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There are few places more full of poo poo than the military. Can we post some urban legends here and see how long it takes for someone to insist theyre true. I’ll start. An E-1 was at the PX/NEX and he saw an admiral with a messed up uniform and told him “Excuse me sir but youre disrespecting my uniform.”. The admiral had been waiting for someone to give a poo poo and instantly promoted him to E-5” Its funny because I heard this one when I was in and I sat next to a marine at my first civilian job and within a week she’d told me this story as if she was there first hand. She’d served like 20 years prior too. Of all the transparently stupid stories apparently that has something that stands the test of time. If you get a sunburn thats destruction of government property because the government literally has a deed to your soul.
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Sep 28, 2022 14:42
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Long time ago on Ft Hood, I heard that the 1st CAV CG was doing some big parade inspection. He asked some lowly PFC some questions about a vehicle or some such, the PFC answered everything. Then, the CG asked the same/similar questions of that soldiers squad leader. Mister SSG (the rank keeps changing every time I here the story) is unable to answer any of these questions. Allegedly, the CG removed the PFC rank, the squad leader rank, then swapped them. Simply stating, "Orders will follow."
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Sep 28, 2022 14:58
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I spent a few years at a base in England and the Rendlesham Forest UFO was always a topic of conversation amongst us kids. We had a guy who was so adamant that his room at the Warrior Inn (lodging) at Nellis AFB was haunted, that in the middle of the night he packed his bags and walked the mile or whatever to the lobby to get a new room, and argued about it at callsign night. He's known as Egon.
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Sep 28, 2022 15:29
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.50 caliber legends are great. "The story goes that the Geneva Convention outlaws the use of a .50-caliber machine gun in combat, so American infantrymen are trained for "off-label uses." The legend says that you just can't use the weapon against people but equipment is still fair game, so the Corps/Army teaches grunts to say they were firing at belt buckles or vehicles or anything else that might be near. Another variation of this legend is that the .50-cal round can still kill people if it flies close to their bodies, so that's the goal. Neither are true. What weapons are actually banned by international agreements are chemical weapons, certain incendiary weapons, and cluster munitions, to name a few. The United States keeps stockpiles of all of these. Even if the M2 were illegal, do you think the U.S. would give it up, let alone train troops to use it wrong?"
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Sep 28, 2022 17:56
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Pigsfeet on Rye posted:.50 caliber legends are great. The closest one to what they're thinking of is the Copenhagen Agreement that banned explosive bullets (of less than 1 pound, which was the origin of 37mm as a gun caliber, as the minimum size shell that skirted the terms of the treaty). I already posted the zinger about explosive bolts allegedly shearing off the upperworks of a ship so it wouldn't roll over, in the Ukraine thread, so I'll fall back instead on the notion that someone water-skied behind an aircraft carrier. It's easy to see how that one might get started, all you have to imagine was someone realizing that a carrier went fast enough to pull a skier, and then telling that fact to someone else, and getting telephoned after a few iterations to someone having done it, and then embellished to I Know A Guy Who Knows A Guy Who Saw It.
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Sep 28, 2022 18:07
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Madurai posted:The closest one to what they're thinking of is the Copenhagen Agreement that banned explosive bullets (of less than 1 pound, which was the origin of 37mm as a gun caliber, as the minimum size shell that skirted the terms of the treaty). Even having served in the navy, I never heard of the "expxlosive bolts" one, that's whack. Same with waterskiing behind a ship. They go more than fast enough, but no, it ain't gonna happen. I can remember a guy in A school saying that his dad told him that an aircraft carrier under full steam could kick up a rooster tail wake higher than the flight deck. Too bad it's just not so. (Deployed on the old CV-60)
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Sep 28, 2022 18:44
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The Finnish Defence Force has the legend of "jarru" or "break", stuff that is supposedly added to dessert foods in order to decrease the libido of the conscripts / soldiers. Especially a kind of jelly-like dessert that supposedly has this substance in it. The legend might be as old as the FDF itself, it existed at least as early as WW2.
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Sep 28, 2022 19:05
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Ataxerxes posted:The Finnish Defence Force has the legend of "jarru" or "break", stuff that is supposedly added to dessert foods in order to decrease the libido of the conscripts / soldiers. Especially a kind of jelly-like dessert that supposedly has this substance in it. The legend might be as old as the FDF itself, it existed at least as early as WW2. The US claims that the chow hall adds saltpeter I believe for the same effect.
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Sep 28, 2022 19:23
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I suppose we'd be remiss in not including the Ship vs Lighthouse story, the earliest example of which I can find was in Readers' Digest "Humor In Uniform" column in 1945, but keeps being reinvented evergreen.
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Sep 28, 2022 19:27
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Ataxerxes posted:The Finnish Defence Force has the legend of "jarru" or "break", stuff that is supposedly added to dessert foods in order to decrease the libido of the conscripts / soldiers. Especially a kind of jelly-like dessert that supposedly has this substance in it. The legend might be as old as the FDF itself, it existed at least as early as WW2. Young, dumb and full (WE MEAN FULL) of Cum. Madurai posted:I already posted the zinger about explosive bolts allegedly shearing off the upperworks of a ship so it wouldn't roll over, in the Ukraine thread, so I'll fall back instead on the notion that someone water-skied behind an aircraft carrier. It's easy to see how that one might get started, all you have to imagine was someone realizing that a carrier went fast enough to pull a skier, and then telling that fact to someone else, and getting telephoned after a few iterations to someone having done it, and then embellished to I Know A Guy Who Knows A Guy Who Saw It. Some navy guy named I think Marcus Aurelius was supposed to have done it according to the milhist thread but damned if I can remember anything else about it
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Sep 28, 2022 20:07
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Evidently the "you can't shoot a 50 cal at people" came from WW2 and dumbasses wasting all the quad 50 ammo that was supposed to be used for AA. It was easier to say its a war crime than to explain logistics
PookBear fucked around with this message at 22:07 on Sep 28, 2022 |
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Sep 28, 2022 20:54
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APC crews in the Swedish army would occasionally be told that the turret of the Pbv 302: Was screwed into place and that the gunners had to be careful not to rotate it too many times in either direction. Too many clockwise rotations could fix it it place and too many counter-clockwise rotations could obviously cause it to pop out and fall off.
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Sep 28, 2022 21:13
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Pigsfeet on Rye posted:Even having served in the navy, I never heard of the "expxlosive bolts" one, that's whack. Same with waterskiing behind a ship. They go more than fast enough, but no, it ain't gonna happen. I can remember a guy in A school saying that his dad told him that an aircraft carrier under full steam could kick up a rooster tail wake higher than the flight deck. Too bad it's just not so. (Deployed on the old CV-60) Certainly not an aircraft carrier, but HMS Brave in the 1980s: 
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Sep 28, 2022 21:49
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Godholio posted:Certainly not an aircraft carrier, but HMS Brave in the 1980s: I figure any successful attempt to do that is going to depend on being behind a gas-turbine ship with controllable-pitch screws. Pigsfeet on Rye posted:Even having served in the navy, I never heard of the "expxlosive bolts" one, that's whack. Same with waterskiing behind a ship. They go more than fast enough, but no, it ain't gonna happen. I can remember a guy in A school saying that his dad told him that an aircraft carrier under full steam could kick up a rooster tail wake higher than the flight deck. Too bad it's just not so. (Deployed on the old CV-60) We could get our roostertail up level with our main deck at 31 knots, but again, not a carrier. (CGN-40) Madurai fucked around with this message at 23:06 on Sep 28, 2022 |
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Sep 28, 2022 23:03
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The old USS FORRESTAL was supposedly haunted by multiple ghosts all of them related to the fire in 1967. My dad tells a story of having one help him find a part in a store room.
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Sep 28, 2022 23:55
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If you like ~spooky~ military stories, check out tales_from_the_gridsquare on Instagram. They’re also a frequent host on the less-than-professional-but-still-fun Department of the Dead podcast, which is full of creepy stories that current and former Joes have submitted. Really do wish my GIP spooky season thread would have gotten more interest last year but oh well.
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Sep 29, 2022 00:14
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pantslesswithwolves posted:If you like ~spooky~ military stories, check out tales_from_the_gridsquare on Instagram. They’re also a frequent host on the less-than-professional-but-still-fun Department of the Dead podcast, which is full of creepy stories that current and former Joes have submitted. I love TdtG.
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Sep 29, 2022 00:50
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Madurai posted:I suppose we'd be remiss in not including the Ship vs Lighthouse story, the earliest example of which I can find was in Readers' Digest "Humor In Uniform" column in 1945, but keeps being reinvented evergreen. There is an historical kernel of truth here that a half century of the telephone game could explain: quote:At 0200 hours on 30 May 1906 during radio communication trials carried out in thick fog, [The pre-dreadnought HMS] Montagu was steaming at high speed in the Bristol Channel when she ran into Shutter Rock on the southwest corner of Lundy Island. The force of impact was so great that her foremast was raked forward. The ship settled hard aground, with many holes in her hull, the worst of which was a 91-foot (28 m) long gash in her starboard side.
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Sep 29, 2022 22:37
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Pigsfeet on Rye posted:Even having served in the navy, I never heard of the "expxlosive bolts" one, that's whack. Same with waterskiing behind a ship. They go more than fast enough, but no, it ain't gonna happen. I can remember a guy in A school saying that his dad told him that an aircraft carrier under full steam could kick up a rooster tail wake higher than the flight deck. Too bad it's just not so. (Deployed on the old CV-60) loving dolphins though man. They love that poo poo.
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Sep 30, 2022 11:34
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Okinawa is lousy with ghosts, but besides scaring gate guards they mainly cause problems off base cursing highway construction sites. Except for one house on Kadena, which was so loving haunted it was uninhabitable. The first family went through several months of obviously degrading mental health while complaining the place was haunted, eventually culminating in the apparent murder/suicide of the whole family. Multiple attempts were made to cleanse the house by chaplains and local priests, but everyone that attempted to live there afterwards made the same complaints about haunting and eventually abandoned the place. Nothing about it was more or less fantastic than any other ghost story except that it was a different building the dozen or so times someone pointed it out to me. Pigsfeet on Rye posted:Another variation of this legend is that the .50-cal round can still kill people if it flies close to their bodies, so that's the goal. I definitely had one of the Air Force's elite Admin Snipers explain that this was because his gun barrel had so many twists that the vortex would rip your arms off pantslesswithwolves posted:If you like ~spooky~ military stories, check out tales_from_the_gridsquare on Instagram. They’re also a frequent host on the less-than-professional-but-still-fun Department of the Dead podcast, which is full of creepy stories that current and former Joes have submitted. This rules
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Oct 1, 2022 18:14
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pygmy tyrant posted:Okinawa is lousy with ghosts, but besides scaring gate guards they mainly cause problems off base cursing highway construction sites. Except for one house on Kadena, which was so loving haunted it was uninhabitable. The first family went through several months of obviously degrading mental health while complaining the place was haunted, eventually culminating in the apparent murder/suicide of the whole family. Multiple attempts were made to cleanse the house by chaplains and local priests, but everyone that attempted to live there afterwards made the same complaints about haunting and eventually abandoned the place. Nothing about it was more or less fantastic than any other ghost story except that it was a different building the dozen or so times someone pointed it out to me. love how the urban legends thread has a guy saying that ghosts are real lol
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Oct 1, 2022 18:34
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So has the navy finally gotten rid of their aquaflage uniforms or are people still trying to claim they turn orange in contact with seawater?
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Oct 1, 2022 20:05
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PookBear posted:love how the urban legends thread has a guy saying that ghosts are real lol Why would I post it in this thread if I believed it? I'm just trying to tell the story so it's not super boring. The point is that there was one spooky death house on base that people told the story about, but everyone claimed it was a different house.
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Oct 1, 2022 22:16
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Good time to dig up 50 Foot Ant's SS barracks story.
Burt fucked around with this message at 17:34 on Oct 3, 2022 |
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Oct 1, 2022 22:23
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The red tab dudes are underwater snipers. The actual story is kinda better, they're landing support and stay on the boat during amphibious landings. In WW2 some regular grunts would stay behind and try to pretend they were landing support.
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Oct 2, 2022 00:46
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Grem posted:The red tab dudes are underwater snipers. I recall asking a 0300 Marine with the tabs what they meant. "HIV status. They are all positive."
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Oct 2, 2022 01:48
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Burt posted:Good time to did up 50 Foot Ant's SS barracks story. Man I wish the anti-fun crowd hadn't run him out.
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Oct 2, 2022 17:45
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Godholio posted:Man I wish the anti-fun crowd hadn't run him out. He published a book on Amazon. It’s pretty neat, I dug it. But I remember the first part / few stories were basically his posts. So that may have been part of it too.
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Oct 2, 2022 17:48
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Burt posted:Good time to did up 50 Foot Ant's SS barracks story. I don't know where the original post is, but I have it saved in a text file; is it okay to re-post?
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Oct 2, 2022 21:44
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Ataxerxes posted:The Finnish Defence Force has the legend of "jarru" or "break", stuff that is supposedly added to dessert foods in order to decrease the libido of the conscripts / soldiers. Especially a kind of jelly-like dessert that supposedly has this substance in it. The legend might be as old as the FDF itself, it existed at least as early as WW2. Heard this one a few times in the NZDF. I'm sure this is universal. Always in the eggs too. We have the legend of the Queen's Private. The idea is that if you go 25 years without being promoted, the
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Oct 2, 2022 22:11
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Jaguars! posted:Heard this one a few times in the NZDF. I'm sure this is universal. Always in the eggs too. i've never heard anything like this in the CF, but regardless, why would the queen want to meet some dipshit who couldn't make it past private? it's just so bizarre
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Oct 3, 2022 03:20
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My Spirit Otter posted:i've never heard anything like this in the CF, but regardless, why would the queen want to meet some dipshit who couldn't make it past private? it's just so bizarre I suppose that a career private might have been possible back in the days of Redcoats, fighting in ranks, and smoothbore muskets. Very few European militaries even pretended to have meritocratic elements back then. Not that I'm saying that the Queen's Private was anything other than a cruel joke leveled at a graybeard who never managed to make rank, or had any prospects for a better life outside the Army.
