I’m interrupting the normal flow of random insanity, that I sling carelessly on this site, to share a true story of an incident that occurred while on my first tour in Iraq with the U.S. Army. (I’ve completed 2 tours and unlocked various achievements in the form of still being alive and keeping all of my limbs.) Actually, this happened in Kuwait a few weeks before I went to Baghdad.
Just chilling in Kuwait. Sup with you?
Camp Virgina, March 12th, 2003. 0115 hrs.
Our camp was in the desert, a few miles away from the Iraqi border. We slept in a tent that occupied 100 soldiers. Each soldier’s personal space and sleeping area consisted of how far they could reach while laying on their cot. It was hot, cramped and when the lights were off; dark as fuck. I always slept with my weapon by my side and a flashlight in hand. On this particular night when I most needed it; my flashlight was nowhere to be found. I woke up with the most painful urge to pee in my entire life. Having been forced to drink over a gallon of water to keep from dehydrating, my bladder was ready to explode. I snapped my eyes open and strained to see in the dark. I could faintly see outlines. My night vision was horrible. I fumbled around my personal space for my flashlight. A wave of panic struck me. I couldn’t find it. I needed it to see so I could get the fuck outside. Maybe if my cot was located near one of the flaps leading out, I would be ok, but no. I was positioned in the far corner with 99 soldiers and their crap blocking my escape to freedom and relief. Every second that passed, a sharp pain would run across my abdomen. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” I stood up and felt around. I bumped into cots, duffel bags, a camel spider (probably), and anything else that fate found funny to use as an obstacle. I was wearing physical training clothes which consisted of a baggy gray t-shirt and some gay looking black shorts. My eyes started to adjust and I could faintly see light peering through the exit to my far right. That’s when it happened.
Sweet Agonizing Victory and Failure
The warm sensation that produced both salvation and sheer terror ran down my leg at 90 mph. It felt horrifically good. At this point, I wanted nothing more than to jump mercilessly on top of a grenade before anybody could realize that I just peed myself. I froze and waited. Nothing. No lights clicked on. No sounds of uncontrollable laughter. Nothing – just me standing in a pool of shame. I didn’t bother to clean up the mess. My liquid dignity seeped through the wooden floor and disappeared into the Kuwaiti sand. I continued outside and ran past some guards on watch to the nearest port-a-john. I threw my pee soaked underwear into the gaping void that was sure to destroy any evidence by getting lost in contents nobody would dare search through. Shit. War Shit. Hardcore motherfucking, unleash the Kraken type shit. Fuck Mount Orodruin, Frodo should have just tossed the ring in that bitch.
I walked back to my tent free of shame and with a sense of relief. An hour later, the sirens went off and the lights cut on. Saddam had launched scud missiles into Kuwait and we were forced to don our NBC suits and run into bunkers. Nobody noticed the pee stained floor nor complained about the smell since we all had gas masks on. Thank you Saddam.. By trying to kill me, you saved me from embarrassment.
Side Note: That night we caught a male and female officer having sex in one the bunkers. Pretty sweet.