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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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Sun Feb 07, 2016 10:34 pm

12_Gauge_Chimp wrote:Just out of curiosity, why were the places on the first sign (up at the very top left corner of the pic ) permanently off limits?

I can understand the temporary places being off limits for the reasons listed on the sign, but why were hospitals, auto repair places and the others listed permanently off limits ?

Hospitals were not clean or up to U.S. Standards, they also had a problem with quality control on their medicine. Which was usually sold without prescriptions. Another words you could get a Korean female from a bar to go to the local pharmacy and buy uppers, downers or pretty much whatever was behind the counter. The problem was a lot of soldiers liked what we called the scosche yellows, some type of an upper to keep you awake and active on long patrols. I did not like them because one time you cold take one and it would work, then the next time you could take six or eight and nothing would happen other than a headache.

We were told that if we ever were injured enough to need to go or be taken to a hospital that we were to crawl back to the base, better to die on the way to the base than to be taken to a local hospital for treatment. They also told us that that if we survived we would face an Article 15 for going there.

Tattoo parlors were also considered to be unsanitary and if you were caught you got an Article 15.


I stuck with the old tried and true method of taking a pinch of instant coffee (from the K or C rats) and putting it between your cheek and gum.

Not sure why the auto hobby shop was off limits, never saw one, but imagine they had them somewhere.

The "turkey farm" was where the Korean Army and sometimes the KATUSAs went to drink and chase females....also that is where you could get dog on a stick for chow.

Most of the places on the top that were permanent were because of health issues.

We were not allowed or supposed to drink the water or eat anything like fresh vegetables because they used "night soil" as fertilizer.
Last edited by Laager on Mon Feb 08, 2016 4:27 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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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by 12_Gauge_Chimp » Mon Feb 08, 2016 3:04 pm

Thanks for the info, Laager.

It all makes a lot more sense to me now.

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Mon Feb 08, 2016 4:30 pm

12_Gauge_Chimp wrote:Thanks for the info, Laager.

It all makes a lot more sense to me now.

No problem, it is a lot different there now....well for the most part. Back then it was or could be considered a third world cesspool. You could actually buy a woman from her parents for the price of a small tractor like vehicle. Indoor plumbing did not exist for the common masses, they had outhouses.

Now days it is a lot more modern and I enjoy visiting when we go there. I do not go farther north than Seoul though, nothing up there for me to see, at least imho.
“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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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by 12_Gauge_Chimp » Mon Feb 08, 2016 4:53 pm

Laager wrote:
12_Gauge_Chimp wrote:Thanks for the info, Laager.

It all makes a lot more sense to me now.

No problem, it is a lot different there now....well for the most part. Back then it was or could be considered a third world cesspool. You could actually buy a woman from her parents for the price of a small tractor like vehicle. Indoor plumbing did not exist for the common masses, they had outhouses.

Now days it is a lot more modern and I enjoy visiting when we go there. I do not go farther north than Seoul though, nothing up there for me to see, at least imho.
I'll probably never set foot in South Korea (I have a real bad fear of flying), so I'll take your word for it, Laager.

The only times I've been out of the US were back in 1989 and again in 1995 when two of my uncles passed away.

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Mad Mike » Mon Feb 08, 2016 5:42 pm

Laager wrote:
12_Gauge_Chimp wrote:Thanks for the info, Laager.

It all makes a lot more sense to me now.

No problem, it is a lot different there now....well for the most part. Back then it was or could be considered a third world cesspool. You could actually buy a woman from her parents for the price of a small tractor like vehicle. Indoor plumbing did not exist for the common masses, they had outhouses.

Now days it is a lot more modern and I enjoy visiting when we go there. I do not go farther north than Seoul though, nothing up there for me to see, at least imho.

Yeah, it used to be like that in Taiwan, but they were supposed to be "servants" of one type or another. :shock:

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Tue Feb 09, 2016 3:11 pm

Mad Mike wrote:
Laager wrote:
12_Gauge_Chimp wrote:Thanks for the info, Laager.

It all makes a lot more sense to me now.

No problem, it is a lot different there now....well for the most part. Back then it was or could be considered a third world cesspool. You could actually buy a woman from her parents for the price of a small tractor like vehicle. Indoor plumbing did not exist for the common masses, they had outhouses.

