Wednesday, July 13, 2011

I left the Guard almost three years ago. Sometimes it feels like yesterday. I want to share a little story that has me feeling pretty satisfied right about now.

Our AMMO shop does this little thing where when someone leaves, they typically get tackled, duct taped to something immobile, covered in whatever filthy contents are in the shop's fridge, and then hosed off.

Exhibit A:

This is pretty timid compared to like, what the Marines or Army do to you, or so I hear. Except when you consider the fact that we once had bear meat in our fridge for over 3 months and no one would claim responsibility for it, so no one would throw it away based on (some abstract) principle.

SO. My previous posts mention a little rivalry I had with one of my supervisors, D. Rab, where he tied my bike to the rafters, etc etc. On my last guard weekend he was one of the primary guys who trapped me, duct taped me to a picnic table, and proceeded to water board me with 8 month old sour cream and salsa and ranch salad dressing.

I attempted to clean up and meet the rest of the gang out for the post-guard-drill obligatory beers in celebration of it being my last ever guard drill. I realized I was one of the last people left in the bomb dump. I realized D. Rab was gone. I realized it was August, a sweltery month in Wisconsin. I realized I had in my possession one soiled BDU uniform covered in rancid condiments.

I marched out to the equipment tent where we keep our gas masks and chem gear in big bags. I stuffed my soiled uniform in with his gas mask and chem gear, knowing he wouldn't discover it for at least 2-3 months, at which point it should have been solidly covered in mold growth and hopefully a great abundance of mice dung or other vermin.

I smiled, because D. Rab is a notorious one-upper. Anything you do to him, he'll do back to you 100-fold. There's no winning with this kind of unreasonable person. You always lose. But this time, I would be long gone, in Washington DC, and there's no possible way he could retaliate. This was so greatly satisfying I really can't even do it justice in words.

Except, i never heard about it. I regularly get texts from my guard people every guard drill weekend. usually some inside joke, or a gossipy update, or some complaining about some ridiculous new regulation. But I never heard one word about my soiled uniform getting discovered. Could it be that he actually found it, and kept it quiet? There was that one time I squirted ketchup and mustard into all of his work glove fingers, and I never heard about him finding that. That was greatly unsatisfying.

After awhile, I gave up, convinced he quietly disposed of it and didn't let anyone in on the fact I got the best of him.

That is, until I got this picture texted to me this past weekend. THREE YEARS after the fact:


But I am not sure what this says about the general maintenance and upkeep of Wisconsin Air National Guard equipment, if D. Rab has not examined his gas mask or chem gear in nearly three years.


FarHome said...

Elizabeth, I just found your blog by accident and I loved this story! I'm a Navy Ordie and I can totally see this happening. Kudos to you on one-upping the one-upper!

Elizabeth said...

Thank you! I still smile a little when I think about his reaction.