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Random military memory 2
Jan. 9th, 2009 11:15 amIn boot camp, everyone was required to be clean-shaven; stubble got you put on report. It happened often enough; there were a lot of youngsters in the regiment, but very few of them were too young to need to shave. Some of them had patchy stubble at best, the beginnings of a beard, but more often, it was a race to get to the latrine sinks and shave before morning inspection. A hundred and fifty conscripts per company, fourteen sinks per company barracks: ugly math.
I was in a very distinct minority: I didn't use blade and foam, but rather, an electric shaver. My bunk-mate kept on being surprised at this, saying that the shaver irritated the skin, and that I'd have problems, even after I told him I'd been using an electric shaver for twenty years. (I had a rather dense bunk-mate.) I'd also packed along a tiny pocket-sized battery-powered shaver, for use when I couldn't get to a plug to recharge my Norelco - power outlets were at even more of a premium in the barracks, and kept being hogged by people charging cell phones.
It worked out very well, so much so that one time a platoon-mate who hadn't had time to shave asked me if he could borrow my electric - and when he came out of the latrine clean-shaven, he proceeded to ask me if he could buy the thing off me. I was tempted, but also a bit selfish, I have to confess; having the little shaver in my uniform tunic pocket was a bit of a comfort to me. It made life easier.
So much so that when I got leave at one point, I got a second battery shaver for my field pack.
To backtrack a bit: the field gear that was issued to the conscripts was antique. I kept griping that the web gear was probably American army surplus from Vietnam; turns out it was even older than that - a little researched matched up my gear with the old M-1956 load-carrying equipment. And yeah, I think the 1956 stands for the year in which the design was put into service. Cumbersome, nearly impossible to adjust to fit, ammo pouches that never seemed to want to close, that sort of thing.
Part of the gear was a small satchel, to hold one's mess kit, spare socks and underwear, towels, and toiletries. The drill instructors gave us a list - quickly rattled off in Greek - of exactly what had to be in the satchel, and if you were lacking anything if the satchel was inspected, you went on report for probably four or five days.
Among the absolute requirements was a razor and shaving foam. For those that don't know, shaving foam is fairly bulky - and I don't know how to shave with a razor anyway. So instead, I packed that second battery shaver, smaller than a deck of playing cards. Served the same purpose, I figured.
Maybe I was lucky my satchel never got inspected. Even though I had everything else that was required, separated into plastic bags just as ordered.
The battery shaver came back with me, and now sits in a desk drawer at my office. I'm no longer at risk of going on report for being unshaven, but sometimes I have to rush out the door. The little shaver serves its purpose still.
I was in a very distinct minority: I didn't use blade and foam, but rather, an electric shaver. My bunk-mate kept on being surprised at this, saying that the shaver irritated the skin, and that I'd have problems, even after I told him I'd been using an electric shaver for twenty years. (I had a rather dense bunk-mate.) I'd also packed along a tiny pocket-sized battery-powered shaver, for use when I couldn't get to a plug to recharge my Norelco - power outlets were at even more of a premium in the barracks, and kept being hogged by people charging cell phones.
It worked out very well, so much so that one time a platoon-mate who hadn't had time to shave asked me if he could borrow my electric - and when he came out of the latrine clean-shaven, he proceeded to ask me if he could buy the thing off me. I was tempted, but also a bit selfish, I have to confess; having the little shaver in my uniform tunic pocket was a bit of a comfort to me. It made life easier.
So much so that when I got leave at one point, I got a second battery shaver for my field pack.
To backtrack a bit: the field gear that was issued to the conscripts was antique. I kept griping that the web gear was probably American army surplus from Vietnam; turns out it was even older than that - a little researched matched up my gear with the old M-1956 load-carrying equipment. And yeah, I think the 1956 stands for the year in which the design was put into service. Cumbersome, nearly impossible to adjust to fit, ammo pouches that never seemed to want to close, that sort of thing.
Part of the gear was a small satchel, to hold one's mess kit, spare socks and underwear, towels, and toiletries. The drill instructors gave us a list - quickly rattled off in Greek - of exactly what had to be in the satchel, and if you were lacking anything if the satchel was inspected, you went on report for probably four or five days.
Among the absolute requirements was a razor and shaving foam. For those that don't know, shaving foam is fairly bulky - and I don't know how to shave with a razor anyway. So instead, I packed that second battery shaver, smaller than a deck of playing cards. Served the same purpose, I figured.
Maybe I was lucky my satchel never got inspected. Even though I had everything else that was required, separated into plastic bags just as ordered.
The battery shaver came back with me, and now sits in a desk drawer at my office. I'm no longer at risk of going on report for being unshaven, but sometimes I have to rush out the door. The little shaver serves its purpose still.
