|You know...I could blow up the whole goddamn world with this thing.
||[Feb. 25th, 2008|03:30 pm]
I should have died, and this is why...
A conversation I had earlier with a classmate reminded me of this story from a few years ago.
When I was still working at the boozatorium, one day we started sharing our own ishouldhavedied stories. One of them told me about a buddy of his who was in the National Guard. This is secondhand, so bear with me for any slight inaccuracies. His buddy was in the Artillery division, specifically, the M110 howitzer. For those of you not into military stuff, it is a BIG fucking gun. It fires a 200lb projectile at 2300 feet per second over 18 miles. Suffice to say, this thing could really fuck up your day if you were on the wrong end of it. Or careless. See, his buddy wasn't a bad guy, it's just that the guys who were assigned to his section were unfit to guard the bee, and were constantly finding new ways to screw up. They had already demoted from driving the howitzer to just driving the ammo carrier.
One day, they get back from artillery practice and they're taking inventory of ammunition.
Sarge: How many rounds ya got left?
Pfc Gomer Pyle: 23*.
Sarge: Well, the tally of rounds fired was 26.
PGP: Oh. I meant 24.
Sarge: No, you said 23. *takes count* There's only 23 rounds back there!
Sarge: Where the hell is the other one?!
PGP: I dunno- maybe we left it behind?
Sarge: Maybe? You left it? Behind?
PGP: It's gotta be somewhere out there. Can't we just go get it in the morning? It's getting dark.
The Sarge realizes that he is talking to someone unfit to handle chewing gum, picks up the radio and tells everyone to stop what they're doing and cease all traffic. So they send out the EOD's (explosive ordnance disposal) and the dogs and try and find the missing shell. Sure enough, since it had been improperly secured in the back of the ammo carrier, it was lying right in the middle of the trail, like a speed bump capable of repositing your dental records over the tri-county area.
My old coworker's friend put in his papers for a transfer out the following week.
*Don't remember the exact number, but you get the idea.