Basic, may of '15. According to my DS, I had bottom of the barrel genetics. This resulted in me dislocating my knee during our 2 mile road march. I got to sick call, and get put on crutches. We had a DS, DS W, he was a real bad ass airborne DS. Being in basic for 11b he didn't take it easy on us. He kinda had it out for me.He noticed me dicking around on my crutches one day. He then proceeded to tell me that any time I was not in formation, I was to be a car and gave me the nick name "hot wheels". I had to make car noises every where I went. Not just the engine, but changing gears, the screeching of tires when I came to a stop, the full deal. One day after chow another private got injured and was on crutches to.
Well the race was on, he lined us up next to each other for a drag race. We took off fast as f*ck, because even though we were on crutches, we weren't above being smoked. As I hauled ass and shifted into about third gear, the private I was racing was uncoordinated as f*ck. His crutch caught mine, we both came down in a twisted pile of sh*tbag private and crutches. I think every DS in the entire company was there. Everyone was laughing way too hard to help either of us up, despite the amount of pain we were in.I still think I won that race.