Swashbuckler
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Case Study: The Soul Plane Incident
- Thread starter Marauder06
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LibraryLady
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From the back of your bus, you here someone say, “I think I’m going to be sick.” As you turn to see what’s happening, a Soldier in the back of the bus lunges across a seat and hurls a stream of vomit out the window and onto the tarmac. Most of it, at least. Some of it ricochets off of the window and onto a person in the seat next to him. This causes that unfortunate individual to throw up as well, and the sight and sound of the vomiting from the back of the bus, combined with the heat and smell already present, causes a chain reaction of vomiting up and down the bus. This causes an unstoppable stampede of people off the bus and onto the tarmac, where the vomiting continues a bit before tapering off. You feel your mouth watering uncontrollably, which you know is a precursor to you losing your lunch, but you manage to keep everything down. Thinking it was time to board the plane, the other buses began disgorging their riders when they saw you getting off. As everyone stands around looking at you expectantly, you tell the driver that unless he wants to clean up three inches of projectile vomit from inside his bus, he’ll either let you guys on the plane, or take you back to the terminal. After a brief discussion with his supervisor over the radio, the decision is made to return all of you to the terminal. As you board the bus, Paul waves to get your attention. He indicates himself and his team, and then point towards the aircraft. If he wants his guys to stay out here and bake on the tarmac, fine. That's eight fewer people you have to worry about before the plane takes off.
Several people stood in the center aisle on the drive back to the terminal in order to avoid the splattered vomit. When the bus pulls in to let you out, you realize that someone is going to need to clean this mess up. That’s when you notice that MSG Rush has slept through the whole thing. That’s fine, you’ll grab the nearest NCO and ask him to organize a detail to get all the puke cleaned up. Looks like the nearest NCO is… you look around… SGT Douchet. Oh HELL no. That’s cool, just think what would an NCO do in this kind of situation?
“Listen up!”you shout over the noise of the bus engine. “If you puked on this bus, go get some paper towels and some water out of the restroom, and clean this shit up! You know who you are. Oh, and someone find some air freshener or something.” That ought to do it.
SPC DeSilva helps MSG Rush off the bus and into a chair at the terminal. A young troop dressed in an Air Force uniform approaches and informs you that the fuel spill is a bit more serious that first thought, and it will be at least an hour before you can board the plane. You ask for and are led to an office with an international phone so you can call back to Iraq and to your home station to let them know you’ve been delayed- again. When you get back, you notice something… odd. There are not nearly as many people in the terminal as there should be. Wait a minute, where the hell is Douchet? For that matter, where is hell is… everyone???
Several people stood in the center aisle on the drive back to the terminal in order to avoid the splattered vomit. When the bus pulls in to let you out, you realize that someone is going to need to clean this mess up. That’s when you notice that MSG Rush has slept through the whole thing. That’s fine, you’ll grab the nearest NCO and ask him to organize a detail to get all the puke cleaned up. Looks like the nearest NCO is… you look around… SGT Douchet. Oh HELL no. That’s cool, just think what would an NCO do in this kind of situation?
“Listen up!”you shout over the noise of the bus engine. “If you puked on this bus, go get some paper towels and some water out of the restroom, and clean this shit up! You know who you are. Oh, and someone find some air freshener or something.” That ought to do it.
SPC DeSilva helps MSG Rush off the bus and into a chair at the terminal. A young troop dressed in an Air Force uniform approaches and informs you that the fuel spill is a bit more serious that first thought, and it will be at least an hour before you can board the plane. You ask for and are led to an office with an international phone so you can call back to Iraq and to your home station to let them know you’ve been delayed- again. When you get back, you notice something… odd. There are not nearly as many people in the terminal as there should be. Wait a minute, where the hell is Douchet? For that matter, where is hell is… everyone???
You relax a bit when you realize that everyone not in the terminal is probably out helping clean the buses. It’s good to see some initative and teamwork, hell even Douchet is probably pitching in. Maybe you were wrong about him. You look for your friend CPT Jones, but he’s nowhere to be found. Nor are any of your warrant officers around. In fact, other than a couple of very junior NCOs, there are no leaders to be found anywhere. Even MSG Rush is gone. Not seeing your warrant officers makes you feel a little suspicious. They’re great at their jobs, but you don’t think any of them would willingly get their hands dirty doing something like cleaning puke off of a bus floor, especially if they didn’t contribute to the mess in the first place.
