No sh*t there I was, balls deep in BCT. We had been briefed the previous afternoon on the duties and responsibilities of each fire guard shift throughout the night and how they were ALL expected to be done and were to be inspected the next morning. All I was thinking was yeah right, there's no f*cking way you'll have enough time to do all that sh*t AND skull fuck us at the same time before PT. (Boy was I wrong)Upon waking up at 0330 the next morning by the sound of a bullhorn and encouraging words from our SDS, I was quickly reminded that I was no greater than the ground I walked on. DS "H" headed straight for the laundry room.A duty of one of the fire guard shifts was to clean the lint traps in all the dryers before morning. Guess what wasn't done?
So DS "H" comes out with a giant ball of lint and stops every one of our stupid asses from breathing to politely ask, "which one of you sorry excuses for a human being f*cked the platoon by not cleaning out the goddamn lint traps?".Somebody owned up to it, not that it fucking mattered."No problem privates, meet Larry the lint ball. You will carry him everyday as an inspectable item. You will feed him, talk to him, and motivate him!"We passed a zip lock bag containing a lint ball around for 10 weeks. He became the plt mascot. On the morning of graduation we were instructed on how a military funeral worked and then had to bury the damn thing behind the barracks on Sand Hill.Now every time I do laundry I remember Larry.