Now days it is a lot more modern and I enjoy visiting when we go there. I do not go farther north than Seoul though, nothing up there for me to see, at least imho.

Yeah, it used to be like that in Taiwan, but they were supposed to be "servants" of one type or another. :shock:

Same thing in the PI........one of the guys I was over there with bought a wife........still married after 36+ years. It cost him a couple of pigs, some goats and chickens.

Now days if you go to Okinawa, South Korea or the PI you will find either Filipino females or Russian females working the buy me drink bars. Although now the fed.gov calls it human trafficking and pretty much shuts the places down or like they did at Osan AB, they called it spying (Russian females) and put the bars off limits.
“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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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Mon Feb 22, 2016 3:49 pm

We just returned on Friday from a work trip (Lil works, I just hang out at museums and gun stores). I just picked up a really sweet Colt 1911 (Commander) in .45ACP that has been worked over by the Wilson Rogers shop.

Anyway we get back early Friday morning, then at 0900 hrs or so on Saturday I am told that I need to show up at a kid's birthday party. Oh and that we need to bring a bunch of gifts.

Me: Lil why do I have to go?

Lil: Because I said so.

Me: I was planning on going to the range.

Lil: No.

Me: I told you for the last two weeks that I wanted to go to the range on Saturday, when we got back.

Lil: Not going to happen.

Me: What the heck, did his birthday sneak up on him or something? It's not like it doesn't happen every farking year.

Lil: Let's go.

Me: Well I'm putting my foot down. I am not farking going to a four year old's McDonald's birthday party. End of the farking story. I'm not the farking birthday farking fairy.

Bec: Well thank the good Lord for that, because you scare the shit out of kids.

Lil: Shut it and get in the car.

Both Bec and Lil were laughing at me all the way to the store.

Lil: Try not to scare any of the kids.

Bec: Yea, what she said.

Me: Both of you shut it........I'm starting to think that you both have a natural talent for pissing me off. Oh and I'm getting a farking Big Mac meal with a Tea and a Chocolate Sunday. (Doc said lay off the red meat and sweets).

Bec and Lil: Not going to happen......you'll get a Fish Fillet sandwich and water.

Me: You're killing me!!!

At the Birthday party....

Dean: I knew they would make you come as well (laughing).

Me: Let me tell you something brother you're screwed too. Eventually your wife is going to turn into them.

Dean: Darn it.

Bec: Both of you shut up and eat your cake.
Last edited by Laager on Mon Feb 22, 2016 6:41 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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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Mad Mike » Mon Feb 22, 2016 4:05 pm

Laager wrote:We just returned on Friday from a work trip (Lil works, I just hang out at museums and gun stores). I just picked up a really sweet Colt 1911 (Commander) in .45ACP that has been worked over by the Wilson Rogers shop.

Anyway we get back early Friday morning, then at 0900 hrs or so on Saturday I am told that I need to show up at a kid's birthday party. Oh and that we need to bring a bunch of gifts.

Me: Lil why do I have to go?

Lil: Because I said so.

Me: I was planning on going to the range.

Lil: No.

Me: I told you for the last two weeks that I wanted to go to the range on Saturday, when we got back.

Lil: Not going to happen.

Me: What the heck, did his birthday sneak up on him or something? It's not like it doesn't happen every farking year.

Lil: Let's go.

Me: Well I'm putting my foot down. I am not farking going to a four year old's McDonald's birthday party. End of the farking story. I'm not the farking birthday farking fairy.

Bec: Well thank the good Lord for that, because you scare the shit out of kids.

Lil: Shut it and get in the car.

Both Bec and Lil were laughing at me all the way to the store.

Lil: Try not to scare any of the kids.

Bec: Yea, what she said.

Me: Both of you shut it........I'm starting to think that you both have a natural talent for pissing me off. Oh and I'm getting a farking Big Mac meal with a Tea and a Chocolate Sunday. (Doc said lay off the red meat and sweets).

Bec and Lil: Not going to happen......you'll gave a Fish Fillet sandwich and water.

Me: You're killing me!!!

At the Birthday party....

Dean: I knew they would make you come as well (laughing).

Me: Let me tell you something brother you're screwed too. Eventually your wife is going to turn into them.

Dean: Darn it.

Bec: Both of you shut up and eat your cake.