Just about the time you start getting worried, you see a group of people returning from the buses. SPC DeSilva approaches, clutching an armful of cleaning supplies. You look for but do not see MSG Rush, your warrant officers, or anyone over the rank of E5. “All done sir, everything cleaned up and smelling nice. Well, ‘nice-er,’ at least,” he says, smiling. That’s a good troop, DeSilva. Deserves to be wearing sergeant’s chevrons far more than a lot of people who currently have them, including Douchet. Hm, maybe you can talk the Group CSM into swapping their ranks when you all get back, you muse.
“Great job DeSilva, where is everyone else?” you ask. DeSilva looks away, you’re clearly not going to like what he has to say. “Come on, out with it.”
“I don’t know sir, but I heard CPT Jones and Chief Rollins say something about going back over to the club. “That figures,” you sigh loudly.
“What about MSG Rush?” you enquire. “ Surely he didn’t go back over to the club too?”
“Sir, last I saw him was when we were getting up to clean the buses , he woke up and said he needed to pee. I got him pointed in the right direction, and last I saw him he was kind of staggering off in that direction,” DeSilva points towards the restrooms. That was… 20 minutes or so ago you figure, glancing at your watch. Poor guy probably fell asleep on the crapper.
Just as you’re about to walk down to the rest room and rescue MSG Rush, a page over the terminal intercom asks you to report to the information desk. “Look,” you say to DeSilva, “Please go over to the club and tell all of those clowns to get back over here RIGHT f-ing NOW! The last thing I need is a bunch of drunk Soldiers staggering around and passing out once the Ambien kicks in. When you get back, make sure MSG Rush made it out of the bathroom. I’m going to go find out what’s going on, and I’ll meet all of you back here.”
DeSilva moves out smartly and you find your way to the phone. A decidedly unfriendly voice at the other end summons you to airfield commander’s office. This can’t be good. Hopefully it’s just the commander telling you that you and your Soldiers are going to be stuck here overnight. You check in with the commander’s secretary and wait in the anteroom outside the commander’s office. Judging by all the yelling going on behind the closed door, whatever is going on in there, someone is NOT happy.
The door abruptly opens, and a vaguely familiar Air Force NCO emerges, shutting the door quickly behind him. It takes you a second, but you recognize him as the guy who came to the club to tell MSG Rush about Douchet. “Hey staff sergeant,” you say, “what happened?” it would be a lot better for you to go in there to face the colonel if you know what you’re about to get your ass chewed over.
“Oh sir,” he says, looking almost pale, “One of your NCOs got really drunk and went into one of the office cubicles, pulled out his junk, and peed all over someone’s keyboard.” Dumbfounded, all you can say is, “What?” “Yes sir,” he continues, “and the colonel is PISSED. You better go in there right now.” Steaming mad, you know that there is only one person in your unit DUMB enough to get drunk and pee all over someone else’s office. So that explains what happened to Douchet. But where was MSG Rush? Taking a deep breath, you open the door and prepare to take the music…
Just about the time you start getting worried, you see a group of people returning from the buses. SPC DeSilva approaches, clutching an armful of cleaning supplies. You look for but do not see MSG Rush, your warrant officers, or anyone over the rank of E5. “All done sir, everything cleaned up and smelling nice. Well, ‘nice-er,’ at least,” he says, smiling. That’s a good troop, DeSilva. Deserves to be wearing sergeant’s chevrons far more than a lot of people who currently have them, including Douchet. Hm, maybe you can talk the Group CSM into swapping their ranks when you all get back, you muse.
“Great job DeSilva, where is everyone else?” you ask. DeSilva looks away, you’re clearly not going to like what he has to say. “Come on, out with it.”
“I don’t know sir, but I heard CPT Jones and Chief Rollins say something about going back over to the club. “That figures,” you sigh loudly.
“What about MSG Rush?” you enquire. “ Surely he didn’t go back over to the club too?”
“Sir, last I saw him was when we were getting up to clean the buses , he woke up and said he needed to pee. I got him pointed in the right direction, and last I saw him he was kind of staggering off in that direction,” DeSilva points towards the restrooms. That was… 20 minutes or so ago you figure, glancing at your watch. Poor guy probably fell asleep on the crapper.
Just as you’re about to walk down to the rest room and rescue MSG Rush, a page over the terminal intercom asks you to report to the information desk. “Look,” you say to DeSilva, “Please go over to the club and tell all of those clowns to get back over here RIGHT f-ing NOW! The last thing I need is a bunch of drunk Soldiers staggering around and passing out once the Ambien kicks in. When you get back, make sure MSG Rush made it out of the bathroom. I’m going to go find out what’s going on, and I’ll meet all of you back here.”