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Oct 3, 2022 03:26
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Farmer Crack-rear end posted:I don't know where the original post is, but I have it saved in a text file; is it okay to re-post? Yes.
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Oct 3, 2022 17:32
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50FA SS Barracks story was one of my early forrays into GiP. poo poo owns.
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Oct 3, 2022 17:57
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bulletsponge13 posted:50FA SS Barracks story was one of my early forrays into GiP. poo poo owns. loving same.
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Oct 3, 2022 18:44
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Those stories are tight F- for not posting first asking later
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Oct 3, 2022 21:18
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Alright, here's the SS barracks story as posted long ago by 50 Foot Ant. Have to break it out into three posts. ----------------- It was about Novemeber 1990, and we were doing operations in the theater. Pulled the vehicles up next to a ridge, set down the mines, and went to bed. Jackson had blown out the NVG's loving around with them earlier in the day (I swear to God he could touch them and they'd break) so we had no night vision. I'm woken up for my turn on guard shift, and I'm leaning against this loving rock thinking about pussy and staring into the night, when I hear it. **skritch skritch skritch** Oh, what the gently caress. A couple days back we were getting shadowed by this sniper, but I was almost positive he was working alone and we got him. But, better safe than sorry. I slither over to the Major and put my hand over his mouth. He wakes up and I whisper "There's someone out there." **cue pebbles sliding** "Get everyone up. Put Jackson and Tanner in the vehicle mounts. quietly" Now the trick is not to whisper. Whispering carries farther. You just speak softly, more an exhale than anything. I move around, and we all wake up, and get on the weapons. 'Ski is pissed off because the scope on the sniper rifle is still hosed up from when he bailed out of the truck the other day. Our loving host unit wouldn't fix it, stupid fuckers. The whole time, something is moving around the perimeter of our little area. Our nerves are a little tight, and we're hoping whoever it is hasn't called back for any reenforcements. The Major bellies over to me, and we can all hear the movement out there. Sounds like 3, maybe four people in a group. "All right, Monkey, you're last. When I give the order to open up, hold off and get your M-203 ready." I nod, and he moves off. "NOW!" We loving open up, concentrating our fire on the north end. Two fifty caliber machineguns, two M-60's, and a bunch of M-16's. I'm holding off, trying to see into the darkness whatever the gently caress it is out there. There's tracers pounding out, and I hear the Major yell "FLARE UP!" PHHHHT! POP! I've got my firing eye closed, and we see movement on the edge. Everyone concentrates and it drops. "Cease fire! Cease fire, goddamn it!" Everyone eases off the trigger and we wait. No more movement. THe Major comes over and tells me: "You and Grue, go out there and check what it was." So me and Grue disarm one of the Claymores and crawl out there. We're looking around, when I put my hand in something squishy. Turn on my flashlight and take one look. "gently caress. Back." Me and Grue slither back in, rearm the CLaymore, and move over to where the Major is. "Well? Is he dead?" "He ain't getting any deader." I tell him. Grue snickers and the Major looks at me odd. "What?" "We just fired off about $5000 to kill a loving three legged dog." OK, so there we were, getting back from training at NTC. My crew had piggybacked with another unit, so we spent all of NTC running all over the place and playing Quick Reaction Force for the unit we were piggy backing with. Jaws and I are getting off the bus, drag down loving tired, and this ugly woman is standing in front of the bus with a six-pack of beer in one hand and an ugly screaming baby in the other. "Get the gently caress out of my way, you're blocking my view for my husband." she snarls, pushing at me. "Chill, lady, just let me get by you." I tell her, rolling my eyes. "Just get the gently caress out of the way, don't make me move you." she tells us both, holding up the 6-pack. Fine. Whatever. We skirt around her, and keep going. Jaws looks at me as we pass into the quad, because I'm chuckling to myself. "What's so loving funny?" he growls. I hold up 2 Budwieser long necks held in my hand. He sees them, looks at me, looks back at the woman, who is now screaming at someone else to move. "You didn't." "Goddamn right I did." I handed one to him and cracked mine open. Stolen beer tastes sweet. ------------------------------------ I stepped off the bus into three loving feet of snow. I was the only one on the bus, and the driver had laughed viciously when he slammed the door to the bus and roared off in a cloud of deisel fumes. The building I was looking at was old, white, and covered with snow. It looked vaugely familiar, and there was a path carved through the snow, which went from 3 feet where I was standing, to over my head. Holy Christ, what did I get myself into? BOOM BOOM BOOM! Three rapidfire explosions that shake the trees and cause flakes of snow to drift down from their nearly bare branches. I look around, but no sign where it came from. Sighing, I grabbed my duffle out of the snow and headed through the carved snow channel to the building. WHile I was walking there was another set of explosions. That would explain why all the snow was on the ground but the branches of the trees were bare. Inside the building wasn't much warmer, but at least Class-A's were warm. I had on my nice shiney E-2 rank, awarded for excellence during training at AIT, and was all giddy and proud of myself. It took awhile of wandering around, but I found a woman, who offered to call my unit and have them send someone down to get me. She tells them I'll be in the cantina in the building, and then shows me where it is. She comments on my wedding ring, tells me that post housing is at a premium, and the nearest town is a little over 4 miles from post. Great, I'm in Sleepy loving Hollow. No biggee, I joined up to avoid a nightly rear end pounding in jail. Not to say I wasn't going to join anyway, it's just I ended up in the custody of the US Army a bit earlier than planned. So I'm sitting there eating nacho's and drinking soda when the guy shows up. He looks poo poo-rear end miserable, wearing Mickey-Mouse boots, a loving parka, and cold weather trousers. "You MOnkey?" he asks, moving over to the radiator and standing over it. "Yes. You from the unit?" "Yup. Finish your nacho's." he tells me, then goes over and orders a beer. He sits down across from me, cracks open the beer, takes a long pull off of it and then belches. "Who'd you piss off to end up here?" he asks me. "Nobody. I was actually assigned here after AIT. Everyone else going to Germany had orders for 21st Replacement, I had orders for here." I told him. "Why? What's so bad except the snow?" "Counting you, and me, the unit total now sits at 18 people." he grunts. "You had to piss off someone." "Eighteen? As in ten plus 8?" The thought boggles my mind. "YEah. The other two hundred are supposed to be along in the next few months. You think that's hosed up, wait till you see our barracks." He finishes off the beer, snags a couple of my last nachos, then stands up and buttons his parka. "Let's go, kid." I catch his rank when he grabs his cold weather cap off the table. E-4, but he looks about nine thousand years old. I silently follow him outside and into a Chevy Blazer, which he fires up, and we pull out in the streets. "It gets cold her about August, there's usually snow on the ground by late September, and it stays till about March or April, from what I've heard from guys who have been here." he tells me. "Most of the buildings were built by the Nazi's in World War II, for example, our barracks were built in the 1930's and refurbished last month. Here, let's grab your TA-50 so you have your cold weather gear, I don't want you to freeze to death in the middle of the night." I nod, follow him in, and we roust a German guy reading a porn mag to give me my equipment. He doesn't make me sign anything, doesn't even have a list, he just hands me all this poo poo, and waves us out the door. "Don't they keep accountability?" I ask, throwing the second dufflebag full of gear into the back of the CUC-V. "Why? Nobody gives a poo poo about us or this place. DoD couldn't give a poo poo less what we do out here. You can literally murder someone out here, and maybe, jsut maybe, Stuttgart will give a poo poo enough to send someone to investigate if its an officer. If it's winter, it's chalked up to cabin fever. Hell, last week the engineer company lost two guys, nobody knows where they went, but since no vehicles are missing and they left their cold weather gear behind, we fiugure they are dead. We'll probably find them in the summer." Oh Lord Jesus, where did I end up? We've been driving for a good 25 minutes, left post, and are on the range roads. We pass a corner that warns that in the last year 22 troops have been killed by taking the corner too fast. Given the way the CUC-V leans when we take the corner, it doesn't surprise me. Finally, we pull up to a three story white building. It's starting to get dark. Only a handful of lights are on. We go inside, and I notice that it's warm in there. The first time since I left Frankfurt. "Hey, Carter, this is Private Monkey, he needs a room and some linen." the guy says, and the Specialist behind the desk opens a box on the wall, pulls out a key, while the PFC opens a closet and grabs a sheet set, two wool blankets, and a pillow. They hand it all to me, then go back to watching some loving show on the little TV. My guide walks me upstairs, and down to the second half of the building, through the double doors. He stops to look around and shivers. "There is only you in the whole section. Some of us sleep in the day room for comfort." he tells me, pointing at my door. "Why?" I ask, unlocking it and pushing it open. It smells of paint and sawdust, and something else. Something that gives me goose bumps. "You'll see." He digs in his parka and pulls out a bottle of tequila and hands it to me. "Stay warm, kid. WHen you wake up, go ahead and come down to the day room. I think we got an officer today, but right now, we don't have formation or anything like that." I nodd dumbly, completely confused. This is the Army? This is Regular Army? THIS is Active Duty? What. The. gently caress? The door slams, and suddenly it feels like the room has gone shadowed despite the fact that light was on. OK, shower/bathroom to my left, lockers to my right. Short "hallway" exactly as long as the embedded wall lockers were long. Fairly large room, with a radiator, refrigerator, two desks, two dressers, and 2 sets of bunk beds. I walked over, turned on the radiator, and listened to the clanking and thumping and other noises that radiators made. Looking out the window, I can see fencing with rolls of razor wire on top and guard towers. Empty. NOthing in the huge lot, no movement in the towers. Turning away from the window, I draw the curtains to help the room warm, and begin putting my stuff away. Everyone else in my AIT was sent to places like Umatilla, Black Briar Creek, Red Stone Arsenal, Johnston Atoll. I was sent to a loving place that doesn't even have a goddamn name that wasn't even up to full strength. I began to suspect that the (ReA) after the unit name meant "ReActivated" since we may or may not have an officer. I jerked off in the shower thinking of my wife, and went to bed. It was cold, but I was used to that from Juvie. I woke up shivering, cold as poo poo under my blankets. There was someone in my room, I could feel their presence. I didn't move, didn't open my eyes, trying to focus on the person. I'd learned the trick in Juvie. I kept my breathing the same, but the air was ice cold and made me cough and sit up. My room was pitch black, and freezing cold. I swung off the top bunk, and when my feets hit the floor, the floor actually had loving ICE on it. What the gently caress? I stumbled over, still positive someone was in the room with me, and fumbled for the light switch. I wasn't anyone's punk, if there was someone in her with a hard dick in their hand, I was going to bust open their skull. My room was empty, but there was frost above where my head had been, and there was frost on the floor. I could still feel someone watching me, and whoever it was loving hated me. Cold, and completely un-nerved, I gathered up my blankets and grabbed my key, and left my room. The hallway was dark and cold, and I was in my socks and wollen long johns. My breath plumed out in front of me in the light of the few lights that were on, and I walked the length of the hallway, pushing through the double doors, and eventually went down the stairs. Not all the way down, there was another landing below, but a hand painted sign said: "DAY ROOM/CQ AREA" on the second floor landing. I pushed through the door, and found myself in the same room I'd originally entered the building through. The Specialist was leaned back in a chair, dozing, and the PFC was reading a book. I could hear snoring from another room, and dragging my blanket, I went in there. There was 15 people in the room, all of them huddled up in chairs, their blankets wrapped around them. I dropped my poo poo in an empty chair, and went back into the CQ area. "Hey, why's it so cold?" I asked the PFC. He looked up and then looked around. "The furnace went out." "Why the gently caress did the furnace go out?" "Nobody's loaded coal in it since earlier today." "WHy the gently caress not?" I asked. He smiled, like he knew a secret. He reached up and grabbed a key, and came up to the desk. Taking a piece of paper, he sketched what I figured was a map to building. "OK, we're right here. Go down that hall, through the double doors, go through the first door on your left, go down the stairs and exit the stairwell. There will be two doors on your left, mailboxes and a single door on your right. Go through the first door on your left, use that key, go all the way to the back of that room, and you'll find the furnace and a mound of coal with a shovel in it. Open the furnace, load up the coal, and use the can of gasoline to wet down the coal and light it up. Then come back." He pointed everything out on my map, and I suddenly realized he was talking a coal furnace. What the gently caress? I'm familiar with them, the house my father owned on the West Coast had a coal furnace. I nodded, he handed me a key and a flashlight, then went back to his book. Grumbling, I went back upstairs to my room, dressed, grabbed gloves, and went back down to the CQ area. I didn't say anything, but I was positive that there was still someone in my room. The hair on the back of my neck wouldn't stay down. So, I followed his directions to the bottom floor. I noticed one thing he'd forgotten to tell me. There was a door that would lead outside, but it was