So much for putting your foot down! :clap:

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Mon Feb 22, 2016 6:43 pm

Mad Mike wrote:
Laager wrote:We just returned on Friday from a work trip (Lil works, I just hang out at museums and gun stores). I just picked up a really sweet Colt 1911 (Commander) in .45ACP that has been worked over by the Wilson Rogers shop.

Anyway we get back early Friday morning, then at 0900 hrs or so on Saturday I am told that I need to show up at a kid's birthday party. Oh and that we need to bring a bunch of gifts.

Me: Lil why do I have to go?

Lil: Because I said so.

Me: I was planning on going to the range.

Lil: No.

Me: I told you for the last two weeks that I wanted to go to the range on Saturday, when we got back.

Lil: Not going to happen.

Me: What the heck, did his birthday sneak up on him or something? It's not like it doesn't happen every farking year.

Lil: Let's go.

Me: Well I'm putting my foot down. I am not farking going to a four year old's McDonald's birthday party. End of the farking story. I'm not the farking birthday farking fairy.

Bec: Well thank the good Lord for that, because you scare the shit out of kids.

Lil: Shut it and get in the car.

Both Bec and Lil were laughing at me all the way to the store.

Lil: Try not to scare any of the kids.

Bec: Yea, what she said.

Me: Both of you shut it........I'm starting to think that you both have a natural talent for pissing me off. Oh and I'm getting a farking Big Mac meal with a Tea and a Chocolate Sunday. (Doc said lay off the red meat and sweets).

Bec and Lil: Not going to happen......you'll gave a Fish Fillet sandwich and water.

Me: You're killing me!!!

At the Birthday party....

Dean: I knew they would make you come as well (laughing).

Me: Let me tell you something brother you're screwed too. Eventually your wife is going to turn into them.

Dean: Darn it.

Bec: Both of you shut up and eat your cake.

So much for putting your foot down! :clap:

She told me that I'd loose the other foot if I kept putting my foot down. Some female Airman (when Lil was active duty) asked her how I lost my foot....she said, he told me he was putting his foot down and not going to do something I told him to do.....now he only has one foot and he knows better than to put it down.
“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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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Mon Feb 22, 2016 6:44 pm

I would like to point out that the fish filet sandwich was good and the water was cold.......I did get a nice transformer toy from a happy meal 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.

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by feanor » Sat Mar 26, 2016 12:47 am

Laager, I thought about the book idea. If you do it in a collection of short stories format like we've had the fortune of getting them it would be interesting to get lil's perspective on them, whenever applicable. So your story followed by her version of it, that'd be comedy gold I think.

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by airballrad » Mon Mar 28, 2016 8:49 am

feanor wrote:Laager, I thought about the book idea. If you do it in a collection of short stories format like we've had the fortune of getting them it would be interesting to get lil's perspective on them, whenever applicable. So your story followed by her version of it, that'd be comedy gold I think.
I would pay good American dollars for this.

EDIT: To stay on topic, a story.

I recently had a job interview. To make a good impression, I was naturally well-dressed wearing very nice new dress shoes my wife had bought for me for my birthday. As I was walking down the sidewalk, reviewing in my head all the witty and wise things I would say, the little voice in the back of my mind noted that the cement coming up looked very fresh.

It was! The gentlemen repaving it had gone to lunch and left it unmarked. I was suddenly standing in wet cement in my new shoes. And the interview began in 10 minutes. I rang the doorbell, politely asked for some paper towels, and cleaned the shoes as best I could so as not to track cement across their carpet. I went into the interview, had a good story to tell, had them smiling as I entered and as I left, and it seemed to go well overall. As soon as I was out, I looked up a local shoe repair place, changed, and made a beeline for the shop. The proprietor looked to be in his 70's, shook his head at my story, and told me he'd give me a call when they were ready. I went to get them a few hours later and they were like-new again. He charged me $5 for a shoe shine. :shock:

I haven't heard back about the job yet, but I'll let you know. :rofl:

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by emclean » Mon Mar 28, 2016 8:55 am

feanor wrote:Laager, I thought about the book idea. If you do it in a collection of short stories format like we've had the fortune of getting them it would be interesting to get lil's perspective on them, whenever applicable. So your story followed by her version of it, that'd be comedy gold I think.
from what I have read here, it might be safer to give her top billing.