DeSilva moves out smartly and you find your way to the phone. A decidedly unfriendly voice at the other end summons you to airfield commander’s office. This can’t be good. Hopefully it’s just the commander telling you that you and your Soldiers are going to be stuck here overnight. You check in with the commander’s secretary and wait in the anteroom outside the commander’s office. Judging by all the yelling going on behind the closed door, whatever is going on in there, someone is NOT happy.
The door abruptly opens, and a vaguely familiar Air Force NCO emerges, shutting the door quickly behind him. It takes you a second, but you recognize him as the guy who came to the club to tell MSG Rush about Douchet. “Hey staff sergeant,” you say, “what happened?” it would be a lot better for you to go in there to face the colonel if you know what you’re about to get your ass chewed over.
“Oh sir,” he says, looking almost pale, “One of your NCOs got really drunk and went into one of the office cubicles, pulled out his junk, and peed all over someone’s keyboard.” Dumbfounded, all you can say is, “What?” “Yes sir,” he continues, “and the colonel is PISSED. You better go in there right now.” Steaming mad, you know that there is only one person in your unit DUMB enough to get drunk and pee all over someone else’s office. So that explains what happened to Douchet. But where was MSG Rush? Taking a deep breath, you open the door and prepare to take the music…
Swashbuckler
Unverified
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- May 15, 2011
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- 19
:eek:
:eek:
Thank you for giving up Saturday morning cartoons to continue the story.
Dame off the top rope with the spoiler! ;) well done.
/////
When you open the door, you’re relieved to see MSG Rush seated with his back to you in a chair in front of the colonel’s desk. Since Douchet is absent, you assume he’s probably back in the cooling tank that they put him in the first time he got in trouble. The colonel, whose name tape reads “Stack,” is standing. And he is, as advertised, PISSED. You extend your hand, which he ignores, choosing instead to immediately launch into a tirade that is a bit hard to follow but includes a lot of “yes, sir” and “no, sir” from you at the appropriate places. When he’s done, you apologize profusely. “Sir, what happened is inexcusable. I assure you that I will take appropriate action, including UCMJ, to address this issue. If you want to point me to where you’re keeping the guy who did this, my NCOIC and I will get this all straightened out.”
The colonel looks at you, his face an odd combination of rage incredulity. “What are you talking about?” he asks.
“The guy who did this, sir,” you respond, “Douchet.”
“Captain, the ‘guy who did this’ is sitting right there!” he bellows, pointing at MSG Rush. That can’t be right. MSG Rush had quite a bit to drink in the club, but no more than any of the rest of you. Then you understand. It is likely that MSG Rush has had a bad reaction to the Ambien. It’s likely that he’s in a kind of sleepwalking state right now, and has no idea what he’s doing. He looks stoned out of his mind. Was it one pill or two that Doc Cho told you to hand out? One? How many did MSG Rush take, two? Twice the dose… no wonder things went bad. Then something really disconcerning crosses your mind. If this happened to a squared-away NCO like MSG Rush, what is going to happen to the rest of your guys, the ones who are partying it up at the club? You hope DeSilva managed to get everyone back here before someone else did something stupid.
“Both of you, come with me,” Stack snaps. You help MSG Rush to his feet and follow the colonel down a hallway to the “scene of the crime,” an office directly across the hall from the restroom. While groggy, MSG Rush is still able to move under his own power at a decent pace, which is fortunate because he’s kind of big. “What were you thinking?” you hiss at Rush, as you make your way down the hallway. “I had to pee,” he mutters back, incoherently.
COL Stack bursts into an office, and the door closely automatically behind him before you and MSG Rush can follow him in. A sign on the door reads, “Back after lunch.” When you open the door and enter, you see a small office lined with cubicles on the right and left. Well, the way the cubicles are configured, they do kind of look like urinals. And the office’s proximity to the restroom… COL Stack looks confused. Apparently he wanted to confront you with the evidence of what had transpired, but if anyone had pissed all over a desk in this office, there is no evidence of it. All of the desktops are pristine, and even the air smells nice. The carpet is a very dark indoor/outdoor type, and even if their were stains, you can’t see them. Stack stares at you, and you look back. It now appears that some of his anger is replaced by a bit of embarrassment. Whatever he wanted to do in this office, he feels like he can’t do it now. “Your buses will be back in 20 minutes, you and your people are going to wait on the tarmac until your plane takes off. If there are any more incidents of any type between now and the time your flight leaves, I’m going to ground the plane and you’re all going to be staying here until the next flight leaves, which isn’t until Monday. Now get out of my sight!” Relieved, you get MSG Rush turned around and moving towards the terminal. You need to get everyone out of this terminal NOW. “Oh, and captain,” COL Stack says menacingly as you walk away, “I want to see you in my office before you depart my terminal.”
