I had no sooner posted my last entry when I realized I forgot one of the best things that happened in ITR (infantry training regiment).
Well, it may not have been the "best" thing, but it was certainly the funniest thing! Far less funny for those poor bastards who were involved in it, but rolling on the ground funny for those of us who weren't.
One particularly gloomy and overcast morning we were making our way up the fire break that went over "Old Smokey." "Making our way up" is a relative term because the ground was wet and slick, so we were actually struggling to keep going. Walking, climbing, or crawling. But always upwards! I was pretty much busy in my own little private hell, just trying to keep up the pace; one foot in front of the other. The only sounds to be heard were the muttered curses and labored breathing of those ahead and behind me. At least those were the only sounds until the all hell broke loose...
A guy uphill from me either lost his footing, his balance, or both. All I know is he was rolling down the trail very quickly, and picking up speed as he went. That was bad enough in itself, but he was knocking guys down as he rolled. As he rolled past me, he was screaming and had a look of terror on his face. He wasn't actually "rolling," it more like a half roll, half bounce. He still had his pack and gear on and it made for a very rough ride down the hill.
Shortly after he passed me he knocked another guy over backwards...downhill...
The second guy joined him on his trip down the hill. It was both terrifying and hilarious at the same time. I know, I know...I'm a sick bastard, but I couldn't help it. It was like these two were rolling down hill like human bowling balls, on some perverted bowling alley knocking down human bowling pins as they went.
They actually didn't roll that far, but there were plenty of bruises to go around. Thankfully nobody was badly hurt. We laughed about the incident for the rest of our infantry training and beyond.