If you have read some of my recent posts, you know that I have been writing about my experiences after leaving the Logistics Executive Development Course at Fort Lee, Virginia. Well, I graduated from the Logistics Executive Development Course in due course, and my family and I headed for Fort Huachuca, Arizona. Thus, I left the Logistics Executive Development Course and Fort Lee, Virginia, behind. If you want to know more about those subjects, you will just have to go back and revisit the posts on those subjects. If you have been reading my most recent posts about my adventures after moving to Arizona, you found out what happened when I initially signed in at Fort Huachuca, Arizona. What I didn’t tell you previously was that I had been assigned to the Joint Interoperability Test Center (JITC) at Fort Huachuca. JITC is a subordinate command of the Defense Information Systems Agency. You may have read about an interesting situation with a temporary guard. I talked about securing post housing and how spiders rained from the ceilings. Oh yeah. That was quite entertaining. Not. I switched gears to talk about some of my volunteer work on Fort Huachuca. Oh yeah. I was volunteered by my unit to be a tax officer to help soldiers and their families prepare their taxes. Yay. Due to this, I discussed how I helped my Master Gunnery Sergeant and his dependapotamus spouse prepare their taxes. Finally, I most recently talked about where my quarters were located on Fort Huachuca and how I was introduced to the local chapter of the Hash House Harriers. Today, I am going to talk about an incident that happened soon after I assumed my tour of duty at the Joint Interoperability Test Center (JITC) at Fort Huachuca. This particular incident occurred one Monday morning soon after I arrived at work. I pulled into the west parking lot without incident and parked in my usual parking spot. At that time, I noted that my NCOIC, Master Gunnery Sergeant Orr, was in his usual position in the back of his green pickup truck. Naturally, I assumed he was sound asleep so I did not disturb him. I proceeded through the gate and stopped at the gate shack to talk to the guard for a few minutes. Then I proceeded to the tactical testbed operations building. The tactical testbed operations building was an old, converted aircraft hangar. My office was on the second floor of that building. After drinking two cups of coffee and discussing daily operations with my maintenance chief Bill Lee, I decided I needed to use the local facilities. I excused myself and headed for the men’s room. When I entered the men’s room, a guy in cowboy boots and jeans was sitting in one of the stalls. He appeared to be slumped over as if he was asleep. I thought to myself, “I thought this is really odd. What in the hell is a guy doing sleeping this early in the day?” Then, I noticed a cowboy hat laying on the floor in the stall. I recognized the cowboy hat. Only one guy on our test team wore a hat like that. Harry Morehead was the only person who wore a hat like that. But just to confirm my suspicions, I went to check his testbed building. He was nowhere to be found. Additionally, none of his fellow team members knew where he was. I asked Frank Jenson and Bill Lee to follow me back to the men’s room. When we arrived at the men’s room, I asked them to identify the hat. Both Frank and Bill thought that the hat might belong to Harry. Then I asked them who they thought was in the toilet stall? Both said that they thought it might be Harry. I asked if it wasn’t just a little bit odd that he was asleep in the toilet stall at this time of the day. Frank said that he thought it was a little odd, so he went to get a portable music box. When he came back with the music box, I said, “Why don’t we just bang on the toilet stall? Won’t that work?” Frank said, “Well, I guess so. I never thought about that. I just thought that playing loud music would wake him up.” Both Bill and I said, “Well, hell yeah. Playing loud music will work. But so will banging on the stall. Duh!” Thus, while Frank turned on the music and blasted it, Bill and I banged on the toilet stall. However, the guy in the stall did not move. He remains slumped over. Now I was worried. I instructed Bill Lee to call 9-1-1. Within minutes, a rescue squad and a fire truck had arrived and pulled Harry out of the toilet stall. It turned out that he had suffered a mild heart attack after seeing a tarantula crawling down his arm while sitting in the toilet. The only thing is that whole situation was that I am not sure that the 9-1-1 call was full-service. I mean… Who exactly cleaned his butt? The assumption is that he went in there in the first place to take care of business, right? I sure as hell didn’t do it. And I’m pretty sure that neither Frank nor Bill did it. So did someone from the 9-1-1 team do it? Or did he just have some crusty clothing that he had to dispose of. At any rate, it was quite obvious that big hairy spiders were no laughing matter for Harry. He did not escape that toilet stall without experiencing a serious exercise in futility.
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