locked and chained shut, and the chain was fairly new. Curious, I unlocked the door, and swung it open. HOLY poo poo! A bare dirt floor and an unfinished cieling stretched out into the darkness. I could smell interesting smells, and could hear a heavy, labored breathing noise in the darkness. The goosebumps and heebie jeebies that had faded while I'd walked through the building came back in force. I was glad I was fully dressed. I stepped into the room, onto the dirt floor, and walked into the darkness. I passed the source of the heavy breathing, and turned to look for it. An old electric water heater sat there, massive and ominous in the puddle of illumination from the flashlight. I could see where pipe fittings were leaking steam, making the wheezing, heavy sound of breathing. The air wasn't warm or moist, it was still cold, and I could see the glitter of frost on the walls around the loose pipe joints. I wasn't in the Army. There was no way this could be the 80's Army. Somehow, I'd ended up in the 1950's. I heard a skittering behind me, and whirled around, flashlight held close, and a pair of beady eyes glared at me from the darkness. I felt the cold shiver run down my back, and realized that I didn't belong down here. That something down here didn't like us. Didn't want us in the building. It or They wanted us gone, wanted us to leave. Or wanted us to die. The eyes suddenly moved forward, revealing itself to be a huge rat, easily as long as my forearm with it's long tail. It rushed me, mouth open and eyes bright. "gently caress YOU!" I yelled, took a step forward, and kicked that big ugly motherfucker back into the darkness. I made a crunching sound and aborted shriek. I backed up, slowly, not fully in possession of my faculties, not even aware I was backing away from the door I so wanted to escape out of. When my back hit the far wall, and the shovel against the wall fell on the dirt, I screamed. I'd discovered in Basic Training and AIT that my voice carried. This time, however, a yell that could have been heard across an FTX firefight just fell flat, without even an echo. I was nearly bald, but my hair was standing straight up. I could hear crunching sounds out in the darkness, and my fertile imagination conjured up ghouls pushing up from the dirt, gnawing on bones of past interlopers. Spinning around, I saw an honest to god kerosene lamp. My hands shaking, I clipped the flashlight to my chest pocket and fumbled through lighting the lantern. I had my back to that cavernous room, and I was nearly sobbing with the knowledge that things we closing in on me. Things that wanted sweet, warm, flesh to gnaw. The lantern provided a dim bubble of warm light, and I could see the glint of metal off to my right. Sure as poo poo, it was furnace. That did nothing to ease my feelings though. The furnace was BIG, it was BLACK, and an old Nazi insignia was visible above the furnace door. The sight of it made my blood run cold. My imagination supplied screams coming from the furnace as I stared at it. It wasn't a furnace, it was huge, black beast, lying dormant, that demanded living sacrifices to be fed into its maw. "gently caress that. It's a goddamn furnace, this is a loving basement, and this place is a poo poo hole." I growled up, feeling anger well up to replace my fear. I was goddamn soldier, a killer Uncle Sam had ordered forged in order to kill motherfuckers. I wasn't going to be afraid of a loving furnace, an ugly dead rat, and some goddamn darkness. I pulled open the door to the furnace, located the coal pile, and began shovelling coal into the furnance, just like that fuckhead PFC who'd sent me down her for a laugh at my expense, had told me to do. I poured gasoline on the coal, and lit it up, then located the feed chute and loaded it. It came as no suprise that the feed-chute was full of cobwebs. These guys had been just shoveling coal onto the grate and lighting it up. As a final "gently caress you" I took the shovel and knocked the Nazi emblem off the loving furnance. gently caress those dead motherfuckers. Holding the lantern, I walked the length of the basement, ignoring the little noises. That breathing? The hot water heater. That gnawing noise? Mr. Ugly Rats relatives feasting on his corpse. Those footsteps behind me? Echoes. Wait. What? I stopped suddenly, and heard the footsteps continue on for another step or two. I will not look behind me. I will not run. Monsters are not real. I will not run. I will not look behind me. Monsters are no gently caress IT! RUN FOR YOUR LIFE! I hit the door, kicked it open like it was a movie, and slammed out into the hallway. I pushed the door shut and held it, shaking and sweating. As I was locking it, I heard a tapping noise, but refused to open it. "Cocksuckers. Hope they like it in there." I growled. I blew out the lantern and set it by the door, then retraced my steps back to the CQ area. I glanced in, but counted fifteen people, still sleeping. The Specialist was there, still dozing, but the PFC was missing. Good, fucker won't freeze to death, but let him stay down there till morning, the loving prick. "Dude, you're back!" I heard from behind me. I jumped, and spun around. The bathroom door was closing, and the PFC stood in front of me. "drat, you were gone almost an hour. I was starting to think we'd have to mount a rescue mission for you. DId you go in?" "Yeah. I reloaded the coal, the radiators should start heating up any time." It was starting to dawn on me. Nobody had been playing jokes, nobody had been loving with me. "Nice work, Private. In the last two months, nobody has managed to do it, and most of us won't even go in there." the PFC told me. I nodded dumbly. "So it wasn't my imagination?" I asked. "No." he told me, then leaned in close. "These barracks, gently caress, this whole post, is haunted." I felt a chill run up my back. Welcome to Germany, PV2 Monkey. You ain't seen nothing yet. "GET THE gently caress UP! ALL OF YOU! ON YOUR loving FEET! WHAT THE gently caress ARE YOU DOING STILL SLEEPING? WHY AREN'T YOU IN YOUR ROOMS!" The screaming woke me up. My neck hurt from sleeping in the chair, and I was still jet-lagged. I'd been dreaming of being trapped in a large dark space with something breathing heavily behind me no matter which way I turned. I was glad I was woken, but the big mouthed fucker yelling was going to get a beat-down. While all of that was shambling through my exhausted mind, I'd already lept to my feet and to attention. My bleary vision settled on a man in BDU's, with the gold bar of an LT on his lapel. He was pissed, kicking chairs and rousing everyone. I'd fallen asleep in my uniform, still coated in coal dust, and my boots dusty from the dirt floor and gritty from the coal dust. My eyes were gritty and I was bone deep tired. "THIS IS THE GODDAMN US ARMY, NOT A loving DAY CARE! NOW GET UP!" He managed to yell and bully us into a formation four wide and four deep. Glaring, he stood in front of us at parade rest. "You guys are the sorriest looking fuckers I've ever seen. Whose the ranking NCO?" we all looked around. "I am, sir." A guy with grey hair said, stepping forward. Oh God, all he had on his collar was Corporal. Everyone around me was specialists, PFC's, and me. "Whose the officer in charge of this cluster gently caress of morons?" he asked. "You are, sir." the corporal said. I repressed a grin at his expression. "You, Private Monkey, go wake everyone else up. I want a formation outside in twenty minutes." I noticed his uniform was pressed and starched, and his boots reflected his uniform. "Sir, this is everyone else." The corporal said, grabbing my arm before I could take a step. "This is the entire unit. We sleep in here for warmth." The LT looked like he was about to explode. He turned and stomped off, and we all looked at each other. Everyone introduced themselves to me. Out of everyone there, I was the only person who hadn't been sent here from another unit, who hadn't been busted at least once, and hadn't served at least 2 years in the military. The only explanation we could figure out for me being sent there was the fact I had been transported to Basic Training in handcuffs. We all seperated and returned to our rooms to get changed and dressed. I took a shower, the water was hot and warm, and the soap washed away the lingering feelings from the night before. I took about my iron and ironed my uniform on the desk, putting a damp towel between the desk top and my uniform, so that it came out looking good. A quick bit of work, and my extra pair of boots were shined and ready. I shaved quickly, and headed back down to the dayroom. Everyone was standing there in uniform, and the LT looked pissed. He was turning away from the bank of about a dozen phones on the CQ barrier. "Why do those clocks have different times?" He sneered. "The first is local time, the second is Zulu, the third is synched with the Pentagon, and the last is synched with NORAD, sir." A woman answered. She was E-3, and had a leg brace on. I noticed her titties filled her BDU blouse. "Who ordered that bullshit?" The LT snarled. "Sir, that was in the orders packet that we opened upon arriving here." The female, Stokes, answered. "WHAT OPERATIONS PACKET?!?" he screamed. Great, this rear end-monkey thought screaming meant good leadership. "Carter, grab the Op-Orders!" A guy, Mann, yelled. The CQ came into the room, holding a thick manila envelope. "Why wasn't I handed this already?" The LT asked. I could tell this guy was going to be a problem. "You didn't check in last night, LT, and had not asked for it this morning." Carter answered. The LT tore the envelope out of Carter's hand and walked out, pulling a ring of keys from his pocket. "poo poo, this guy's going to be a problem." Mann grumbled. He pulled a pack of Camels out of his pocket and lit one. I went and bought a soda. I was down to less than $5 in my wallet, and I doubted that the vending machines would honor traveller's checks. I came back to everyone trying to figure out what kind of rear end in a top hat this LT was going to be. The door blew open, cold air rolling over all of us. Standing in the doorway was a guy wearing Mickey-Mouse boots, arctic firing mittens, a cold weather mask, a cold weather cap, a pair of cold weather trousers, and a parka with the full lined hood pulled over his head. He had a box, sealed with apair of metal bands, in his hands. He set the box on the table, and pulled off his mask. "Fifth Corps sent these here. This is 2/19th Special Weapons, right?" he asked. "Whose loving asking?" The PFC behind the desk snarled. The guy laughed. "Good answer. Good OPSEC. Wanna sign for these?" "Mason, go find the LT!" The PFC yelled. A guy with no rank on his collar, but the darker squares of sew-on rank on his bare collar showing he had once been higher ranking, nodded and went into the stairwell. "drat, you guys are out in the middle of loving nowhere." the guy bitched. He bummed a smoke off of Mann. "The goddamn main post doesn't even know where the gently caress you guys are, and all the maps say is 'restricted area' for this area. Goddamn Cold War bullshit." (I'd become very familiar with that phrase over the years.) "Why wasn't I notified you were on your way, soldier?" The LT yelled as he came out of the stairwell. The guy's face went from easy going bitching to hard as the goddamn ice that coated the windows. "Well, why wasn't I notified, and you better answer, I'm an officer." (I've never forgotten that phrase) The guy turned around and pulled back the hood of the parka. On his cap sat a single gold oakleaf. "So am I. And I don't answer to you, Leiutenant." He looked positively pissed, and the LT went white. "Sign for this poo poo so I can get off this goddamn rock and back to some semblance of civilization." The LT stammered through apologies and fawningly signed the clipboard. The Major kicked the box across the floor, and left through the two sets of double doors. It was then that the arrangement made sense. 2 sets of double doors acted as an airlock, keeping out the worst of the cold. It was also snowing outside. "Don't just stand there! Someone carry this down to my office!" the LT screamed at us. I shrugged, grabbed the box, and hefted it. It was pretty heavy, but I've always been stronger than my size made someone believe. I followed the LT downstairs, and for some unknown reason I was suddenly afraid that the room beyond the stairwell door would be bare dirt. I breathed a sigh of relief when lightbulb lit tile and cinderblock came into view. There was one door on my left, mailboxes on my right, a counter with a gap in it, and a chained shut door that the window was stark white. So were the full flown windows to the right. That meant that the snow was over the doorway. Holy gently caress. We went past a door behind the mailboxes, and to three doors. One recently painted "1SG" the other painted "XO" and the one the LT led me through was "CO". Inside the lights were on, and the desk was piled with what I assumed was the contents of the manila envelope. "Set it there, private, then go stand at parade rest over there in case I need you." he said, going over and sitting behind the desk. I let my mind drift as I stood there while he first popped the banding off and then began going through the stacks of papers. I saw him pull out maps, typewritten orders, and more packets. He was grunting at various things, but I tuned him out. My legs started to hurt, and my knees were aching. THe LT left and came back with a sandwich. Fucker didn't offer me poo poo, I just stood there, until finally he looked up. "Go get everyone else, tell them to form up out front of the building." Out front? In the snow? Was he loving high? I snapped to attention, pulled a left face, and got the gently caress out of there. Everyone was sitting in the day room smoking cigarettes and drinking soda. Stokes had opened up her leg brace and was rubbing her knee and sighing. "LT Greer wants us to form up outside." I said. "Oh you have to be loving kidding!" Another private, Cobb, snarled. I turned around and looked outside. It was bare white and you couldn't even see the steps off of the porch. "That's what he said." I answered. "He said to form up in the lot across the street." Grumbling, we went to our rooms and put on our cold weather gear. When I returned to the CQ area, everyone else but Stokes was already there. Private Cobb had a coil of 550 cord in his hands. "All right, we'll all take a cut of that one," he said, pointing at the other coil of 550 cord, "Tie it to your parka belt, then loop it over this one. I checked, you can't see farther than a foot or two out there. Stokes will hold the barracks end, I'll be on the far end. As soon as the LT comes out there, we should be able to go in." I just nodded dumbly. These guys and girls all knew better than me. I followed instructions, and was the fifth out the door. Cobb hadn't been kidding. I drat near fell down the steps, and couldn't see my hand if I stretched it out in front of my face. It was only 1600, and it was nearly dark, with the wind howling around us. I must have died on the bus and now I'm in Hell. I felt the person behind me grab onto my back, and I reached back and grabbed his hand. We'd hold four people to a line, and hopefully get four lines. I bumped into the guy in front of me, and I stepped up next to