My normal wake-up at 0400; down the concrete stairs in the dark to the cold shower. Half-way through the ritual I hear a roar. I dash upstairs and find that Pvt K has awakened to discover that someone has urinated into the top of his footlocker, which he has left open overnight. He accuses me of being the culprit since I was the first one up...we "discuss" this for a few minutes and after many assurances that I know where the PP goes, he grumbles his way into the clean-up. We don't have any idea who it could have been. There are six of us living in that room; it could have been any of us...and anyone could have come up from another area to spritz us, so there really isn't any way to know who did it.
Two weeks pass. This time Doug is the victim...in his boots. He rants for an hour but is no more successful than K was. No way to figure it out .
A week later it's Guicciardo's turn. Another week and Terry gets hit. John is the oldest and wisest of us all. He and Doug set up a watch plan...they will catch the culprit because they don't tell any of us their plan. For more than two weeks they take turns sitting up in the dark waiting for the phantom pisser to strike again.
It is after midnight, dark as the inside of a coal mine. The lights suddenly flash on as the sound of a small brook breaks over the top of my footlocker (which, BTW, is closed and locked tight). And there he is...sound asleep on his feet...deadly implement in hand as he sprays my worldly possessions...it is Pvt K. Turns out he knew he was a sleep walker in his kiddie days but hadn't had any episodes since becoming an adult. The shrinks think the stress of his environment, meaning the VC, I guess, caused the relapse.
We didn't jump him or pound on him...too much...but we did find some little solace in the fact that he was his own first victim.