Yep; good looking out. ;)
You get MSG Rush seated in a chair and see DeSilva standing nearby, a big smile on his face. “Where the hell is everyone?” you growl, grumpily. “Didn’t I send you over to the club 15 minutes ago?” DeSilva’s smile evaporates. “Sorry sir, something came up and I had to take care of it right away,” he mutters. You notice Douchet standing beside him. “Where the fuck have you been??” before Douchet can answer, DeSliva chimes in, “He was with me sir. I needed him to help me with something.”
“You needed him to help you with something that was more important than doing what I told you to do? Got to do every f-ing thing around myself,” you snap. “Tell you what, stay here and make sure no one else wanders off. And if anyone has to pee, tell them it’s down that hallway, first door on the LEFT, not the RIGHT,” and you stomp off towards the club.
By the time you get to the club, you are in a completely foul mood. Everything is going wrong, and people you have counted on for months are letting you down, on the last day before you return home. Loud music and cheering emanate from the closed doors of the all-ranks club, and just before you fling the doors open, you think there is nothing that can put you in a worse mood than the one you’re in right now.
You get MSG Rush seated in a chair and see DeSilva standing nearby, a big smile on his face. “Where the hell is everyone?” you growl, grumpily. “Didn’t I send you over to the club 15 minutes ago?” DeSilva’s smile evaporates. “Sorry sir, something came up and I had to take care of it right away,” he mutters. You notice Douchet standing beside him. “Where the fuck have you been??” before Douchet can answer, DeSliva chimes in, “He was with me sir. I needed him to help me with something.”
“You needed him to help you with something that was more important than doing what I told you to do? Got to do every f-ing thing around myself,” you snap. “Tell you what, stay here and make sure no one else wanders off. And if anyone has to pee, tell them it’s down that hallway, first door on the LEFT, not the RIGHT,” and you stomp off towards the club.
By the time you get to the club, you are in a completely foul mood. Everything is going wrong, and people you have counted on for months are letting you down, on the last day before you return home. Loud music and cheering emanate from the closed doors of the all-ranks club, and just before you fling the doors open, you think there is nothing that can put you in a worse mood than the one you’re in right now.
Maybe... ;)
/////
That’s before you throw open the door to the club and see Chief Rollins up on stage with Esmerelda. Rollins has taken her uniform top off and turned her brown t-shirt into a halter top by running the hem of the front of her shirt down through the neck and pulling it between her breasts. If the condition of her torso is any indication, Chief Rollins has been working out since she was in Iraq- working out a lot. She is holding the arms of her uniform top out in front of her, doing a pretty fair imitation of Esmerelda as the latter does her scarf-dancing routine. First Esmerelda would do a step, and wait for Chief Rollins to imitate. Both women seem to be enjoying themselves enormously, and, judging from the cheering, the crowd is enjoying the show as well.
Oh now, c'mon. You just can't bust Rollins for making sure everyone is entertained and out of trouble. She's even dressed. That's just innocent fun, that is.
Tell that to the Sergeant Major when we get home on Monday ;)
/////
It takes a minute for your brain to absorb that yes, this is actually happening; you CI warrant officer is actually on stage doing a routine with a Spanish stripper. Dancer. Whatever. With the one dancing and then the other imitating, it reminds you of “Dueling Banjos” only… with breasts. This would probably be comical if it wasn’t for the fact that she was an officer, and one of your officers on top of that. “This can’t be happening,” you think as you storm over to the stage. You reach the stage floor as the routine ends and the crowd erupts in raucous applause. Chief Rollins has a huge smile on her face, right up to the point where you grab her by the arm and say in a voice loud enough to be heard above the din, “Have you lost. Your. God. Damned. MIND????”
“What?” she protests, “I was only having a good time!”
“Yes, you were having a good time on stage with Esmerelda, the Spanish stripper! What the hell are you thinking!”
