Confronting the Enemy

I was a scared soldier. “About booger caught,” grandpa would have said. I was young. I was holding an M-16. I had been left to guard an ancient white wooden World War II era building on a cold and windy night. And I had been given four rounds for my weapon. This was not just parking lot duty, this was real. “Do not hesitate to use the security phone and call for help,” the duty sergeant had said. And then he had ridden off, leaving me here on the back side of nowhere with shadows dancing all around. The wind rattled gate of the ten foot tall razor wire topped chain link fence caused my young imagination to suspect teams of Russian special ops guys were slowly sneaking up on me. And then it happened!

On about my tenth round of the building, I heard a noise from within the building itself! I was on the west side and there was one small door with a large glass window in it on this side. The noise was coming from within there! My mouth went dry and my knees begin to shake. I suddenly needed to urinate, badly. My trembling hand locked and loaded the clip into the M-16 almost of its own accord. I slowly started towards the door. The security phone was on the other end of the building by the front door…no doubt, if they had gained access to the building, they would see me try to use it and kill me!

  Metallic knockings came from within the room. “They’re trying to break into the main part of the building!” I thought. I inched up to the door from the side, straining my eyes to look through the window into the darkened interior. Nothing! I could see nothing! But I could hear them, they were there! I had failed! Suddenly… with a huge swoosh and whir the small room seemed to explode with noise!  My finger tightened on the trigger, only for me to discover that the safety was still on!

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Weak with relief, I continued leaning against the building and fought the urge to empty my bladder then and there. The battle between the top and bottom of my dried out throat ended in a coughing stalemate. Later, I sheepishly unloaded my weapon and resolved that no one would ever know how close I had come to shooting up the antiquated heating system of an old building.  

CB

This is a true story... it happened in  1975. And yes, it was me.  It was a very cold, lonely night and I was a young 18 year old still-in-training soldier, not long out of high school.  I can not tell you how awfully glad I am that I did not shoot up that old building... I never would have been able to live that humiliation down. This is the first time this story has been publicly told by me. Feel free to laugh...I do....now. :) cb