Tent poles – yes sir!

In April 1959, Fort Benning, Georgia, we were preparing to go on bivouac. Our platoon sergeant had us in formation to see if we had everything we needed for this part of our training. He asked me if I had all of my gear. I told him I had not been issued all of my tent poles. “I suggest you’d better crap them, soldier!” he said. I went to a friend in another troop and borrowed the poles I needed.

The next day the sergeant got nose-to-nose with me and asked if I had gotten the poles I needed. Yes, I told him, I had. Then he asked me where I had gotten them. “I crapped them, sergeant,” I answered.

From his response, I don’t think he liked my answer; his eyes got big, and he spun around and went on.

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