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by feanor » Mon Mar 28, 2016 11:48 am

emclean wrote: from what I have read here, it might be safer to give her top billing.
Not really our place to talk about his wife like that, adress him directly instead.

Edit: What I mean by that is it's weird quoting each other as that makes it you and me talking about his wife in front of him if you get my meaning. Not quite kosher I think. Not saying you did anything wrong, just that continuing it would be not quite right.
Ah, I don't know, I just imagine coming back to a thread finding two people speculating about my wife, you know?

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Sun Apr 03, 2016 8:23 pm

I had to live through her side of the story quite a few times......well to be honest almost every time...okay probably every time. I'll have to see if I can get her point of view sometime down the road.


Sorry it took so long, but we just returned from a two week working/vacation trip to Japan.

While there (there were four of us on this trip, one of her co-workers and his wife as well as Lil and I), we went to Ocean Expo Park and the Okinawa Churaumi Aquarium.

To say it was packed like sardines in a can is an understatement.

Imagine my surprise when I turned around to move to another display and found my hand squeezing a Japanese female's breast.

The girl immediately said Gomen'nasai (I am sorry) as she stood there with my hand on her breast.

I replied with douzo yoroshiku onegaishimasu (I am pleased to meet you)

Lil: Well are you going to let go of her breast? She then told the girl Watashi no otto o yurushi nasai, kare wa chitaidesu (Please excuse my husband, he's retarded)

When we got back with the other couple, I said Only in Japan would a woman who bumped into a man apologize for him touching her breast. She had nothing to apologize about by the way.

Lil hit me in the back of my head. Here hold these (we were collecting some numbered pages with information about the animals in that section of the aquarium) with both hands and try to stop wandering off.
“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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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by shrapnel » Tue Apr 05, 2016 5:39 am

Vicious cycle in a two person room:

Bitchy lucid patient falls asleep and snores incredibly loudly.

Sweet demented patient hears the snoring and starts narrating the snoring and asking her invisible husband if it's James over there snoring like a dog in the next apartment, and why won't Husband go ask him to be quiet.

Eventually this wakes bitchy lady up, who stops snoring and seethes until demented woman simmers down.

Bitchy lady goes back to sleep and starts snoring again.

Repeat.
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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Tue Apr 05, 2016 8:12 pm

shrapnel wrote:Vicious cycle in a two person room:

Bitchy lucid patient falls asleep and snores incredibly loudly.

Sweet demented patient hears the snoring and starts narrating the snoring and asking her invisible husband if it's James over there snoring like a dog in the next apartment, and why won't Husband go ask him to be quiet.

Eventually this wakes bitchy lady up, who stops snoring and seethes until demented woman simmers down.

Bitchy lady goes back to sleep and starts snoring again.

Repeat.
I have to salute people who have jobs like you do (as well as a few other career fields), I don't think I could do it and admire the people that can.
“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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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by LowKey » Wed Apr 06, 2016 1:31 pm

shrapnel wrote:Vicious cycle in a two person room:

Bitchy lucid patient falls asleep and snores incredibly loudly.

Sweet demented patient hears the snoring and starts narrating the snoring and asking her invisible husband if it's James over there snoring like a dog in the next apartment, and why won't Husband go ask him to be quiet.

Eventually this wakes bitchy lady up, who stops snoring and seethes until demented woman simmers down.

Bitchy lady goes back to sleep and starts snoring again.

Repeat.
This reminds me why I want a classy little silver pill case such as Jubal Harshaw possessed.
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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by ManInBlack316 » Wed Apr 06, 2016 2:41 pm

We'll just say that I work in the records section of a correctional facility, I only have actual contact when they're going out the door for good, but we're the ones who take phone calls and make sure all of the paperwork is correct.

One of our "stations" in the records section is booking inmates in when they come to our facility, we review all of the affidavits and make sure it's all correct and interfaces correctly with all of the systems.
Just booked in a guy today with ten charges of child pornography....

On a lighter note,
Had an affidavit from what must have been an officer that had too much time on his hands. He brings a guy in for disorderly conduct at one of the homeless shelter, guy was drunk and screaming/trying to fight everyone there. Near the end of the affidavit, it reads:
"Subject continued to be belligerent and aggressive, continuing to bother the poor hungry souls just waiting to eat...."

