I received an email from one of our members further illuminating what constitutes an unequivocal definition of the noun ‘shithole’. Forgive me the scatological associations of the word and focus your memories on how utterly primative 11 Bravos’ existence once was over in RVN – by and large. Certainly, some of us didn’t notice the temperature and relative humidity fluctuations or served in not-so-shithole countries with amenities like electricity. Nevertheless, this transcends the ages in translation.
Member John Mulligan submits for your reading and educational enlightenment, the following. John claimed ancestry with the Great Scottish Clan of Mulligan who were credited as the originators of Golf. I secretly had him checked out on Ancesters.com™. Turns out there was a a Mulligan listed on the Mayflower’s Manifest and John’s DNA matched his Ancestral saliva sample so he’s legit. Hey, he may be an asknod member but you vet everybody these days. People are crazy. Some don’t even believe in Alien abduction and chemtrails. Can you believe that? Anyway, here’s how you can use Phonics© to better sound out what a shithole assignment is.
1.If your Sargent tells you to update your Gamma Globulin, Yellow Fever, Malaria, Dysentery, Tetanus, Cholera and other painful immunizations–
You might be deploying to a Shithole country
2.If you are told not to waste your time bringing a radio, your cellphone or any other electronics, as there is no electricity or signals–
You might be deploying to a Shithole country
3. If the Travel Pay folks smile when they give you your travel advance and the Per Diem rate is only $8.00/day, for everything…
You might be deploying to a Shithole country
4. If the “Area Cultural” briefing is only 30 minutes long, but the briefing on communicable diseases is 3 hours long–
Yep. Your new Zip Code may be shitsville.
5. If the “Area Cultural” briefing instructs you not to be judgmental and to ignore leaders in the host country who keep young boys or girls as sexual slaves–
You might be deploying to a Shithole country
7. If the “Area Cultural” briefing includes facts that male members of that society have multiple wives, but nevertheless prefer sexual activity with barnyard animals–
You might very well be deploying to a Shithole country
8. If the “Medical Briefing” includes warnings to treat all reptiles and arachnids as poisonous and remind you there are no antidotes in-theatre…
Then you might be deploying to a Shithole country
9. If the AO Cultural Officer warns that staring at a female FORN (Foreign National) more than 10 seconds equates to de facto common law marriage–
You might be deploying to a Shithole country
10. If the DA 1594 Daily Report for your new assignment includes a large box for “Number of Personnel Med-Evacuated” from theater for_______________
You can rest assured you may be deploying to a Shithole country
In our time, they called you up to the Commander’s office and asked if you wanted to volunteer for a cool speshull assignment. If you paused before signing and asked “Where to?” the answer was invariably ” Just sign here, son, and I’ll brief you in on it”. Your “Is it Remote/Isolated?” was always answered “Just sign here. I’ll tell you all about it. You’re not cleared in yet, boy.” He did answer my last question -“What’s the casualty rate?”. 40%. Well, when you’re 19 and you’re doing the math high as a kite on testosterone, 60% survive it. Shooo doggies. Color me signed.
Nowadays, deploments aren’t voluntary. They are cush affairs with generators and Sat phones. Real “houses” with air conditioning, hot and cold beverages and heating at FOBs are the norm. To us, FOB was scotch neat with a water back. At some OLs, we were forced to chill the Tanqueray® in a mountain stream all day-then come back and try to find it at dusk. We had to crush quinine tablets and mix them in water to approximate flat tonic water. Club soda was tonic water with quinine. Limes? Are ya kidding me? Papaya or bananas were about it. That is the definition of shithole. Well that and the prohibition of even a lingering gaze at a passing Hmong maiden of marriagable age.
I certainly don’t want to impugn our Warriors who still fight over in Iraqistan but calling home in our day required a MARS SSB hookup when (and if) the skip was hitting in Arizona on the 10 meter band. A cell phone was a PRC 100. Alpha 6 was your ‘operator’. We’ve come a long way baby.
This was our communication with the outside world in 1970.
Hate to correct the blog owner but I was abducted twice, once to swap my irish dna for scottish and once to marry a graham.
Good one