One would think that if a person
had shit themselves that they would try to come up with as discreet a way of
disposing of their underwear as possible.
Well, perhaps most people but not everyone. Where there’s some folks that would get out
the bottle of laundry detergent and clean the offending fecal matter off in the
shower and then properly launder said underclothes. That’s what most right thinking people would
do.
Hell, some folks would just do well
of wrapping their shat upon undergarments into a plastic shopping bag and
tossing them in the nearest dumpster. If
I ever crapped myself, I would want to get rid of the evidence as soon as
possible. I wouldn't do it in a manner
that aroused suspicion.
Much to my dismay, I have borne witness
to people soiling themselves and then trying to hide it on more than one occasion.
The first such occasion being when my division was gearing up for what we were
being told was a fairly big personnel inspection. I have no earthly idea why this one was such
a big deal other than the RDC’s told us it was.
That being the case, everyone in the division went into overdrive making
sure everything was as perfect as it could be.
Now, the inspectors come in that day and start looking at everything. No matter what branch of the military you
happen to have been in, you know that you've never felt more scrutinized during
one of these things. I never actually
saw it happen, but if you were told to memorize the heating instructions for a
Hot Pocket; at some point in the inspection somebody would be asked to tell the
inspector how long the box said to keep the damn thing in the microwave before
eating it.
So we’re all standing there and out
of nowhere we hear what could loosely be called a mixture of whispering and
yelling at the same time. None of us
dare to look over. However, our ears do
perk up when we hear somebody say “is under your towel supposed to be where you
stow your dirty laundry”? We finish up
the inspection and after which we ask some of the people near the origination
of the noise what happened. Apparently
one of the guys, whose name was so unpronounceable we just called him Wojo, had
taken a pair of underwear that had seen several better days and hid them under
a towel.
Let me elaborate. To save the embarrassment of taking a pair of
underwear that he may have fouled and put them in for laundry, he just hit them
under a towel. A towel that immediately
looked to the inspectors as if it were out of place. They see the small lump under the towel and
find a pair of shitted up briefs. Boy,
when we heard this we all remembered about how our RDC’s had told us if
anything stupid happened during the inspection we were going to get this shit
beaten out of us.
Getting beat, for those that don’t
know doesn't actually involve getting beaten up as most understand the
definition. What it did mean, is that we
were going to get exercised within an inch of our lives. But we thought that it was just an empty
threat to motivate us. Christ were we
wrong.
About an hour and a half after
eating dinner, one of the RDC’s jumps up and yells at us to push all the bunks
back to the walls. Uh oh. He then instructs somebody to shut all the
windows. This is a building with no air
conditioning. While it was still in a
town north of Chicago, it was still about eighty five degrees that day. For the next hour and a half, we were engaged
in a PT session so intense that condensation was forming on the ceiling and
falling gown upon us. Was literally
raining in the building.
Every single one of us had to do
this, except one…Wojo. His motivation to
never do something stupid like that again was to take his pair of shitted up
underwear, tape them to a broom and hold them in front of his face while
marching around the barracks. I’m not
certain which of us had it worse that day.
The situation was almost like in Full Metal Jacket when Pyle stood there
and ate the doughnut while everyone was doing pushups. Needless to say, he never did it again.
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