And then there was a couple of weeks ago that a memo went out, no watching videos/movies at work, well duh dude. Turns out that a couple of our staff that were supposed to watching inmates (not my section) were instead watching movies and on Youtube thereby missing the mandatory checks. If found watching movies/videos, it's a 30 day suspension without pay, this is one of the highest disciplines we've ever seen.
Meanwhile, one of my coworkers turns 65 soon, so she keeps telling us that if we want to hit her we're running out of time because when she's 65 it'll be a felony. So another of my coworkers blurts out:
"Pretty sad when I'd get in more trouble for watching Youtube than I would for throat punching you."


Let me know if anyone wants to hear more records stories :crazy:

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Mad Mike » Wed Apr 06, 2016 2:45 pm

ManInBlack316 wrote:We'll just say that I work in the records section of a correctional facility, I only have actual contact when they're going out the door for good, but we're the ones who take phone calls and make sure all of the paperwork is correct.

One of our "stations" in the records section is booking inmates in when they come to our facility, we review all of the affidavits and make sure it's all correct and interfaces correctly with all of the systems.
Just booked in a guy today with ten charges of child pornography....

On a lighter note,
Had an affidavit from what must have been an officer that had too much time on his hands. He brings a guy in for disorderly conduct at one of the homeless shelter, guy was drunk and screaming/trying to fight everyone there. Near the end of the affidavit, it reads:
"Subject continued to be belligerent and aggressive, continuing to bother the poor hungry souls just waiting to eat...."

And then there was a couple of weeks ago that a memo went out, no watching videos/movies at work, well duh dude. Turns out that a couple of our staff that were supposed to watching inmates (not my section) were instead watching movies and on Youtube thereby missing the mandatory checks. If found watching movies/videos, it's a 30 day suspension without pay, this is one of the highest disciplines we've ever seen.
Meanwhile, one of my coworkers turns 65 soon, so she keeps telling us that if we want to hit her we're running out of time because when she's 65 it'll be a felony. So another of my coworkers blurts out:
"Pretty sad when I'd get in more trouble for watching Youtube than I would for throat punching you."


Let me know if anyone wants to hear more records stories :crazy:

Bring em on.... :clap:

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by ManInBlack316 » Wed Apr 06, 2016 3:12 pm

Okay, here's the story of the missing section :clownshoes:

Some of the staff here is tried to contain fires until the fire department gets here; issued oxygen mask, extinguisher, and I believe is actually certified. So the thing about our records section is that while we're the ones making sure all of the paperwork is correct, most of the staff doesn't see us because it all just pops up in the computer.
So one day, a simulated fire drill is initiated in my section, they decide that we don't need to evacuate for the drill because we're all working on stuff so they really don't want to force us all out for an hour. Call goes out on the radio "Simulated fire in records section, please respond"
Ten minutes go by, we see one guy in gear walk past one of the windows in our section...he keeps on walking.
Twenty minutes go by, we see more guys in gear walk by the windows in our section...and keep on walking.
Finally, a little after that, they come up to one of the windows where a desk is at and ask:
"Do you guys know where the records section is at and how we get in?"
:ooh:

Needless to say, most of us here have agreed that in the case of a real fire, we're activating 911 and leaving out the front. We'll call them when we're out in the parking lot. :awesome:

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Fri Apr 15, 2016 12:12 am

Korea....... after spending some time on a hilltop that was called 4P1. We were rotated back for some R&R and were put up in some old Quonset huts each Platoon had two Quonset huts of around 15 soldiers in each.

Anyway we had this one soldier from way, way, way back in the mountains of the Appalachia and was from a long and proud line of moonshiners (Stevens was his last name). Every chance he got he would build a small still and make up a run of moonshine. Sometimes it was flavored (my personal favorite was the Blackberry) sometimes it was not. There's always plenty of wilderness on a military post available for different purposes.

When I had first gotten there he had just finish running up a batch and most of the Platoon's junior enlisted were drunk, the NCO's were off doing whatever it is or was that NCO's did during their off time, like we cared as long as they were not bothering us.

Walker was being actively encouraged to put on a fire breathing show.......not that he was in anyway trained on how to do it. But imho through the luck of the Gods he managed to spew some serious flames out of his mouth.

I watched for awhile and then decided that I would call it a night, hit the shower and then hit my rack since I had just been assigned to the 1/9th (Manchu's Keep up the Fire).

