A to Z Blogging Challenge - Letter A(rmy)

I promise that they won't normally be so long ...

I served in the U.S. Army and twas he second woman assigned to my unit in Germany. Liz was the first, and she arrived in the morning, while I got there in the evening. Cheese worried about us all the time, so you can imagine his panic, when he realized he would have to take two women on Reforger. (Reforger was 10 days, but I got sick with Strep on day 5, and Cheese gratefully sent us home early). These European war games included troops from many nations. Our unit was responsible for repairing electronic equipment, including the very early models of computers. Traditionally, for Reforger, our unit would bring a long trailer that could be hooked up to a generator to provide power, and served as a repair shop. When the guys got tired, they'd move the equipment to the floor and sleep on the work tables.

But now there were two young women, and Cheese wasn't comfortable with that. He wanted to make sure we got field experience, but he also recognized the need to protect us. As the number of women in the Army increased, the number of rapes did, too. Every new duty assignment included a seminar on rape prevention. During Reforger Cheese made sure Liz and I had an armed guard with us whenever we left our area.

  

There was one little problem.

We only found the latrine once in five days. So, you're wondering. What did we do? The guys just wandered off into the woods to do their business. If someone came upon them, it was just another guy, so no big deal. There were very few women out there, and we never saw any others. Unfortunately, wandering out into the wood wasn't an option for Liz and me. We had to wait until dark.

Reforger was held in September...12 hours of daylight.

You can imagine how full a bladder gets in twelve hours. Twelve long hours. Out unit was located deep in the German woods, surrounded by tall, skinny trees. No stars. No moonlight. We could hardly see our hands before our faces as we staggered away from the long trailer trying to find out way with only a little help with our flashlight. We didn't want to draw attention to ourselves by having the light on us broadcasting what we were doing. And flashlights ruin your night vision.

Now let me describe the lame uniforms we had to wear. For one, they were tropical lightweight. Isn't it brilliant to send women, dressed in fabric made for the warm tropics, to freakin' cold Germany? They were also pooly designed (I'm sure they were anticipating that we'd have desk jobs). Whereas a man's uniform included a zipper in the front (go figure), our fatigues had buttons on the sides. It's a little too adventurous for me to have to undo 6 buttons, when you really, really have to go.

Liz and I made our way far enough from the trailers to be sure (kinda) of our privacy, and we split up for some privacy. Remember now, there was no latrine, no raised anything with a seat. Squatting was required. I guess I was in a bigger hurry than Liz, because I'd already assumbed the position, when I heard her scream.

I immediately stood up.

And immediately squatted down again. Um ... you don't shut off the bladder after holding its contents for 12 hours. I called out to Liz, frantic to know if she was okay. She giggled. Seems she'd backed into a tree and thought someone had grabbed her. O_o

I was mortified. We only had four sets of fatigues, and we were scheduled for ten days. Now I'd soiled a quarter of my clothes.

Good thing I can laugh about it now.

What's your most embarrassing moment?

Awkward

I had an opportunity to spend the summer I was sixteen with some family friends, who were stationed on Pearl Harbor in Honolulu. They had a daughter Dotty who was twenty, and we were an interesting pair because she was barely 5' and I was over 5'9".

We went around everywhere together when she wasn't working--and I mean everywhere. In Hawaii you can drink at twenty. Being short, she was always carded. Being tall, I was never carded. Made life simple, especially since I'm not a drinker and wasn't doing anything to get me in trouble (except being in a place where drinking was happening).

One day we were on a double date, and Dotty's guy wanted to go to Tripler Army Medical Center to visit a friend. It was a beautiful Saturday morning, so we were all game. I regularly dated a sailor who happened to be 6'5". He didn't have a car. Dotty did--a Toyota Corolla, two door. Since it was her car, she drove. Obviously my date and I sat in the back seat. So picture my date as he sat in the back seat of this tiny, foreign car with his knees around his ears.

First mistake:

I was in a dress. A short dress. It hadn't been a problem in the past because I'd sit up front with Dotty. But I knew I was in trouble as soon I had to get into the back seat of that itty bitty car. I made it in without flashing but knew there was no way I could get out the same way. With my mind furiously working, I came up with what I was sure would be the perfect solution. My date got out first and came around to hold the door open for me, while Dotty stood behind and to the side watching through the front door car window.

Second mistake:

Gracefully, I turned around and sat on the folded down front driver's seat. See, the plan was to lift my feet from the back seat floor and set them demurely on the asphalt, maintaining my modestly.

Yeah, well life happens while we're making other plans.

What I hadn't counted on was the angry teenaged god of humiliation directing his evil eye right at me. (That's my story anyway, and I'm sticking to it.) As I sat so gracefully sat on the folded seat, it began to tilt and my bum began to slide ... right out the door and onto the hot asphalt. In desperation I tried to swing my feet out to catch myself but, alas, my sandles got caught and my feet went nowhere.

Sitting on the ground, clinging to my skirt, I screamed at Dotty to help me. She and my date, who had been momentarily stunned, immediately burst out laughing. Of course Dotty's date had to see what had happened, and he charged around the car to join the chorus of my mockers.

Fat lot of help they were.

A dismal day.

How about you? Ever been completely embarrassed?