him, my shoulder against his. Closer than any other formation I'd ever been in. "TEN MINUTES!" the guy next me yelled. "OK!" I yelled back, then turned to my right. "TEN MINUTES!" "Roger!" the other guy yelled back. He was still holding my hand tightly. I reached out and grabbed the guy on my left's hand, and he squeezed. It was freezing loving cold, the wind was prying through the holes in the cold weather mask, and my ears and the tip of my nose were starting to hurt. "FIVE MINUTES!" was yelled to me, and I yelled it down the line. Where the gently caress was LT? What kind of mad-man was he to send us out in this poo poo? If weren't tied together, we'd be spread all over and lost in the white-out. gently caress, if we weren't holding hands, we'd be all alone in the whiteness. "gently caress THIS! EVERYONE BACK IN!" the guy on my left yelled. I passed it up, and soon I felt the guy on my right pulling me forward. I stumbled on the steps, and we went inside. We were covered with snow, and we all had ice on cold weather masks. "Where's the LT?" Cobb asked. "RIGHT HERE! WHY AREN"T YOU FUCKERS IN FORMATION? ARE YOU AFRAID OF SOME SNOW?" came the screaming from the stairwell. "Sir, look outside. For the love of God, that's a blizzard!" Said another guy. I couldn't see his name. "Did your recruiter promise you that you only had to work in the summer? GET YOUR ASSES OUTSIDE, GODDAMMIT!" he yelled. "AND WHAT THE gently caress IS THIS ROPE poo poo?" "Blizzard security measures, to make sure nobody gets lost." Cobb said. "That's an old wives tale. You losers better be outside in five minutes, if I have to come out and get you, there will be hell to pay!" the LT screamed, throwing open the doors and pushing his way outside. Cobb lit up a cigarette, and offered me one. I took it, even though I didn't smoke, and looked around. "Tell me he didn't just go outside without a teather." Stokes said, shaking her head. "Aren't we going to formation?" I asked, looking around. Everyone was taking off their cold weather gear and rolling it up so they could sit on the floor on it. "Don't worry, Private Monkey." After about a half hour, people began wandering off, talking and chatting. Stokes was holding hands with Cobb, and they walked down the hallway together. I walked over to Mann. "What happens now, Mann?" I asked, pointing at the door. "Don't we try to rescue him?" "In a November blizzard? At night? Look, Private Monkey, he went out there in a field jacket and winter BDU's, no protective gear." Mann told me. "He's already dead, isn't he?" I asked. "Yup." Mann said, moving around behind the desk. "You've got CQ tonight, tomorrow morning, we'll call Fifth Corps and let them know they lost an officer." I stared at the doorway. I later found out that none of that snow stayed on the ground, the winds whipped it around and later dumped it further down the mountain. We were too high up for too much to stay. We found the officer that summer. Everyone was asleep in the day room. Mann had given up trying to get TV reception through the snow and was reading a porn mag. We were passing a bottle of whiskey back and forth and sipping off it now and then. There would be an eerie moaning down the hallways and behind the stairwell doors. The front outer doors would shake now and then, and my imagination always painted the LT, his skin white and waxy, pawing at the door with frozen hands. It had been over six hours since he had left. The fact he hadn't returned didn't seem to bother anyone, and I'd be goddamned if I was going to show that it bothered me. I jumped at a loud howling noise echoing down the hallway. "Relax, Monkey, it's just the wind." Mann said, closing the porn mag and setting it on the counter. "Why didn't we call in a search and rescue?" I asked, pointing at the large bank of phones. There were over 12 of them, all them plugged in with big old-style sockets. "Only one of those works, and that's to an office at Corps. Right now, nobody is there because we aren't operational." Mann told me. Another moan drifted down the hallway and I shivered. Down the hallway, the lights flickered, and some stayed off. Mann looked down the hallway: "I hate this loving place." he grumbled. "We'll call Fifth Corps tomorrow and let them know we're down an LT." he saw me shiver again as a full blown shriek roared down the stairwell. "Look, just follow Cobb's advice, Private Monkey, he used to be an actic environment trainer before he got busted for selling crack." I nodded. Mann went back to reading his porn mag, and I began going through the drawers looking for something to read. I found the CQ logbook, and began reading it. There was only 2 months worth the enteries there. Apparerntly Cobb had been here, by himself, with just the construction workers coming in during the day, for nearly a month. The log held records of screaming, and a few times of hearing sobbing coming from the third floor bathroom. About a week into it, Cobb had stopped walking a patrol of the upper floors. The Eighteen of us had only arrived in the last month. I was the first new person besides the LT to arrive in a week. They'd logged when I'd arrived, that I'd recieved my initial TA-50 issue, and had recieved linen and been placed in my room. Mann had logged that the LT had gone outside, without protective gear, into a blizzard despite being warned, and had not returned after one hour and was presumed dead. He wasn't the only one. Apparently an E-5 had gotten drunk and had gone outside, and had not returned. He too was presumed dead. *BANG BANG BANG* The noise came from upstairs, right above us. I jumped, and Mann jumped too. I didn't feel so bad. "What the gently caress was that?" I asked. "We don't know." Mann admitted. "It happens now and then. gently caress, I hope your not a chickenshit, Monkey." Mann unlocked a desk drawer and pulled out two M1911A1 Colt .45's in holsters. "Put this on, son." Mann told me. Man looked to be in his mid-30's, and I responded by nodding and copying the way he belted it on. "Why are we..." Mann shushed me. I opened my mouth to ask why, and a loud shriek came boiling down the stairwell and out of the vents. Following it was a sound like a woman sobbing loudly. The hair on my neck stood up. Mann handed me a flashlight, and I saw the day to the day room shut, and heard the click of the lock. My whole body was covered by goosebumps, hell, I had goosebumps on my balls, and my rear end in a top hat felt like it was puckered shut. The sobbing sound was overlaid with shrieks. *BANG BANG BANG* Mann was grinning, but it was sickly looking. His face was pale. "It's one of those nights." He said. I pretended not to notice the tremor in his voice. I heard what sounded like doors opening and slamming from upstairs, and another shriek came ripping down the hallway. Then, like it was a loving movie or something, the lights shut out one after another, marching down the hallway toward us, and then the lights in the CQ area cut out. I could hear footsteps above us, and suddenly the emergency lighting kicked in. Red light spilled out from above me, painting me and Mann like brutalized corpses. "Thank God." Mann breathed. I looked at him. "Last time they didn't cut on. Want to see something trippy?" Our breath was visible in the red light. I nodded, and he turned on a flashlight and stood up. "Check it out, fully charged, right?" I nodded. I'd seen him open the package of OD green batteries and put them in less than twenty minutes ago. He got up, walked around the counter, and opened the doors to the hallway. COld wind slapped me in the face, somewhere the wind was getting into the building unhindered. Mann slid the flashlight down the hallway, the spinning beam looking surreal. He let go of the doors and ran back to me. "Watch the light." he told me. I nodded silently, my mouth dry. Above us, it sounded like someone was stomping around in boots. There was another shriek, this one through the floor vents. The light stayed nice, bright, and white, and I was just about to ask why we were watching a flashlight beam when it happened. THe beam dimmed, then came back, then it flickered, then it came back. Suddenly it dropped to extremely dim, stayed that way for moment, then went out. It flickered back on, then slowly dimmed away. "Trippy, ain't it?" Mann asked me. "That's why Cobb quit doing the rounds, and why we don't do them either. You never know when it's going to happen." His face was painted surreal by the red emergency lights. We sat there in silence, looking at each other once in awhile when a shriek was particularly loud. When banging sounded from the door behind us, from the tiny office behind the CQ area, we both jumped. "gently caress THIS!" I yelled, standing up. My nerves were strethced too tight. I wasn't going to just sit here. There was NO loving SUCH THINGS AS GHOSTS! This was someone loving with us or an effect of the blizzard top outside. I walked over to the door and snatched it open, telling myself that a window must have blown open. The musty air was pushed back by another shrieking breeze, and in the red light I saw that the only things in there was cot, a sleeping bag, a desk, and a chair. No windows. No vents. "Cobb spent the last week he was here alone in there with these pistols at night. You watch, he's a little twitchy nowdays." Mann said, standing up behind me. I slammed the door and turned back to Mann. "Look, this is bullshit. There's someone in here loving with us." "Who? Who the gently caress is out here to gently caress with us? There's not another loving unit out here within five loving miles! They're on the other side of the loving mountain! We're above the goddamn ski resort for Christ's Sake!" Mann looked pissed, but I didn't care. THis was bullshit. This was a US Army barracks, for fucks sake, nobody believed in ghosts. "Give me the loving keys, I'm going upstairs." I told him. I grabbed another flashlight and put new batteries in it, then shoved the rest of the batteries from the package in my pocket. "You realize, we won't be able to hear you scream above the "wind"." he told me, placing a strange emphasis on wind. I nodded and took two steps before Mann grabbed my arm. "Look, kid, I realize you're all bad rear end hell from AIT and Basic, but listen to me." he sounded urgent, and I stopped. "Look, there are some posts in the US that are haunted. I'm not making this up, kid. Madigan Army Hospital at Fort Lewis is haunted, the parade ground at Fort Riley Kansas is haunted, Darmstadt is haunted, the whole loving post. Don't go loving around in here." I could see the earnestness in his voice, and reminded myself that he had been in the Army for 8 years before getting busted to his current rank. He'd been a Drill Instructor at Red Stone, training ChemCorps troops, and got caught loving one of the students. I sat down, then nearly jumped out of my seat at what sounded like cackling laughter coming from down the hallway. "Just the wind, kid." Mann told me. He didn't sound convinced, but I decided it was better to just stay here with him. The night passed, but only an hour or so was filled with strange noises. The lights came back on at 3AM, and the wind died down. I was glad I'd refilled the coal chute on the furnace before dinner. We ate MRE's for breakfast, and Stokes and Cobb took the only vehicle we had to the chow hall on main post and got us some food. According to Mann, out in the snow, was a building that would be our mess hall. The cooks were all due sometimes. We called in what happened to the LT, and the guy on the other side of the line didn't sound surprised, or even worried. Just asked if we had any other casualties to report. I went to bed. The chair was uncomfortable, but the sounds of the rest of the company were comforting. ------------------- I slept till around noon, and woke up to someone stamping their feet. Bleary eyed I got up and walked out the day room doors and into the CQ area. Carter was taking off his parka, and there were two other people there. A Captain and a Sergeant First Class. "Jesus Christ, we got loving dicked." The SFC bitched. When he took off the parka, I read the name "Vickers" on his chest. He had jump wings, air assault wings, and a pathfinder badge. "Who are you?" the Captain asked me. "Private Monkey, sir." I told him. "Jesus, Vickers, he's just out of boot." the Captian grinned. When he pulled off his parka I saw his name Bishop. "Well, Private Monkey, go get everyone. We had the mess hall load us up with a couple of mermites so you guys can have hot chow tonight and for breakfast." "Yes, sir." I said. I went to the desk, and wrote down what rooms had people in them. Eighteen, out of over eighty rooms. Jesus. I gathered everyone up, and there were questions about the new CO or XO, and the new NCO. We gathered for dinner, and ate chatting about what a poo poo hole we were stuck in. The far end of the hallway suddenly went dark and the Captian looked at us. "It's eighteen hundred hours." Cobb said. THe Captian raised one eyebrow, but let it lie. About ten minutes later the lights flickered back on. "Every night, sir." Cobb said. A shriek flowed down the stairwell, and Captain Bishop and SFC Vickers exchanged a glance. "Let me guess, just the wind?" Captain Bishop asked. Cobb nodded, and the CPT and the SFC exchanged glances. "The Army actually expects you to stay here?" Captain Bishop said. "This is outfuckingrageous! In twelve years in the military I've never seen any poo poo like that." The boots crashed upstairs. Wind my rear end, there were dead Nazi's up there, I knew it. SFC VIckers looked up. "How bad does it get, soldiers?" SFC Vickers asked as another scream ripped down the hallway. I noticed Cobb was scootched up into the corner, he was eating without looking at his plate. I'd seen that in Juvie a lot. "Pretty bad, Sergeant. We've pretty much abandoned our rooms, and at night, we all stay down here." Stokes told him. "You haven't heard the worst of it. Last week was really bad." "How bad, soldier?" Captain Bishop asked. He sounded genuine, not faking. "Voices, sir. We could hear voices." Stokes was staring at her plate. "What kind of voices?" Captain Bishop asked softly. Upstairs, the stomping sounded again. "German voices, sir. And laughing." Stokes said. I looked around, and saw everyone else nodding. "We all stay in here, tommorrow, we'll search this loving building." Vickers said. A sobbing scream echoed out of the vents. "Try to get some sleep, troops. God, this is just hosed up." Captian Bishop said. He saw that Carter and Mann had the .45's again, and raised an eyebrow. "Here, sir." Mann said, handing Captain Bishop the pistol. "Shouldn't these be in the arms room?" Bishop asked. "We don't have the keys. Cobb found these in one of the offices upstairs." Mann answered, and Cobb nodded. A slow, mournful wail floated down the vents and the hallway, heralding a cold breeze that turned the room freezing. Our breaths plumed out. The lights shut out, about eleven, and I woke to Sergeant Vickers and Captain Bishop swearing. I tossed in my chair and went back to sleep. We had command, finally. Things would be OK. (OK, I'm heading out. I'll probably add to this. The most hosed up week of my life)
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Oct 3, 2022 22:18
