Sad Memories - Vietnam Era

101st Airborne Division

The Throne

Of all the many firebases supporting the 101st Airborne Division area of operations, one particular firebase comes to mind. It might have been Firebase Ripcord, Gladiator or Bastogne. The latrine when I arrived there was an inverted wooden ammunition box with a single hole cut onto it for the business end to make its deposits. It was situated atop and almost directly in the center of the firebase, the highest point on the firebase. A hole of some two feet deep had been dug and the inverted ammunition box was placed over the hole. Whenever the hole filled with human waste or the stench became unbearable, the hole would be covered over and the ammunition box moved on to a waiting hole already dug and waiting.

 Needing some privacy, some bashful newbie decided to put up a screen around the latrine. It was a good design with metal stakes and canvas forming to appear as a maze with an overlapping screen entrance and open on top. A hand-lettered cardboard sign hung from the canvas wall to read while doing your business. "Shared facility - Make it quick !"   And there was no toilet paper to be had. You brought whatever cleaning material you could find.

Privacy lasted for less than a couple of hours. I never even got to use it. Before I was able to use it and once the first helicopter landed some 30 meters from the latrine, the blade turbulence from the helicopter blew away the whole canvas screen leaving the latrine fully exposed once more with only the metal stakes in place. The wooden ammunition box stood firm since it had been well-staked into the ground. No further attempts at latrine privacy were made.

Lesson Learned : There is no room for shy bowels atop a firebase.

. . . On Privacy in Combat Zone

"While I was doing my thing, artillery shells started hitting the field left and right. I felt really bad, especially as there were no windows in the little hut and I couldn’t see what was going on outside. I was thinking to myself: If a shell hits this place now, you’ll become a legend, not in a positive sense, though. I imagined how my buddies would search for parts of my remains amidst all the shit." - Roland Bartetzko, author of 'The Smell of War'