“Hey,” a new voice chimes in, “Let me tell you something,” a small but firm hand grabs your arm and spins you around. You are now face to face with Esmerelda, who is surprisingly tall for a dancer. She heard you call her a stripper, you’re definitely in for it now. “I am NOT,” she exclaims emphatically, “Spanish. I’m Portuguese. And my real name is Teresa, Esmerelda is only my stage name.” Whether a lack of denial about being a stripper was deliberate or an oversight, you don’t know. All you can think of to say is, “Noted.” You pull Chief Rollins’ shirt back down and toss her uniform top at her before nudging her towards the door. The crowd begins to boo loudly, and it seems like they’re blocking the exit.
By now the booing is getting louder, and no one seems to be in a hurry to let you and Chief Rollins too. You notice that some of the booing is coming from your own troops. This is really the last straw. Grabbing a microphone from the stage, you shout as loud as you can, “EVERYBODY SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY. IF YOU WORK FOR ME, OUR PLANE LEAVES IN 15 MINUTES, AND IF YOU’RE NOT AT MANIFEST CALL BEFORE THEN, I WILL FUCKING LEAVE YOUR ASS HERE!!!” As it turns out, the microphone wasn’t even on, but you were loud enough and assertive enough to get to the point across. The crowd parts a bit and you and your Soldiers are able to elbow your way through to the door. “Dick” someone calls out to you as you make your way through, and some other wag jostles you with a shoulder. You resist the urge to punch him straight in the throat.
I'm sure he meant it as a term of endearment. At least he didn't call me a pogue. ;)
She didn't, until you guys suggested it.
/////
Once you’re sure you have everyone, you start loading them on the buses to take them to your plane- again. This time, you wisely decide not to hand out any Ambien, although several of your troops are showing the effects of the drug. While you’re waiting for the buses to load, you have a chance to talk to DeSilva. You’re still pretty pissed off at him for not going and getting everyone when you told him too. Maybe if he had, Chief Rollins wouldn’t have become part of the floor show. “So what was so important that you and Douchet had to run off together?” you ask.
“Well sir, there was an accident that needed to be taken care of, and there weren’t really any other NCOs around, so Douchet and I went and did it,” he replies evasively.
“What kind of accident?” you press.
“You see, what had happened was, someone got a little confused about what side of the hallway the bathrooms were on, and you know those little cubicle thingies, if you look at them just right, they kind of look like pissers. So someone got a little confused and had an accident on someone’s desk. The Air Force guys didn’t take that very well, and I wanted to make sure no one made a big deal of it, because sir, it really wasn’t a big deal.”
“You cleaned up after MSG Rush, didn’t you?” you ask.
“Well sir, I’m not saying who did or didn’t do anything-“
“Relax DeSilva, I’m not asking you to snitch, I already know what happened, in fact I already got my ass chewed by the colonel for it,” you say, calmingly. DeSilva looks enormously relieved.
“Sir, you should have seen that place, pee everywhere! I think MSG Rush must have been holding it all day, to build that much up. You should have seen the faces of those Air Force guys. Fortunately, MSG Rush picked a desk where no one was currently working in,” he gushes.
“But how did you get everything cleaned up so well?” you enquire.
“Well, I was on my way to put away the cleaning supplies we used on the buses when I heard some screaming coming from the office across from the restroom. I opened the door, and there was MSG Rush, giving a golden shower to a keyboard. There were a couple of people working in the office at the time, they kind of figured it was a good time to go to lunch, so I got some guys together and we got it cleaned up as best we could.”
“But how did you get the keyboard so clean?” you ask incredulously.
“Clean it? Are you kidding me?” he responds. That thing was BEYOND disgusting. I replaced it with a keyboard from another office and pitched the old one into the dumpster once we were done cleaning up.”
“How did you dry the floor?”
“Oh, the floor’s not really that dry, it’s just so dark you can’t tell where it’s wet unless you really look at it,” he answers. “We got up what we could, but it’s going to smell VERY bad in there on Monday morning.
“You know, you really helped us all out on this one,” you tell him. “DeSilva, I’m putting you in for a medal when we get back home,” you joke.
He looks at you slyly, “I’d settle for a four-day pass,” he says. You are notoriously stingy about giving out passes, since most of your Soldiers are carrying use-or-lose leave.
“Done.”
As the buses prepare to pull away from the terminal, you feel your mood improving. As bad as things got there for a while, no one got hurt, nothing got broken (well, nothing important anyway) and you’ll all soon be on your way home. Yet you can’t shake that nagging feeling that you’re forgetting something.
Dame
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Didn't they already load back up before the buses went back to the terminal?
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