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I kept laughing in the darkness. Sharp, brittle laughter that I couldn't stop. The line from the movie kept flashing through my head: "Have you checked the children?" I could picture some old Nazi, all withered up, maggots writhing in his eye sockets, whispering into the phone: "Haben Sie die Kinder überprüft?" and the MI guys calling us back and yelling: "HOLY gently caress! IT'S COMING FROM INSIDE THE BARRACKS! RUN!" "At ease that poo poo, Private!" Captain Bishop barked, and my laughter cut off immediately. I took a deep breath, knelt down, and pulled the Nazi dagger from my boot. If one of them did try to jump me, maybe it would work against them. Or maybe it would take it away from me and feed it to me. "It's just goddamn crossed wires, that's all it is, Private." Captain Bishop snarled me. "Then where's Tandy?" I snarled back. I hated this goddamn place. Why couldn't I have been sent to Graph, or loving Stuttgart, why did I have to end up in some shithole on top of a goddamn mountain? Silence followed my question. "Unplug the phones, and everyone fall back to the dayroom. Private Monkey, you're with me." Captain Bishop said. "Stokes, lock the day room door once everyone is inside." I flicked on the heavy flashlight that we had taken from the five-ton's toolkit, and panned it over everyone. Stokes pupils were wide as hell, and didn't even dilate when I passed the light over her sweaty face. Her hands were absently kneading her injured knee, and she was chewing on her lower lip. Captain Bishop looked resolute, every inch the commander. He nodded to me, and I set the flashlight on the counter. I reached down and hauled Stokes to her feet, and figured what the hell and patted her butt as she turned and left the CQ area. "Ready, Private Monkey?" Captain Bishop asked. "Yes, sir." I answered. I heard him check the load on his .45. We had 2 M1911A1 Colt .45's, and two magazines worth the ammunition. One of which, I'd fired about half the shells out of fending off an attack by a flag. He held the flashlight in one hand, and his pistol in another, and we walked toward the double doors for the hallway. Above us, we heard the crashing sound. To me, it sounded like boots hitting the floor, like a class rising to attention. "Don't say much, do you, son?" He asked, while I unlocked the hallway door. "No, sir." I answered, stepping back when the doors were unlocked. He pushed through, and I followed him. I could feel the hair on the back of my neck stir, and goosebumps cover my spine and arms. "Most privates never shut up." he told me, moving down the hallway. I shadowed him, dropping back a few paces and steadying my breathing and trying to control my heartbeat. If I can control it during BRM, I'll control it in this goddamn hallway. I am Private Monkey. I am a killing machine forged by masters in order to make the other motherfucker die for his country. I am Private Monkey, made of twisted steel and sex appeal. I used the mantra to slow my heartbeat and take control of my singing nerves. We heard running footsteps in the hallway above us that faded out after passing us. "What do you think it is, Private?" Bishop asked while I unlocked the middle stairwell. "Ghosts." I answered, moving into the stairwell first. Strike upwards, under the ribs, twist your wrist, pull down, snake an arm around them, stab upwards between the ribs, drag the knife out, knee them in the balls. I could hear the lessons. I wasn't sure it would work against dead Nazi's, but I was pretty sure if Tandy jumped us, I could kill him. Blood didn't bother me. Screaming didn't bother me. Phone calls from bloody, raw skulls bothered me. "Up." Bishop said. The flashlight was buzzing, even though I'd replaced the batteries twice while we were in the sub-basement. Ionization, Mann had theorized. Something about the building was ionizing the batteries, and messing up the generators, providing feedback. I'd payed attention, but it sounded to me like he was trying to convince himself more than us. Like my cellmate, who constantly told me how he was innocent. Trying to convince himself. I headed up, staying on the left hand side of the steps, and moving slowly. I don't know why I bothered, Captian Bishop kept painting me with the goddamn flashlight, but I still moved quietly and carefully. Once we reached the second floor, Captain Bishop motioned for me to unlock the door, and I did so, then stood aside. "I'd rather you went first, Private. No offense, but you are really creeping me out right now." he told me. I nodded, opened the door just wide enough for me to slide through, and moved into the hallway, quickly moving to a doorway and flattening myself. Down the hallway, we could hear the crashing of boots again. A moan moved down the hallway, and I licked the end of my finger and dropped it down by me thigh. There wasn't a breeze. poo poo. The door opened wide for Captain Bishop, and I saw him move into the hallway. I dropped back about 5 feet when I'd moved into the doorway, and I saw him shine his light against the dividing double doors. He shined it around again. "Private?" "Here, sir." I said, moving out of the shadows and up next to him. Behind us, I heard the click of emergency lights cutting in. "poo poo, you're a creepy little fucker, you know that?" "Yes, sir." I answered, looking back at the emergency light. It was at the far end of the hallway, back by the stairs. The only exit door from that set of stairs was kept chained shut, and had a snowdrift piled in front of it. "Open the door, Private." He flashed his light on the dividing doors. "Hold it." I told him. "Why?" "Shhhhh." I strained. I could almost hear it. "Don't you shush me!" He was losing his cool, I stood on my tiptoes to get my mouth by his ear and rather than whisper, which carried, I spoke softly. "We're not alone. Now shut the gently caress up." I could feel him stiffen, but didn't care. "Shut off the light, it's blinding me." He clicked off the light, and I heard him swallow loudly. There was someone in the hallway with us. The flashlight kept throwing crazed shadows, but I could feel them. My father had taught me to go with my instincts. My instincts said that we weren't alone. "Stay here." I told him, and began moving down the hallway. Walk on the outside edge of your boot. Heel first, roll your foot, toes last, move slowly, relax your body, listen, smell, don't look for things, look for movement. I took about five paces when the far light cut off and the next one switched on with a buzz. I could hear Captain Bishop behind me, breathing heavily, I could hear my own slow breathing, my own heartbeat, and Captain Bishop's boots as he changed position. It wasn't an animal in here with us. I learned the difference between feeling an animal nearby and a person during the multitude of camping trips my father had taken us on. I'd once tracked Todd for 5 miles, without him ever knowing I was there. I passed my room, and slowed down. The light in front of me clicked off, and I shifted position. Directly across from my barracks room door was another emergency light. I stopped directly below it, and paused my breathing. There was a buzzing noise from inside the casing of the emergency light, and it turned on. Two dim halos of red lighting appeared in the hallway, but I was between them. The feeling someone was in here with us vanished. gently caress. The light stayed on as I stepped toward the CO and waved. I walked back up the hallway, and paused for second. "Captain Bishop, I'm approaching you." I warned him. It sounded stupid, but I didn't want him to shoot me. "Go ahead and turn on the lantern." The light came on, and I closed my eyes when he shined it in my face. "Open the doors, Private." He ordered. He sounded shakey. "Yes, sir." i unlocked the door, and held it open for him. In front of us, we heard the crashing noise again. I almost heard something right before the crashing noise. Almost. It was right on the edge of my hearing. gently caress. We were halfway down the hallway when it happened. *knock* I faded into the opposite doorway and froze, flipping the knife in my hand and bending my wrist so the blade was against my forearm. Captain Bishop had frozen in the hallway. *knock knock* It was coming from the doorway right next to him. It was definitely a knock. Someone was knocking. *knock knock* It was a barracks room, I closed my eyes and visualized the copied map in my little green notebook in my pocket. Not the map, but where I was when I drew it, and what I was thinking when I drew it. It's an old trick, but it works. The room was unoccupied. Tandy's room was on the floor below, my room was in the further back section, and the only other person on the second floor beside me was Mann and Smith. Mann's was all the way at the end of the hallway, Smith's was next to mine. "Private?" Captain Bishop sounded nervous. "Shhh." I told him, ghosting by him. The flashlight beam was skittering all over the far hallway, throwing strange and menacing shadows. He started to turn toward me, but I was by him and resting my fingertips on the door as lightly as I could and still have contact. *knock knock* The door didn't vibrate. The sound was coming from the room itself. Somewhere inside. I used the masterkey to slowly unlock the door, and waited, my hand on the lever. *knock I shoved open the door, and took four steps into the room, carrying myself past the bathroom and the built in wall lockers. knock* The sound was coming from in front of me, by the window. I moved forward, stepping up and resting my fingers against the pipe leading into the radiator. *knock knock* The pipe shivered slightly with each sound. Heh. "Private?" Captain Bishop shined the light into the room, and I wondered what he saw. Was it just me, or some twisted shape with a hand full of steel? "Just the radiator, sir." I told him, walking back out into the hallway and closing the door. I locked it. "Air in the pipes, probably." At the far end of the hallway, the crashing sounded again, and another moan drifted down the hallway. I sucked on my fingertip and stuck it upwards, feeling for the breeze. Nothing. I ducked down as the moan swirled around us and started to go by. There. A slight breeze. On the floor? Interesting. I unlocked the door again and opened it. "Sir, when I close the door, please shine the light on the bottom of it." I asked him. "What are you doing, Private?" "Seeing if there is a gap beneath the doors." I answered, stepping inside. I closed the door, and knelt down. I could see him pan the beam over the doorway. There was about a quarter inch gap at the bottom of the door. I stood up, opened the door, and came back into the hallway. "Well?" I locked the door. "There's a gap, that gives air room to move, and can affect the air currents. Did you ever live in an old house?" "No." "If you did, you'd know that old buildings settle strangely, and that lets air in, and the air catches in places and makes weird noises. Kind of like water puddling." I told him. "How do you know?" He asked. "My father told me." I answered, with conviction in my voice. In front of us, the crashing sounded again. "And that? What did your father say about that?" He sounded honest, not like he was sneering. "Run." I told him, and started down the hallway. I was going to find out, once and for all, what the gently caress classes they were teaching. Jew Strangling 101? POW Torturing 225? Medical Experiments 115? Stabbing 110? Whatever it was, I was going to find out. With or without the Captain. I could hear Captain Bishop moving behind me as I stopped in front of the door. According to my map, past these wide double doors was a fairly large open area, listed as a classroom on the map. I didn't know what the crossed out German word meant, but I didn't care either. "What are you waiting for?" Bishop asked. "Ssshh." I replied, rocking back and forth on my heels. *BANG I leaned back. BANG I slammed one boot against the center of the doors, putting everything I had into it. The heel of my combat boot hit between the door handles. BANG* The doors flew open, and wind whipped around us. The light behind me flickered and went out, but I was already moving into the room, knife held low and ready. I took three steps into the room and stopped, turning in a slow circle. Nothing. Not a loving thing. The room was cold enough that I could feel my nose and ears start to hurt, and the knife felt like I was holding onto a chunk of ice. "GODDAMN IT! I HATE THIS poo poo!" I yelled. Captain Bishop came in the room, and I could hear him dicking with the flashlight. I kept the knife low and pointed down in case he bumped into me. I didn't want to accidentally stab his rear end. "Almost." Bishop said. I waited, keeping my breathing slow and steady, and feeling embarassed for my reaction. "There." The light clicked on and he panned it around the room. Closed windows on one wall, up toward the top. Three sets of double doors leading out besides the ones I'd kicked open. A set of bathrooms, and a single door. We unlocked each one in turn, and looked inside. Jack and poo poo. We stood in the main room, the flashlight illuminating my legs. "What the gently caress is making the noise?" Captain Bishop asked. "Wait." I answered. We stood there silently, waiting. "Why did you attack that cop?" Bishop asked me, out of the blue. "You drat near beat him to death. Why?" "My sister." I replied, straining my ears. Why did he have to choose now to make small talk? "You're sister? What, was he raping her?" "Yes, sir." I answered. He shut up. I figured he would, that's pretty much how everyone reacted. *BANG BANG BANG* It came from upstairs again. The third floor. It was louder in here, and echoed. There was something just before the crashing, but I didn't catch it. "Let's head back. I don't like the feel of this." Captain Bishop said. "Yes, sir." I went over and unlocked the stairwell and pulled open the door. He waved me inside, and I waited for him on the landing. When the door shut, we began moving down the steps. We were halfway down when the doorway above us, at the top of the stairs, crashed open. Captain Bishop jumped, but I'd been expecting it. This was a little too repetitive to be ghosts. This was structural problems. We went down to the first floor, and I unlocked the door. I could smell that Captain Bishop was sweating, and smell that acrid smell that fear made. I locked the door behind us when we went to the CQ area. I moved around the counter, sat down, stuck the knife into the sheathe tucked in my boot, then put my boots up on the counter. "Well, sir?" I asked. "What, Private?" "Find out what you wanted to know, sir?" I asked. I had my own theories by this point. "No. Someone's loving with us, and I'm starting to believe Cobb that this place is haunted." He told me. At the far end of the hallway, the emergency lights flickered and went out again. "Are you going to OK out here?" He asked me. "Yes, sir." I answered. He set the .45 on the counter, and turned away. "Come and get me if there are any problems." I chuckled to myself as he knocked on the door and waited for Stokes to open it. Problems? What kind of problems could we be having? Mann relieved me at breakfast, and Stokes and I ate eggs and rat meat. Mmmm. Everyone looked sandy-eyed. I'd plugged in the phones about zero five hundred, and nobody had called. Pervert or not. I'd decided that the radiator had