We Left the Lights On: The Pistol

When you deploy to the desert, you get issued a gun.  For better or for worse, you are essentially married to this thing.  You must carry your weapon at all times and you must take it wherever you go.  This includes the chow hall and the bathroom.  The only exception is when President Obama visits and makes everyone either leave their guns outside the dining facility or vacate the premise.  Needless to say, I left.

Carrying a gun was a basic requirement and took place regardless of your specialty or job.  You simply had to take care of the weapon whether you felt comfortable around guns or not.

This is not a bad idea in theory considering that the only thing between you and the enemy is a chain-link fence and a poop ditch.  And that's if you're lucky.

Photo:  Of course the Afghans bedazzled their poop trucks...

But that's the problem with theory:  reality.  Because in reality we had a bunch of gun-toking maintainers who would consistently leave their weapons on buses (driven by third country nationals) or in the chow halls (manned by third country nationals) or in the bathroom (serviced by third country nationals).  Now third country nationals are, in theory, vetted and considered safe to work on the installation.  That doesn't mean they won't take the opportunity to kill you if they find a gun by the urinal though.

So, unfortunately, we had to issue paperwork to folks who left guns at bus stops or around the compound.  I didn't like doing it, but the alternative (being dead) was much worse.

Then one evening when I stumbled into work (my hours were roughly 1600 until 0400) I found my immediate supervisor (who we'll affectionally call Captain Cockeyes) already gone.  No turnover.  No heads-up as to what had happened that day.  Just gone.

Except for one thing:  his gun.

Photo:  Seriously?!

Now he had left like this before and forgotten his coat (which I filled with rocks) and his notes (which I shredded) and his care packages (which I distributed to the guys) and his identification card (which I ransomed for food), but never his gun.

Before you judge me, just know there was a long/short (or perhaps a brief/intense) history with this individual that I will dive into later; right or wrong I felt justified in my previous behaviors.  This time, however, I had hit the jackpot.

Video clip:  I couldn't have set my situation up any better than these guys!

I debated and discussed the potential courses of action with my Senior and Chief, because no matter the situation they have the experience and have seen it all (both maintenance and mischief).

They persuaded me not to rat him out to the commander (Major Tormentor) or the operations officer (Major Panties), but instead helped me hatch a plan to hide the gun in the ceiling tiles and draw a map.

I just want to take a moment to let everyone know that I now realize this entire sequence of events was a horrible idea and I take full responsibility for being a dumb and immature lieutenant.

So at the end of my shift I hid the gun and told one of my other supervisors where the gun was (four tiles west and three tiles north) so that Captain Cockeyes would learn his lesson, but not doom everyone to a day of his unreasonable mood swings.

Despite my best intentions, he ended up blowing his stack and acting even more irrationally than he normally did throughout that day.

So when turnover came around you bet your bippy he was there.  But he didn't lay into me, he laid into my Senior.

He took this grown man away from the turnover meeting (which took place near the turd vaporization trucks) and proceeded to yell at him.  When I approached to take the blame he told me to leave and continued to berate the Senior.

To this day I still feel awful that I did not more forcefully say it was me.  Fortunately, I didn't lose any friends over the incident and Captain Cockeyes proceeded to screw up even more monumentally than anyone could have ever predicted, which left me feeling even more justified for acting like an immature brat.

So at the end of the day I made out pretty okay and learned a really important lesson:  sheer incompetence gets you promoted.

Oh sorry, did I forget to mention that Major Cockeyes is currently a squadron commander?

Well I don't want to get too ahead of myself; more stories are in order to prove the above point.