Tricking the Quartermaster

We all do what we must to survive.

When I was in the Army, we had to hand in our standard-issue bedsheets to the barracks quartermaster every week.

The process involved holding the bed coverings up from corner to corner so he could see they were in good shape before being allowed to toss them onto the dirty pile and pick up clean replacements.

The Incident

I was very drunk on a Friday night and went to bed in full combat uniform, including the combat boots. Had a nightmare, tossing and kicking. Woke up Saturday with a very bad hangover and bedsheets ripped through into shards.

It was the day to turn in the sheets. I was panic-stricken. Would they kick me out of the Army? Would they fine me $100 dollars? I had no idea what sheets cost and I had very little money.

I taped the ripped bedspreads together from the backside. Kept my anxiety at bay as I waited in line to show the sheets to the quartermaster. When my turn came, I held them up with the tape side toward me. The line behind could see the sloppy tape job. No one in front could.

Got the OK and tossed them onto the dirty pile. Was sure someone would shout my name as I walked away with clean sheets, but no one did.

The Aftermath

I can imagine the confused surprise when someone in the laundry pulled a batch of sheets from the washer and found some had been ripped to shreds.

Maybe the washing equipment got a checkup — just in case it was ripping things.

I was young and stupid. I’m not proud that I got drunk and not proud that I turned in ripped bedsheets. At some level, I know I should feel bad about it, but now decades later I just find it funny. And honestly, at the time, it felt like something I needed to do to survive.