proven that this wasn't a haunting, this was a building that was old, falling apart, shittily maintained, and half-assed rebuilt. Stokes was staring at me oddly when I stood up and stretched. Cobb was smoking a cigarette and I reached down and grabbed it, taking a drag, then handed it back to him. I didn't smoke, but the taste of the cigarette would get the nasty taste out of my mouth. Cobb grinned at me. Mann had unlocked the doors, and I headed down to my room. gently caress this, I wanted a shower. Oh gently caress, my laundry. I'd forgotten all about it. At least I'd put it in the drier. It had sat in there for several days, but I was worried that I'd open the drier and find old SS uniforms replacing mine. When I went into the laundry room, my laundry was on the counter, neatly folded and seperated. No. No loving way. I thought, picking it up and heading out of the laundry room. No loving ghost, anywhere, is going to fold laundry. Not even some anal retentive dead Nazi SS instructor. To me, it was just further proof that all of this was just structural. I managed to unlock my room without dropping my laundry, and kicked the door shut behind me. I put away my laundry, and caught sight of the flask of Tequila that SPC Thompson had given me. gently caress it. I took the bottle with me into the bathroom, turned on the water, and waited for it to heat up. When it heated up enough, I stepped in and sat down crosslegged. I pulled a couple hits off the bottle, stood up, set the bottle on the sink, and took care of business. Finished with memories of my wife and last meeting, I washed off, then grabbed the bottle again. I took a long pull standing there, with the water sluicing down my back. The lights went off in the bathroom, instantly plunging it into darkness. I took another hit off the bottle and leaned my head against the tile of the shower. I missed my wife. I missed my friends. I missed my twin sister. I hoped my twin brother had gotten anally raped to death by a moose. The lights flickered. I took another long drink, nearly emptying the flask, and thought about Susan. I used our wedding ring to make clinking noises against the bottle. The water was hot, smelled faintly of rust, but it was hot. I missed her voice, I missed her smell, I missed the way she would cuddle up to me in the middle of the night. The light flickered, buzzed, and went out. I scratched my balls and wondered what Stokes titties looked like under that brown shirt, and tried to imagine what her rear end looked like. She was a big woman, but I was willing to bet she was all woman under those BDU's. The light came on with a snap, and I turned off the shower. I dried off, drug on my blue and gold PT shorts, and went out into my room. I'd left the door open, and the steam had boiled out of the bathroom and coated the whole place with frost. "What the hell were you doing in there, jerking off?" Stokes asked me. She was sitting in the chair that normally went under the desk, with her leg stretched out. "Yeah. What the hell are you doing in here?" I asked. Oh poo poo. She probably knew I'd been wondering about her. "It's too noisy down there. They're getting a block and tackle from Third Shop along with some pallet jacks, and they're going to load all that Nazi poo poo you found onto some trucks." She told me. "Mind if I sleep in here? Mine's on the first floor, and they're dragging all that poo poo right by my room." "I snore." I told her, vaulting into my bed. One hand on the edge of the bed, and just fling myself into the top bunk. I pulled the green blankets off and tossed them on the floor, then slithered underneath the comforter I'd brought with me, buried in my duffle bag. "You've got to be kidding." She told me, picking up the blankets. "I'm married." I told her. She tossed the blankets up on the bed and climbed up painfully. "Good. So we know where we stand." She pulled off the leg brace and tossed it on the floor. I rolled over and faced the wall. I couldn't get my mind off of her titties against my back until I went to sleep. -------------------------------- I woke up first, seriously in need, and pressed up against her. I sighed in the cold and dark, pulled her hand off me, and slid out from behind her. Climbing down the front of the bunk wasn't easy, but I didn't tear my dick off, so it was good. I took another shower. When I came out, she had managed to get down out of the bunk, and was sitting on one of the spare beds. "Go ahead, towels are on the shelf." I told her, walking up and opening my drawer to get a clean uniform. She nodded and limped into the bathroom, shutting it and locking it. I wanted to laugh. less than a half hour ago, she'd been holding... never mind, I was married, I didn't need to think about that. Besides, we were asleep, so it didn't count. I was finishing lacing up my boots when she screamed. I walked up to the door and knocked. "It's just the lights." I told her. "Monkey?" "Yeah?" "It scared me." "Just wait it out." I answered. "OK." I went back into the main part of the room, and took the time to shine my boots. They needed it. Tuck the dagger into my boot, and I'm good. I dry-shaved, tossed the razor in the garbage, and sat down. According to my little map in my green notebook, the third floor and the attic weren't refurbished. I was willing to bet that there was a hole in the wall or something. I made marks on my little map. I was sure it was electrical problems and structural problems. There's no such things as ghosts. Stokes came limping out of my bathroom, naked in all her glory, towelling her hair. I could see the scars running up and down her bad leg, and another thick scar underneath her left breast. She'd gotten messed up in that wreck. I turned around and waited till she got done dressing. "Don't you like me?" She asked. "I do." "You don't even look." "I'm married." "Never mattered to anyone else." Her hand fell on my shoulder. "It matters to me." I answered, putting my hand on top of hers and squeezing. My wedding ring glinted in the light. She held my hand a moment longer, then stepped away, taking her hand with her. goddamn it I waited till she cleared her throat and turned around. She was dressed in her uniform again, and I was painfully aware of just how much that uniform concealed, how shapeless it made her look. gently caress Together we walked down to the CQ area, she asked me about the circumstances of joining the Army, I grunted in response. I let her use me for balance when we were going down the stairs, I didn't want her to risk hurting her leg. Everyone was sitting in the CQ area, and there were people I didn't recognise. Dinner was spagetti and out of mermite cans again. I did a quick head count, and came up with 25. Oh joy, we'd been reenforced. All of them were E-4's and waaay too old for their rank. "There's the man." Cobb said. He lit a cigarette and handed it to me. I took it, I didn't smoke, but it was polite. "What?" I asked. "You're the furnace man. Mind showing some of these guys how to reload it?" Cobb asked. He had an evil grin, one I matched. "No problem." I answered, walking over and picking up the heavy flashlight. "Your seven, form up on Private Monkey." Captain Bishop said. He stood up and handed me the .45. I checked the action, and put it in my thigh pocket. "Be back in 10 minutes. Get your parkas and your gloves." I told them. I'd carried my parka under my arm, my gloves were in my left thigh pocket. I'd only been here a few days, but I'd learned quickly. "You guys close that hatch?" I asked. My ribs ached still. "Yeah, we closed it." Mann said. "We moved all that poo poo out of there. You wouldn't have believed all that poo poo down there." Smith added. "Over twelve trips with the 5-ton to clear it all out." "Barring anything unusual, we'll be ordering a replacement water heater and furnance, and the engineers are going to send down some electrical guys and plumbers to check the building out." Captain Bishop interjected. I nodded. He didn't prod me for a correct answer, or to expound on whatever I had to say. "How was your rest?" Cobb snickered. I stared at him, and after a moment, he looked away. "Fine." I answered eventually. There was mumbling, but that was about it. Stokes looked at me strangely, and I smiled at her. "Private MOnkey, you mentioned these." SFC Vickers had two boxes of fuses in his hand, I took them and tucked them into the pocket of my BDU blouse. The newbies had finally gathered back up, and I put on my parka, buckled it, and pulled the .45 and transferred it to the pocket on my parka. "Monkey, take this." Cobb told me. I looked down, and he was holding up a coil of 550 cord that had a bunch of D-rings hanging off it. "Thanks, Cobb." I replied, taking it and putting it in my cargo pocket. He was right, it might come out useful. "Let's go, troops." I said, and led them down the hallway. I had to leave them there, while I went back and got the master key. SOmeone had locked the stairwell door. They all looked at each other oddly when I unlocked it. When I pushed open the door, the lights in the hallway and the stairwell cut off. Two of the emergency lights cut in, and the stairwell stayed dark. There was a low moan that echoed through the stairwell, and an answering shriek from the upstairs hallway. Someone swore under their breath. "At ease that poo poo." I growled, stepping into the stairwell. We went down to the bottom floor, and I unlocked the stairwell door. I waited till everyone was in the little hallway, and I pointed at the door. "Once we are past this door, there are no lights, it is a dirt floor, and do not trust what you hear." I told them. "Come on, Private, save the loving ghost stories, we're not greenies." one guy laughed. I just stared at him for a moment, then he dropped his gaze. "If you men and women are done." I stated. Nobody said anything, and I unlocked the door. "jeeze, what an rear end in a top hat." someone whispered. That's why you don't whisper, numbnuts, it carries. The stench of something wrong gushed out and enveloped us. Someone coughed, but I just pushed my way into the darkness. The light from the flashlight was dim, but I wanted proof this time. My regular flashlight was still off, with the batteries in my pocket. Someone bitched about the smell, and I told them all to shut the gently caress up. I didn't say anything, I was counting steps. Twenty steps in, the flashlight flickered. At thirty five, it cut out. We stood in the darkness. The water heater was slowly breathing in the darkness, and I could see the glow of the furnance in the distance. "What happened?" Someone asked. Female. "Happens all the time." I answered, clipping the heavy one to my parka belt and dragging out my regular, issue, flashlight. I replaced the batteries, and the dim light turned on. "Follow me." I told them. Someone swore softly. I could feel the hair on my neck raising up, and the goosebumps forming. I couldn't hear any strange noises over all the racket all the loving noobs were raising. We got to the furnace, and I instructed everyone on how to keep a furnace fed and cared for. They asked about the wheels, and I told them that there was no way to tell what the gently caress they were for. This wasn't a steam furnace, this was an old style coal heats air air floats up type furnace. I hated the big black fucker. We'd taken about a half dozen steps when my flashlight cut out. I couldn't resist, I ghosted away, found the wall with my hand, and leaned on it. "Remember, ghosts don't exist." I whispered. I heard them cursing, yelling for me, and in general being pissed. After a few moments, the sounds stopped, and we could all hear the basement. The hissing breaths of the water heater, and the grinding chuckle of Mr. Furnace. There was a scampering noise, and someone screamed. "SOMETHING JUST RAN UP MY LEG!" I chuckled. Mr. Rat would do that. I felt a fierce joy, an obscene thrill at torturing these guys and girls like this. Not so brave now, are you, fuckers? I swapped out the batteries, and turned on the flashlight. I shined it around, and found them scattered everywhere. "What the gently caress is wrong with you people? Don't you have any goddamn discipline? Look at this bullshit. The goddamn rotten wood hatch to the sub-basement is about three feet from you, dipshit. That's a twenty foot loving fall to concrete." I walked up to each of them. "Next time this poo poo happens, STAY THE gently caress TOGETHER!" I was grinning fiercely, convinced they'd learned the danger of this goddamn building. I led them back to the CQ area, locking the doors behind me. "Cobb is missing." Captain Bishop told me. I suddenly wanted a cigarette. "Monkey, take three. Where do you think he might be?" Captain Bishop asked me. "Attic, sir." I replied. I knew he wasn't in the furnace room. I'd have seen him. "Mann, Carter, Smith, and Stokes." I said, pointing out each of them. I went around back of the CQ counter, pulled open the drawer, and grabbed another packet of batteries. I left the heavy duty one there, my little issue one was my friend, it wouldn't fail me. It was issue, but a gift from a friend in AIT. Long story short, she shoved it in her snatch on a drunken bet. I lost the bet. The flashlight was my buddy, it wouldn't fail me. "Check the attic. And, uh, Monkey?" I looked at Captain Bishop, "Protect your men." I nodded, and took the .45 out of my pocket. He nodded, and I turned around. "Let's go." I said, and didn't even bother looking behind me to make sure they were following me. It didn't seem weird, that I was a PV2 with less time in than these guys and gals had spent in the field, and they were listening to me. I liked Mann, he was a good guy, and a hard worker. Smith had a wry sense of humor, and I trusted him to have my back. Carter didn't strike me as the type to let me down, and he wouldn't run. Stokes, she was looking for redemption. I don't know why I knew it, I just did. Maybe the time I spent as Basic Training platoon sergeant? Maybe the time I spent as Class Sergeant in AIT. We went up the stairs, to the third floor, and I checked the door. Locked, but that didn't mean poo poo. I was willing to bet Cobb had a key. He's been here all alone for two weeks. The memory of his lunge to my throat suddenly came to the front. Wait, didn't someone vanish? Wasn't only he and one other guy here, and that guy supposedly vanished? My throat gave a dull throb. I held my hand up and clicked off the flashlight. "If you see Cobb, don't gently caress around, kill him if you have to, but don't trust him." I ordered. My eyes were adjusting to the darkness, I could feel them around me. "I think he's got cabin fever." "You've got to be kidding." Stokes whispered. "He's never hurt me." I pressed the .45 in her hand. "You move slower than us. Don't gently caress with him, shoot him in the goddamn knee and scream." I put my hand on the push-bar of the door. "Let's do this." I eased open the door, and looked around. There was a huge emblem painted on one wall, and moonlight was streaming through the windows. The storm was over us, and I could see clouds slowly moving toward us. We wouldn't have light for long. The room was empty, and the same layout as the floor below. I ghosted through the room, and tried the first set of doors. Locked. drat it. I unlocked and opened the door. I could see wires hanging down from the