Nothing really happened other than some drunk and hung over soldiers and life went on.....and we went up to the DMZ and pulled some time on 4P1.

Stevens somehow managed to break his leg and was sent back to the main camp for light duty about two months before we came up for some R&R. When we arrived he had a serious stash of Moonshine, even had a nice sized jar of Blackberry flavored which I snatched up right away and then went to get something to eat at the KATUSA snack bar, then headed back to the Quonset hut that my section was assigned to.

I get there to find that they are all pushing for a repeat of Miller's previous fire breathing show. My gut started acting up, no not as in I had to go take a dump, but as in heads up something bad comes this way.

This time there was this PFC who had at one time been a Corporal but had gotten busted back down, he had more TIS (Time in Service) than I did, but I had more TIG (Time In Grade) as a PFC. But he like to through his TIS around and most of the guys would do what he said, and I really did not care much one way or the other, unless he was trying to push me around then I would stand up to him. I can't remember his full last name but it started with a MaC, so everyone called him Mac. The Corporals and other NCO's would usually turn to him first before pushing me into a leadership role.

I got up next to him and told him that I though this was a road that we did not want to go down, and he told me to basically FO...and it did not stand for Forward Observer. So I mentioned it to a few of the guys that usually listened to me, no go at this station, they had to much to drink and some of them had missed the original fire breathing show (of course the legend had grown substantially from what had really happened and no one other than me was interested in vacating the area as fast as possible.

I grabbed my go bag (with my important stuff in it) and my poncho with the liner sewn in and headed back down the hill to the KATUSA snack bar.

Well when I heard the fire trucks and ambulance sirens, I figured something bad had happened.

Who knew you could set a metal building on fire.......and that moonshine was an excellent accelerant (the word Arson was thrown around a lot during the Line of Duty investigation). I learned that an an accelerant is any substance or mixture that "accelerates" the development of fire and that accelerants are usually used to commit acts of arson.

Technically the metal was not actually on fire, but the multiple layers of paint on the inside and outside were flammable as it turns out there were highly flammable as well as all of the wood furniture inside the Q hut, also all of the uniforms and other personal belongings.

No one was seriously injured, Walker managed to get mostly 1st and 2nd degree burns and so did about a dozen more spectators. PFC MaC was soon a PV2, and I had to explain ad nausea as to how it was that I was the only junior enlisted (below the rank of E-4) that was not at the bon fire.

When I told them that my gut told me it was time to take a different road than the one they were on, they wanted to know why I did not go to the Charge of Quarters and report them.

I asked them at what point did they break any of the standing orders and what was I going to report them for? Drinking? Nope that was allowed and encouraged. Lighting something on fire or breathing fire was not against any standing orders, since there was a fire pit outside of the back door of the Q-hut, along with a grill and some wood picnic tables, or at least there was before the fire.

I kept my mouth shut from that point on about my gut telling me anything.......time to play dumb about any thing that was going on that did not directly involve me.

I did start to ask them why it was that there were no Junior NCO's assigned to our Q-huts...they all were assigned to the Senior NCO hut, where there was a bar located inside. Standard procedure was that only Staff Sergeants and Sergeant First Class were assigned to the Senior NCO hut, and the Junior NCOs were split up so that there was an NCO in each hut or tent.

I was told to shut it and move out. So I did....

I heard that after Stevens did his year in Korea he was sent to Fort Wainwright up in Alaska and eventually got caught making moonshine. Reduced in rank and lost some pay as well, but then he was reassigned later on to Fort Polk, Louisiana where I bumped into him some years later and managed to snag a gallon of Blackberry Moonshine.

It's a wonder none of us went blind or ended up dead....I guess he knew what he was doing, I do know it was some potent stuff for sure. A couple of shots or so and that was it for the person drinking it.

I would like to say that the 9th Infantry Regiment is one of the oldest and most decorated active units in the U.S. Army and that of all the units that I was assigned to or served in this was the unit that I was very proud to be a "Manchu".

