Killing Time

Enough bitching about the useless fucked up bullshit that the CoC tries to pass off as an "informative" meeting about redeployment. I have my own useless information to pass along: how the boys kill time during deployment.

During the invasion, as always, I contacted all the parents of my husband's boys and tried to keep them informed about what was going on. They all had my email and phone number and knew to call me if they had questions or needed help with anything. About four months into deployment in June 2003, I get a panicked phone call from one of the boys' stepmothers. The kid's mom had just gotten off the phone with some doctor and was freaking the fuck out. Her son had stepped on a landmine and had gotten hurt and she wanted to know what the hell was going on. She called his stepmother who then called me.

I had heard nothing about this from rear-d or my husband and, wanting to help, started making calls. No one knew anything about it and I'm getting a little pissed off. How the fuck can we have a guy step on a landmine and no one knows anything?!? My husband calls later that evening and I finally get the whole story.

Things were pretty quiet over there and the boys had a bit more down time than they had previously had. It's getting dark and they are getting bored, so they decide that it would be a good idea to get a game of tag going. OK. Whatever. Landmine boy is IT and chasing some other jackass around the corner of a tent, where there happens to be a clothes line strung up. The jackass runs under it, but landmine boy, who is like 6' 5", does not know it's there and didn't duck. He took it across the throat, got thrown to the ground and was knocked the fuck out for around ten minutes, which is why he got sent to the hospital. So I have to call the family and tell them that he didn't step on a landmine; he got "clothes-lined"!!!

But the best one I ever heard is from deployment number three. My husband and a bunch of the guys, bored to tears, decided to have a penis growing contest?? I shit you not. They each purchased a different male enhancement product and began taking/using them to see which would work the best. Before this began, they had to all present their penises for measuring and then had weekly penis checks to measure and record the results. These had to be done with witnesses to prevent any cheating. Who the hell out of sheer boredom decides that it's a good idea to have a room full of men whipping out their dicks and literally measuring them?!? Apparently, my husband. . .

I'm a lucky woman.