walls, desks, another goddamn Nazi mural. There was dust on the floor, with some footprints, but no Army boot prints. He hadn't been in here. Each of the other rooms were the same. Desks. Typewriters. Murals. Telephones. It was like the Nazi's had just got up and left for lunch and never come back. I picked up a clipboard and looked at it. German, and I didn't speak a bit of it. It could have been a nasty note specifically to me, and I wouldn't have known it. Still, something about it sent goosebumps down my spine, and I set it down. Something bad had happened here. We met back up in the main room. Stokes was leaning against the wall, the windows over her head, and the pistol held in both hands. The clouds were rapidly approaching, and I knew we were going to run out natural light soon. He'd found two pistols, who was to say he didn't find more? And now that you mention it, who the hell was to say that the armory key wasn't "missing" but rather riding in Cobb's pocket? I knelt down and drew the SS dagger from my boot. "What?" Stokes asked. "Who put the locks on the armory?" I asked. "Cobb, but the key is... oh. poo poo." Stokes answered. "Back us up, Stokes." I handed the knife to Mann, who shook his head. I handed it to Smith, who took it and looked at me. "What, because I'm black I can stab someone?" "Fine, give it back." "gently caress you, it's mine now." I chuckled, and moved over to the door. "Smith, you and Carter go down and check the armory, then report back. If you're not back in ten minutes, Stokes, Mann, and I will mount a rescue mission." I said. "Be careful, Monkey, Cobb's a bad motherfucker. He knows Karate." Mann said. I snorted, remembering the feel of Cobb's nose smashing against my forehead. "Cobb's a punk." I said. "He's all loving talk, just get on him and hurt him. Stokes, Mann, stay here." We split up, and I ghosted down the hall. I was good at it, moving silently. Less than 2 years before, during hunting season, I'd gotten close enough to a deer to thump it on the nose. I doubted Cobb would be as sensitive as a deer. I checked each of the doors, ignoring the moaning. The moaning was of the dead, I was hunting the living. They were all locked, and each one I silently cracked open and moved in silently. The clouds had come back in, but there was still enough light to see. Muttering to myself, I headed back down the hallway. Everyone was back. "Cobb wasn't down there. The arms room was still locked." Smith said, offering me back the knife. I took it. "I'm telling you, that cracker is long gone." "No, he isn't. He wants to leave, but he can't. He's in here somewhere." I told them. "He's got cabin fever. Come on, help me find the attic access." It took us about twenty minutes, but we found it in an office. Smith stood on the desk and pushed up the hatch, telling us that if he got killed, his "black rear end" was going to haunt us forever. "Holy gently caress." he whispered. "What?" I asked. "The whole attic is full of more of those goddamn boxes." Smith told us. Below us, we heard the crashing of boots, and a scream drifted up through the vent. "gently caress this, he's not up here. Let's head back to the CQ area." I said. Everyone agreed, and we left the hatch open when we headed out. Downstairs, everyone else had reformed up, but nobody had found Cobb. "Everyone in the dayroom. We'll search for him tomorrow. Monkey, you've got first watch." Captain Bishop ordered. I nodded, took the master key and flashlight, and went out to the CQ area. It would be dark, the storm would cut off most of the moonlight, but my eyes would adjust. Crazy white man, or dead Nazi's. Something was in here with us. I had the weirdest feeling everything was about to come to a head. I stood in the shadows behind the CQ desk for about an hour, thinking dark thoughts. Cobb had murdered that guy. I knew it was strongly as I knew he'd wrapped his goddamn dickbeaters around my loving neck. The place wasn't haunted, but it was a loving wreck, and Mann was right. Ionization was loving our poo poo up. Same place every time for the batteries to cut out in the basement, and batteries didn't last too long when they were in use. The Nazi's had left, that much we knew. When the US troops found this building, they did a cursory sweep and left. THere had been POW's stored on this post during World War II, and it was a "Displaced Persons" encampment following World War II. Knights had fought here at one point. We were smack in the middle of the Fulda Gap, the first line of defense against the Red Steamroller. Bad things had happened here. Rumors of torture practice, garotte practice. Stokes had told me about there being an off limits area where the whipping post, with it's iron ring that people's hands were lashed to, was still intact. Wounded animals nest up, son. My father's voice whispered inside my mind. I turned from where I was staring at the hallway, moving slow so I wouldn't attract attention. The SS dagger was in my hand, I'd put the .45 in my pocket. gently caress gently caress gently caress gently caress! Two slow steps took me there, and I gently pressed down on the door handle. It clicked, the sound buried beneath a low moan of agony drifting down the hallway. I pushed open the door, and looked in. Cobb was passed out on the single bunk in the office, a bottle of Picardi 151 still in his hand. motherfucker He had been there all along. Too many people had come in, too many unfamiliar faces, and he'd retreated to his nest where he'd hidden from the sounds of the barracks when he was here all alone. he didn't try to roll his thumbs If you're really strangling someone, you roll your thumbs to crush the windpipe. He'd just squeezed. As I stared at him, I sincerely doubted he could murder anyone. I'd met murderers, rapists, and the like in maximum security before I was transferred. Cobb wasn't a killer, he was scared shitless. I knelt down next to him. He reeked of booze. "Cobb." I whispered, shaking him. Nothing. He didn't even flinch. I pinched his earlobe between my thumbnail and fingernail. He didn't even so much as fart. He was loving wasted. I picked up his pack of smokes and took some, putting them in the pocket of my parka. You never know when you might need cigarettes. I stood up, and quietly left him to his nightmares. I locked the door, more out of politeness than anything else. I went over to the dayroom, unlocked the door, and went inside. Captain Bishop was sleeping right next to the door, and I shook him awake. "Sir, come with me." I said. He looked at me oddly, but followed. I closed and locked the door behind me. "What is it, Private?" Captain Bishop asked. At least he kept his loving voice quiet. "I found Cobb." I told him. "gently caress, you didn't kill him, did you?" Bishop asked. "No, he's passed out in his little hidey-hole with a bottle of 151." I pointed at the door. Captain Bishop followed where I was pointing and let out a laugh. "You've got to be loving kidding. We turned this place upside down, and he was in there asleep the whole loving time?" I nodded. "Ain't that some poo poo." He let out a long breath. "loving figures. God, I hate this building." A moan drifted down the hallway, and the crashing noise came from upstairs. I checked my watch. "What?" "The crashing, it comes every fourty-five minutes to an hour, every night." I said. "So? Spit it out, Private." "I've got a theory, but I'm not sure." "You've got a theory? You? You didn't even finish high school." SFC VIckers scornful voice said from the doorway. I'd heard it open, but figured it was someone going to take a piss. SFC Vickers stomped out into the CQ area. "Who the gently caress are you talking too out here, Private Monkey? You're supposed to be on guard duty, not running your loving mouth. Private Cobb could have ran by you playing a goddamn bugle with all the noise you're making." He stomped right by Captain Bishop and I, up to where my flashlight was sitting on the counter. About 10 feet from me. Moron. "He's talking to me, Sergeant. Do you have a problem?" Captain Bishop's tone was colder than the wind outside. "No, no sir, I don't. I thought, well, I didn't see you there." He was turned toward us, trying to squint in the light of my flashlight. "Seeing as your GT is under 100, and you failed your last SQT, I don't think you should be commenting on anyone's intellect." Captain Bishop finished. "Well, I thought Monkey was just out here showing off." Vickers finished lamely. SHowing off? No, that would be if I walked up to him, pulled his goddamn bullying head off, and shoved it in his rear end. "Who was responsible for searching the CQ area and the first floor, Sergeant?" Bishop's tone was freezing now. I thought about breaking out the swimming trunks and standing outside to warm up. "I supervised three of the new soldiers." Vickers replied. "AND HOW DID YOU loving MISS COBB PASSED OUT IN A loving BUNK?" Bishop yelled. It pleased me to no end to see Vickers flinch. I'd been right. He'd bully the lower enlisted, but sucked up and looked all buddy buddy the minute someone higher ranking was around. "They assured me that they searched the entire area, sir." He sounded like a loving weasel. "Well, they didn't. Private Cobb could have been found hours ago, if you did your job." Captain Bishop took a deep breath. "You found Cobb?" Smith asked from the dayroom door. Behind him I could see the glint of lots of eyes and looming shadows. "He's passed out drunk in that office." Captain Bishop told everyone. "He wasn't grabbed by dead Nazi's, the ghost of LT Greer didn't get him. He just returned to the place he'd been living after seventeen hundred and went to sleep." "Oh." Someone said from inside the room, and the door shut. "Sergeant, if I ever hear you use that tone again, or disparage a soldier again, without due cause, and I will follow the recommendation from your last CO and have you ejected from this man's Army. Do you follow?" The cold tone was back. "Yes, sir." Vickers said, hanging his head. He turned and went into the dayroom, leaving me alone with Captain Bishop. "How'd you figure it out?" Captain Bishop asked, nodding toward Cobb's hiding place. "He's got cabin fever. Too many people he didn't know. He went out of his way to make friends with me, always lighting me cigarettes and offering me hits off his bottle and sitting next to me when we ate." I told him. "I've read the FM on psych, and he fits the description of cabin fever." "It's called disambigulation, Private." Captain Bishop replied. "Where did you get medical FM's?" "One of my DI's got them for me. I've read a lot of FM's since I joined the Army." I replied. "Hmmmm." He rubbed his jaw and stared at me. "Carry on. Can you handle the rest of the night?" he asked. "Yes, sir." I answered. --------------------------------- Cobb came stumbling out of his little fortress about 0400, staggered into the bathroom, and I could hear him throwing up over the sound of the wind outside. When he came out, he saw me leaning in the shadows and shambled over. "Got a light?" He asked me. "Yeah." I answered, lighting two cigarettes and handing him one. I didn't smoke, but Cobb needed a friend right now. "Thanks, Monkey, you're an OK guy." he told me. I shrugged. He didn't know me that well yet. "I didn't kill that guy." He told me. He leaned against the wall and sighed. "I believe you." I told him. "REally? Why?" "My room-mate in maximum security before I was transferred to Fort Lost In the Woods was a murderer. All he talked about was how he was innocent. Plus, no offense, but you aren't too good at the whole assault and battery thing." He looked at me oddly. "That's not just a rumor?" "No." He waited for me to explain, then just dropped it. "I hate this place." He told me. We both looked over when the dayroom door opened. One of the newbies walked out scratching his rear end and went into the latrine. "We're stuck here." I told him. We stood silently. The newbie left the bathroom and back into the dayroom. "Go snuggle up next to Stokes, dude. Get some rest. Captain Bishop wants everyone up at 0600." I told him. He stared at me for a moment. "Oh for Christ's Sake, I didn't gently caress her, I'm married. She just stayed in my room. gently caress." "Oh." Cobb replied. I watched him go into his hidey-hole and get his blanket, then go into the dayroom. He closed the door and locked it, leaving me to my thoughts. What the gently caress happened to Tandy? Outside, snow was starting to blow. I stood and watched it, nearly hypnotised by it's dancing. That was when it dawned on me. The light poles at the end of the walk never flickered or went out! I took out my green notebook, and jotted that little fact down, then returned it to my breast pocket. It meant something, and my brain was whirling to figure it out. In the morning, I'd throw all the main breakers, and have someone watch and see if they turned off. If not, that meant they were on a seperate circuit, which meant there was another fuse box somewhere. Maybe outside, or somewhere else, and the power for the building was all hosed up due to having two seperate fuse boxes. It made sense. At 0600, I could hear Captain Bishop waking everyone up. He dragged two mermite cans out for us to eat out of. I sat and ate, thinking about the various theories I had come up with. I didn't even flinch when there scream sounded through the stairwell. I was pretty sure there were air leaks, and as strong as the wind was out there, it would shriek as it passed through the gap. I had all of it figured out. Really, smartass? What happened to Tandy, then? Huh? At 0700, Captain Bishop told me to get some rest, that he'd wake me up at 1700. I nodded, gave him the .45, he gave me a bottle of Jack Daniels, and I headed back to my room. When I got there, I laid on the bare matress of the bottom bunk and lit one of the cigarettes. Malboro. One of the ones I'd stolen from SFC Vickers. I didn't smoke, but it helped me think. The temperature in my room had plummetted, so I swung my legs off the bed, and turned up the radiator. I stood there for a moment, looking at the snow. I couldn't even see the guard towers across from me. I went in and stood in the shower, letting the water run down my back. I finished the cigarette and threw it in the toilet, trying to figure out where Tandy could have gone that we couldn't have found him. In retrospect, where Cobb went was a no-brainer, but Tandy was tougher. I was exhausted. I missed my wife, but at least the vision of Stokes nakedness was fading from my memory, overlaid by the familiar feel of my wife's body against my hands. We'd gotten married while I was at Red Stone Arsenal, real quick, while I was on weekend pass. I'd spent the weekend in her arms, we never left the hotel room. I missed her desperately. I held that vision of her, standing in front of the bathroom, the steam rolling around her, posing naked, touching herself, telling me not to move, to just watch her. I held the memory long enough to finish, soaped off, then got out of the shower. Who the gently caress was I fooling, playing Boy Detective. I was a goddamn PV2, and Vickers was right, I hadn't even graduated High School. I was an uneducated military brat and hick. I climbed in bed, snuggled down in the comforter my wife had given me, and stared at the cieling. Sleep came slow and fitful. I kept waking up to thumping noises above me.