We worked hard and we played hard.......sometimes to the point where we had more injuries while "playing" that we did while up on the line (DMZ).
“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: 842
Joined: Sun Jun 20, 2010 9:25 pm

Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Tue Apr 19, 2016 1:24 am

I would like to say that this was one of the worst incidents (when fire was involved), right up there with me being told by someone checking out of the barracks (everyone was required to sign in and out of the barracks with their destination, etc.) one night (as Company Charge of Quarters -CQ) to head down the hallway (2nd Platoon was moved from the fourth floor to the 2nd floor and assigned rooms close to the CQ desk, because we encouraged a moron to jump off the roof of the building) tells me there is something odd going on in one of 2nd Platoon's rooms.

It seems that Pvt Waverly and a group of his section mates had smuggled some bottles of hard alcohol into their rooms and after finishing off several bottles, thought it would be a good idea to have a fart lighting competition. Evidently the people in the competition would win the coveted (not sure by whom) title of Blue Dart. Provided they produced a blue flame, the bluer the better.

Evidently when someone ignites the gases produced by farting, the result is often a flame of a blue color.

It seemed that every thing was going fine, as in someone would fart and someone would light it up...and the rest would judge the quality of the flame, length/width of the flame and duration.

As I walked in unannounced, just in time to see:

Pv2 Malcolm light up a butane lighter flame about 6 inches from Waverly's butt as let out a long, loud and slightly wet fart out. I heard the swoosh as the gas hit the flame and went up in a mostly orange with a little blute fireball. I caught a glimpse of it and my Platoon mate's look of amazement.

Honestly I had no idea the flame would be so impressive. Before I could say anything (hey the flame shot out of Waverly's butt was darn impressive.

PFC Willliams yells out that he has to fart........now and he means now.......so Pvt Thomas tells him to let it rip....and fires up his lighter.

Boom.....out shoots this huge blue and yellowish flame......now it is my understanding (having played with plastic gallon milk jugs with gas in them) that once the gas is "cut off" the flame goes out.

The problem as I saw it at the time (and still see it, because of the milk jugs) is that the flame does not tend to stop but follows the trail of gas to its origin, at least in some cases.

As it did this time.....of course it probably would have not as bad if Williams would not have been going "commando",
the fart was not very long in duration, but the end results were amazing (at least from my view point). Right here is where it all starts to go wrong, well let's just say that walking into a room full of men sitting around in their underwear lighting farts is bad enough, but it gets worse.

The only way I can think of describing it was as if his anus was a door way, and for some reason the door chose that moment to give way or burst open, sending a sudden explosion of poop out onto the floor.

The explosion of poop partially extinguished the flame, and but the flame had transferred to not only his pubic hair, but his leg and back hair (the after action report estimated that there was probably a gallon or more splattered on his pants and the floor). The fart lasted a couple of seconds, and when it stopped, his anus or sphincter retracted and sucked the gas (and flame) back towards his butt. Some of fire also burned the heck out of his anus area as well as set fire to his body hair.

Turns out that one of the safety features is to never light farts when not wearing pants. Otherwise, there is a huge chance your pubic hair can and will be set on fire, causing considerable damage to a rather sensitive area which may even have an impact on the ability to have children.

I would like to add that the room already smelled bad due to the smell of the fire farts (from multiple people), and then you had to add in the burnt hair and burnt long pig smell in then throw in a gallon or so of semi liquid poop onto the floor (and of course on to Williams and Thomas as well as some other bystanders who were close by) ......let's just say it smelled really, really bad. Of course Williams could not just stand fast, he had to move around, spraying poop as he tried to put out the flames.

Everyone was transported or escorted to the Post hospital, Williams was subsequently transported to USAF Hospital Wiesbaden and then on to Landstuhl Army Medical Center for his burns.

Their fart lighting days were over before they even started........after the LOD investigation, subsequent Article 15's and whatever other punishments the Chain of Command tossed on them. They had to make an example out of them, before other morons decide to give it a try.

I did not get to go home the next day when I was relieved because I had to write up a report and then talk to everyone in the Brigade chain of command. By the time my head hit the pillow on the next day it was already 2345 and I had to report for duty at 0400. For some odd reason my "number" came up for every holiday for a year.
“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: 842
Joined: Sun Jun 20, 2010 9:25 pm

Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Sat Apr 23, 2016 6:28 pm

The good old days..........


Raining Humvees! Military vehicles plummet in failed US airdrop drill

Published on Apr 21, 2016
COURTESY: U.S Army W.T.F! moments https://www.facebook.com/usawtfm

WARNING: STRONG LANGUAGE



“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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