Ok,
The Army was not always the civilized organization it is now. Back in 1974, it was much Closer to a "Hell on Wheels" thing. The consumption of drugs, beer and strong Spirits was a thing of wonder.
I was in a HAWK TRIAD Battery. We had a 7 day field exercise. The training areas were all within 30-50 klicks from Bamberg. On the average an ADA unit used to move every 6-8 hours. A stressful operation. I was a part of AFP II, Assault Firing Platoon 2, about 30 people max.
Part of our Basic Load was several cases of beer, and of course, Numerus bottles of El Rojo Tequila. But, sad to say, all good things come to an end. After the 5th day, the cupboard was almost dry. We were in a location called Area Mike, but we called it Area Mud, and with good reason. We were more or less trapped in a sea of mud, and nothing short of deine intervention was going to get us out of the site.
The Platoon LT called the whole show off and we stood down. A few of us enlisted types had a small confab. It was decided we would put up the GP Medium tent, and sleep under canvas for the first time in a week. It was also decided that we needed to organize a resupply mission. After consuming all our meager booze supplies, we hiked off to the town, (really a village) called Sulzheim, outside of Schweinfurt. Takes about 30 min to get there.
We were "well known" in town. This was not our first time around. There was a small Gasthouse that sold us the needed 6 cases of beer and 3 bottles of some type of schnapps that tasted like swamp water. We hiked back to the training area and went to the tent. The LT and NCO's had a tent about 30 meters from ours. I have no doubt they heard us come back.
After making a dent in the resupplied booze stock, someone had the great idea to get the stove out, and "Heat the tent". And so it happened. Since the fuel metering valve was dirty, it did not work well at all. We unhooked it, and we tossed in some dry wood, (tent stakes) to "help " things out. And then some more wood. We left the diesel hooked up, for some reason. Beer had nothing to do with it.
At some point in time, the tent started to get nice and warm. And the stove got nice and red. I love to fix things. So I took the fuel regulator apart and fixed it. Hooked it back up, and turned on the fuel. We all agreed that things were looking up, the tent was warm, and we did not need any more wood. Life is good!
We continued to reduce our stock of beer and bad schnapps. It got late, so we agreed to set up a fire guard watch, to make sure nothing happens, like the tent burns down, or that the stove went out. A few hours later, the ashes in the stove from the wood kept the oil from burning right. So the fire guard turned up the fuel. All the way. and went to sleep. Someone else woke up cold. He found the stove cold, so he assumed the fuel had run out. So he tossed in a bunch more tent stakes. And a half cup of denatured alcohol, to "get things going". Mean time the diesel was still turned on.
Well, the stove lit up. And started to get hot. And then the stove got red. By this time most of us were awake, as the Fire guard had become somewhat upset about the RED stove. Then the stove pipe started to get red. And the stove began to MOAN. Anyone asleep soon woke up. I turned off the regulator. But it was way too late.
So there stood a bunch of drunks, looking at the stove and pipe get ever higher red. I supose we all thought things were going to get better soon. Soon the tent hole where the pipe went out began to smoke. At that point SFC L. H. walked in asked us the 1000 dollar question. "What the **** is going on here? He sent us off to find a fire extinguisher. No easy task, as the elbow on the army fire extinguisher is just the right size to make a kick ass hash bowl. So it took a long while to find one that worked. By the time someone showed up, the tent was burning along just like a well fed bonfire.
The enlisted members of AFP II got to fill a lot of sand bags for the next several weeks.
