wondering how it all turned out.

Well let us just say that it was a long drive from Manila to Olongapo City.

I also had to give up my Guns and gear allowance to pay for my last minute (due to my behavior) round trip ticket.

It was a very “frosty” reception at the airport and she in no uncertain terms told me I was not to say a single word until we got home.
However, on Sunday Lil went ballistic on her Mom and my Father and Mother after she told the kids to go outside and play. It was an epic butt chewing and while I was scared it would works its way over to me, but fortunately it was all for them. She told her Mom to pack her stuff up and go live with one of her sisters. I sort of felt bad that the wicked witch of the west was going to Nevada to torture one of her other daughters.

I did manage to score my "allowance" back and she even bought me a made in Germany Walther PPK with a stainless slide and black lower in 9mm Kurtz.

But boy was she mad when I was in the PI with her.

Her Mom is supposed to go visit her daughters when Lil is not home and my Father and Mother are not allowed to come over when she is not home.

I almost danced a jig during the butt chewing. The entire family was there too....Dean and his wife, Jeff and his wife, even my brother Gabby was there as was my brother John Paul, with his wife.

All the males said it was an epic butt chewing, and they were glad it was not directed at them and were shocked that the quite Lil could chew butt like that. Things were said among the men, that will remain among us.

Gabby ended up with the Japanese helmet and web gear since I would rather not have anything to do with it. Since it was the stuff that started the whole mess.

I moved the photo albums to my foot locker in the attic (it is secured with a lock) and my sister is still ticked about the photo albums.

I hate it when my Father and Mother claim that they outstanding parents, and Lil knows some of how bad they were. One day I'm going to strip buck naked and have Dean point out the outstanding parental "gifts".

But the problem with that is I have a Japanese irezumi style tattoo on my back from when I was younger. Basically it is a Yakuza tattoo, I like it, Lil likes it or at least she says she does, but it does cause issues when we go to Japan and Korea. I do not go shirtless because you can see the scars on my back, even with the tattoos.
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

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