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Oct 3, 2022 22:19
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I woke up when the door opened, and Mann called out my name. "I'm awake." I told him. He came in and sat down in the same chair that Stokes had sat in. I swung my legs out the bed, and noticed that my breath was visible. "Have fun?" I asked. He looked dog tired. "We used a block and tackle to remove all that poo poo from the attic and send it to main post. Eight trips through the goddamn snow, but Captain Bishop is sure we got all that loving Nazi poo poo out of here. Tomorrow, we're going to photograph then pain over all those murals on the third floor." he told me, and rubbed his face. "Got anything to drink?" "In the desk drawer." I jumped down, walked over in my underwear, and dug out a cigarette. I offered one to Mann, who refused, lit one, and went and sat down. The cold air stung, but it was helping me wake up. Mann pulled out my bottle of Jack Daniels and took a long pull off of it before handing it to me. I took a hit off it, then passed it back. "How's Cobb holding up?" I asked. "OK. We got in about 10 more people, including another butterbar. You were right, when Captain Bishop excused us from the work detail, he went and hid in the office." He took another pull off the bottle and looked at me. "You act like a former NCO, you know that?" "Nope. Just PV2." I answered, taking a drag off the cigarette and then a pull off the bottle. It settled in my empty stomach, and I felt the warmth spreading through my limbs. "Huh." Mann replied. He took another pull off the bottle, then stood up and handed it back. "Anyway, Captain Bishop wants us all there for a headcount every night now." I nodded, and Mann left. I pulled out one of my uniforms that some ghost had nicely folded for me, used a damp towel as a break, and ironed it. I polished my boots, dirty from coal dust and the black, gritty dirt of the basement... dirt? why dirt in a basement? gently caress. The question bothered me as I pulled on my uniform and my nicely brush-shined boots. They needed a good spitshine, but I was too busy to have time for it. I grabbed my parka, made sure my gloves were in my pocket, and tucked the SS dagger into my boot. It was starting to get to be a habit. The drat thing didn't even creep me out any more. As I walked down the hallway, a low moan followed me, and I got goosebumps on my legs. At the far end of the hallway came the crashing, and I checked my watch. Which was stopped at midnight. I stopped, held it up to my ear, shook it, and checked it again. Nothing. Son of a bitch, goddamn thing must have gotten knocked. My stomach growled, and I started back down the hallway. When I opened the doorway to the stairwell, a shriek tore down it. I let the door slam, and counted the seconds. Ten seconds later the door above me crashed open, and another scream ripped up the hallway. I smiled to myself, and went into the CQ area. I counted, and another crash of the door being slammed open, and a shriek roared up the stairwell. Ten Seconds. Exactly. As I crossed the CQ area, I checked the snow outside. It was blowing from left to right. Yesterday, it had blown from right to left. Gotcha Everyone was eating in the day room. Cobb waved at me, and I waved back as I walked over to the CQ area. Captain Bishop looked up at me and waved me around the counter. I walked over and sat down. "You said you had a theory." He stated more than asked. I noticed he had a clipboard. I nodded and handed him my green notebook. He opened it up, and started leafing through the pages. Lists of times, wind direction and sounds, wall thickness by brick thickness, time it took for noises to start from my radiator, gaps in the window sills to wall measurements, guesses, theories. "You've really thought this through." He stated, handing it back to me. "Yes, sir." "So you think a better heater and water heater, insulation in the walls, as well as new plumbing and wiring will fix all of this?" he asked. "Yes, sir." "All right. One last question." "Go ahead, sir." "Where's Private Tandy?" godammit "I don't know, sir." He laughed, surprising me. "Good to know you don't think you know everything." He told me. I was watching over his shoulder, and noticed that it was getting dim at the far end of the hallway, past the double doors. "What's wrong, Private?" "I'm not sure, something doesn't look right." I told him, standing up to get a better look. The whole end of the hallway looked like a mist had risen from the floor. I felt my body erupt in goosebumps, and the hair on my neck raise up. "What the gently caress is that?" Captain Bishop asked, looking down the hallway. The mist was thickening, starting to seep under the doors. It rolled down the hallway like a living thing, slowly approaching us. I realized Captain Bishop was backing up as I lifted my boot up onto the counter and drew the dagger. A roaring noise was echoing from the vents, and beyond the doors was turning black. The grey mist was billowing from between the cracks where the doors met. Blackness started spilling from between the doors, and something in the blackness beyond the doors gave out in a shower of sparks. "Mother of God." Captain Bishop breathed. black dirt My mind kept flashing to the dirt, to my boots, and back to the dirt. The bottom of the doors was invisbile, and a heavy, obscene breathing was emenating from the vents. I was starting to sweat. I glanced at Captain Bishop, and he was sweating too. coal "Who was on fireguard tonight?" I asked, moving around the counter and into the CQ room. The mist was fast approaching, more than halfway down the hallway. "Specialist Plows, one of the ones you took down there, why?" Captain Bishop sounded honestly scared as the cloud moved toward us. "PLOWS! POST!" I yelled. Plows came out of the dayroom, spotted the cloud in the hallway, and jumped back. "Holy gently caress! What is that?" "Did you gently caress with ANY of the wheels on the furnace?" I asked. "No." "Don't loving lie to me, soldier." "I didn't." "What did you do with the shovel." The far doors were invisible, and I was sweating hard. It was hot as hell in here. black dirt. Coal. Dust.... "GET EVERYONE OUT OF HERE!" I yelled. It all clicked. What about Tandy? gently caress TANDY! "What's wrong, Private." Captain Bishop asked. "That's goddamn smoke, this place is loving burning down. THAT rear end in a top hat:" I pointed at Plows, "hosed something up down there." "EVERYONE OUT, GET THE gently caress OUT!" Captain Bishop and SPC Plows ran into the dayroom, yelling at everyone to get out. I reached forward and grabbed the door handle, turning around to face everyone. "Everyone at once. We open these doors, and the winds going to come whipping in here, and I don't know what will happen." I said. SFC Vickers pushed me as hard as he could, sending me against the doors and stumbling into the doors to outside. I fell backwards, lost my balance, and tumbled down the steps. I could hear people moving by me, and saw the stairwell door blow open, filling the room with flame. Someone came by me, their BDU's on fire, and I grabbed them and slung them into the snow. "WHERE'S CAPTAIN BISHOP!" I yelled. I heard him call out. "HERE! FORM UP ON ME!" I heard for his voice, which was loud as hell, overriding the wind. "EVERYONE HOLD HANDS, FORM UP ON ME!" I plunged my hands in the snow, finding the guy who'd been on fire, and pulled him up. He screamed in my ear, but I drug him toward the CO's voice. We heard something crumble inside the building, and I bumped into someone. I grabbed a handful of tittie. "Stokes?" I yelled over the wind. "Monkey?" It was her. "SOUND OFF! ADAMS!" "HERE!" We went down the line. "COBB!" No answer. "COBB!" Nothing. "HAS ANYONE SEEN COBB!" I let go of Stokes hand and broke into a run. "Monkey!" she yelled. I ignored her, leaping over the steps, dropping my shoulder and veering to the side of the door. The glass side-windows couldn't be too thick. I went through one, then the other, and felt glass rip at my arms and bald head, but ignored it. first rule, son, is you'll get cut... Flames were roaring up the stairwell, and the door was flapping back and forth. The whole thing was lit up hellishly by the flames. I vaulted over the CQ counter, and landed on a chair, which slid out from under me. My head bounced off the counter as I went down. Susan? I rolled over, unsure of where I was, and got to my feet. the door I stepped forward and kicked it with everything I had. The door burst open, and I was inside, grabbing up Cobb and slinging him over my shoulders. My ribs screamed, but I ignored them as I stumbled out. The goddamn hallway was engulfed in flame, and the stairwell was nothing but a pillar of fire. Coughing, I took a deep breath, held it, and ran through the glass I'd already shattered. Something pulled at my leg, but I kept going, stumbling down the steps and falling, dropping Cobb on the bricks. I slid forward, feeling my hands tear, and slammed head first into the light pole at the end of the walk. I got to my feet, and swung at the figure in front of me. My knuckles rang off his chest, so I swung again, then came forward with a forearm and a knee, both of which he blocked with iron hard limbs. you're fighting the light pole, dumbass I stumbled back, shaking my head. I was dizzy, and it hurt to breathe. Drill Instructor Matthews had just got done kicking my rear end to show me who was top dog... No, wait. I stumbled over, grabbed Cobb, and yelled. "CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?" I knew that wasn't right, but it was all I could think of. "OVER HERE, SOLDIER! FOLLOW MY VOICE!" I followed the CO's bellowing, dragging Cobb with me. My loving leg hurt like a motherfucker. I bumped into someone, and swung. "MOTHERFUCKER!" someone yelled, and grabbed at me. I swung, connected, then my arms were pinned. "Private Monkey, it's OK." Stokes. I knew here. She had nice boobs. "Come on, get in the CUC-V." "I found your boyfriend." I told her brightly. "I found Cobb. I couldn't find Tandy." A light shined in my eyes. "gently caress, he's got a concussion, get him in the truck." They pulled me over to a truck, I tried to fight for a second, then realized what was going on. "Oh gently caress, his knee." I looked down. There was a chunk of glass sticking out of the side of my knee. "Ain't that some poo poo." I said, and passed out. I limped behind the CQ, who was patient. My head was bandaged, as was my hands, and I was on crutches, but I'd gotten Cobb out. I'd lost all my worldly possessions. He opened a door, and said something to the person inside, and I crutched up to him. Another soldier looked at me, a cigarette hanging from his mouth. "Got a smoke?" I rasped. My throat hurt from the smoke. He nodded, staring at the bandages on my head. He lit one and handed it to me. I didn't smoke, but I didn't want him to sit there and smoke alone. "I'm Private Monkey." I told him, and he moved aside so I could get into the room. "Sergeant Tanner. You look like hell, Monkey." he said. "I'll clear the bottom bunk for you." I nodded tiredly, and stood there while he stripped the bed. "You have any blankets?" "No." "poo poo, you can use mine, man." he left the blankets on the bed, and I crutched up and sat down, groaning when the movement pulled at my sore ribs. I swung my legs into the bed, and pulled one of the blankets over me. I put my boots on the bed rail, and relaxed, feeling the painkillers do their work. "Umm, I snore pretty bad." Tanner told me. "No problem." I replied. I closed my eyes and went to sleep. It was temporary housing, another unit had offered to put us up. It was warm. It was quiet. I opened my eyes once, and saw the glint off the hilt of the dagger in my boot. gently caress it. I slept. EPILOGUE It was spring, the majority of the snow was gone, and late March was warm. We'd moved out to one of the training areas, and said it was Pre-ARTEP. Our new barracks had been finished being built, and the construction workers had found the LT about 250 feet from the building when the snow melted far enough. He'd gotten turned around and froze to death. I was sporting Corporal rank, and nobody had bitched one bit when I was jumped two pay grades. It had taken two months of physical therapy to get rid of my limp, but I'd blown the PT test away. I sat in the tent, listening to the radio, and calling each guard post in turn. Not bad, I was a mere Corporal, and they let me pull Sergeant of the Guard, put me in charge of the QRF, and had given me my own squad. Nobody believed us when we told the stories in the NCO club. Everyone blew it off, called us liars, but we talked about it to each other. It drew an invisible line between those of us who had gone through it, and those who had arrived after. Smith had fully recovered. Just first degree burns on his head and hands. He constantly claimed that the building tried to get him, since "the black guy always dies" in the scary movies. That was his claim to fame. He was black, and he'd survived. The charges SFC Vickers had tried to press on me had fallen flat. I'd been concussed pretty badly, and the dispensary had kept me for 2 days for observation after pulling the glass out of my forearms and knee. To top it off, when his reenlistment date came up, the Army declined his services, and he was put out. Captain Bishop had never forgotten that he'd shoved me out of the way, bringing in fresh air for the fire to feed off. Captain Bishop had made me turn in the SS dagger, but had bought me a heavy duty Gerber fighting knife as a gift. I rode in my boot, and nobody had ever told me I couldn't wear it there. Even when the platoon was at full strength, and we had a platoon sergeant and a platoon leader. Both the SFC and the 2LT had let the fact I was carrying a knife ride. So it was in the middle of Pre-ARTEP, in late March, and it was about 0900. I'd been on duty for about an hour, when OP Two called in that they'd found something, and needed me to come out there right away. I asked them what it was, and they insisted that I come out there. loving privates. I left Mann in charge of the TC, and headed out there with the walkie-talkie on my belt. My M-16A1/M-203 was slung over my shoulder, and my kevlar was a comfortable weight. I only had on my flak jacket, my field jacket, my winter BDU's and my long johns. The newbies all bitched about the cold, but poo poo, at least I didn't need a loving parka inside the loving barracks. I went out past the perimeter, and into the bushes. I paused for a second to light a cigarette. I didn't smoke, but the air was cold, and having a cigarette warmed it before it hit my chest and made me cough. I closed the zippo Cobb had given me with a snap, and headed out toward OP2. Veering around a bush, I called out to OP2 that I was heading in. Two days ago, some overzealous private had taken a shot at me when I forgot to call to them. We had live ammunition, poo poo, we had to with all the goddamn ammo we were guarding, but that didn't mean he could shoot at me. "We're over here, Corporal." One of the privates said. I followed his voice, and came out into the clearing they were standing in. The three of them were standing in front of something that I couldn't see. Something in the dead leaves and winter grass. "What the gently caress are you guys doing out of the OP." I asked. "Private Thomas came out here to take a piss, and look what he found, Corporal!" The kid's voice was high pitched. I moved forward and looked down. Tandy grinned up at me. "Why was all the spooky poo poo happening every 45 minutes then?" Ice would form in between the walls, on the support beams, but the vents for the heating system leaked badly from the rats and age (which is why the barracks never got warm) and the ice would weaken at the base, and come crashing down, cooling the vents, and the ice would build up again. That noise I kept hearing, and other people kept mentioning as almost able to hear right before the crashing? The ice breaking free. That was my theory. I tried to figure out the phones, but crossed wires is all I can think of. If I'd been thinking straight, I'd have checked the other lines, and found out which of the others had the hissing noise in it. It was rythmic from the hot air blowing out of a hole in one of the vents, and pushing the wires together. The only mystery that was never solved, that the Army just wrote up and ignored, was the fact that Tandy had supposedly wandered just over 6 miles, in a blizzard, dressed only in his BDU's. I'd been out there when we dug the foxhole for OP2. I'd stood right where they found Tandy. I never saw him. When it went around that we found him, Stokes, Cobb, Mann, Smith, me, and a few others had nightmares that he had shambled from where he had frozen to death, around the mountain, and was coming to get us. We had dreams of him bursting into the tent while we were sleeping. What happened to Tandy? Officially: Death due to exposure. To us? The building got him.
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Oct 3, 2022 22:19
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| # ? Apr 29, 2024 00:00 |
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Wait, was 50 Foot Ant a re-reg? Because I managed to find the original thread I found this in and the poster was Humper-Monkey. Or was there more than one Nazi barracks story posted over the years?
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Oct 3, 2022 22:23
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