Thread: The Thunderbox!

Old and Bold will remember pre-Turdis days of self dug long drops on various German training areas.

Possibly the most famous, or infamous, was the multi occupant (30 seater?) on Rheinsehlen Camp. It was water flushed, but the flush wasn't controlled by the occupants.

Instead, a large cistern filled up, then let go of its own accord like a tsunami. Not too bad if you were near the start, but by the time that wall of water reached the far end, along with whatever or whoever was in the depths (or got sucked in by the vacuum), well imagine a Vesuvius of sh1te, drowned rats, old wonk mags....


Another favourite was at Sennelager, during NITAT training. About 1975 our neighbours there were some Scots mob. Apart from insisting on doing reveille with bagpipes, they also scoured the thunderbox seats every morning with caustic soda.

Picture, if you will, a poor young Gunner after a week in Tin City and nights on the Strip, savagely awakened by catstrangling across the camp. He goes off for his morning ablutions. then we hear the screams.

Moments later, said Gunner is seen trying to run with pants around ankles, arrse glowing red and, the cherry on the cake, so to speak, a large thunderbox rat with its teeth sunk into his nuts swinging along.

Laugh? We near shat ourselves.

The Oz army issue thunderboxes were one piece steel affairs with a black seat and lid (perfect for absorbing the maximum heat from a tropical sun) In SVN they were set into rows of four or so, concreted into a slab above a shit-trench.

When the shit reached a certain height, kero would be poured in and lit. The lids would clang back on their hinges and slam shut again, unless too much kero had been used, then burning shit of varying consistencies would blast against the ceiling!

NOBODY sat on the seat without checking its temperature, or dropped a lit cigarette butt down the hatch whilst seated, in case lingering kero fumes re-ignited...BOOM!

south stack light house for RLI rescue..it was us being picked up.. and on top of the cliff theres two planks..no comments plz...

i asked what they where for.. i was told.. i did not beleave him as i could not see how it worked.. i did find out later on..

the next day the heli dropped a lass into said hole and sat her on said planks..

It was just another dull, damp Monday morning in the UK - until I read this thread

Drive the rover up to the door, blocking the poor victim in, climb on bonnet, and pop smoke down the "chimney" of the thunderbox. Give the poor sod inside 20 seconds then lete him out sporting a new colour of clothing, and skin, and normally looking a little ill. Failing that, keep him in there until the knocking/shouting/choking stops.

Saw it done once, laughed for ages.

Originally Posted by smudge67

Drive the rover up to the door, blocking the poor victim in, climb on bonnet, and pop smoke down the "chimney" of the thunderbox. Give the poor sod inside 20 seconds then lete him out sporting a new colour of clothing, and skin, and normally looking a little ill. Failing that, keep him in there until the knocking/shouting/choking stops.

Saw it done once, laughed for ages.

Your turn will come........ :D

I see no mention of that other wonder of military kit "The Desert Rose"

Originally Posted by tropper66

I see no mention of that other wonder of military kit "The Desert Rose"

Oi... 5th Post..

"At one time, the black arts of how to build and maintain deep trench latrines and "desert roses" were drilled into all ranks. Even tactical sh1tting had to be taught and the skills maintained."

I remember being on a training camp, somewhere in the sennelager area I think.
The khazi was a row of "seats" wich dropped into a communual drain along the back of the row of seats.
Between each seat was a small modesty screen which only extended as far as the seat did so it was common for people to sit leaning forward chatting to their neighbours.
The big joke was to wait until half the troop was sitting down. (There were about 30 seats if I remember rightly.) Then set fire to a large ball of newspaper and float it down the drain, burning each ring piece as it sailed past.

Seeing each head appear over the top of the small screens as the guys lept up in turn was like a mexican wave without the arms.

Originally Posted by putteesinmyhands

...
The first visit of the Antonov cargo plane was greeted with much enthusiasm because of the size of its hold. Its departure was less well greeted. It had parked nose toward the Terminal, so had to be turned to head towards the runway. Once pointing in the right direction, its driver gave a quick blast of full throttle to get it rolling...

The slipstream tipped about a dozen turdises onto their doors, most of which were occupied. Screams for help were drowned out by the roar of the Antonov's engines. Rescue was performed mostly by those who had been queueing - they'd been knocked flat into the ever-widening pool of sh!t, so it wasn't as though they could get in a much worse state. Those who saw what had happened, but were thankfully some distance away, suddenly found that they had more important issues to attend to.

The turdises were tied against columns after that, but they were rarely occupied whenever an aero engine was to be heard...

I swear someone had a go at the wife of the Antonov pilot. This happened a few times when it dropped in. Note to self - use the ones at the front of the terminal buidling!

Always found that carrying cable-ties proved a useful method of "securing" those isolated portaloos - especially when someone has slipped in for the "middle of night" visit. :D

Scooby, that's also a game called 'Fireships' that Jack used to play in the dockyard heads that had to be used when a ship was in dry-dock. Naval history now I should think.

HE117 - as long as a copy of The field Service Pocket book 1914 is in existence, the art of field latrines will never be lost. Nor indeed will the proportions of elephant lines nor indeed the correct alignment of horse/mule lines to camel/elephant lines and the necessary spacings...

Originally Posted by Cuddles

HE117 - as long as a copy of The field Service Pocket book 1914 is in existence, the art of field latrines will never be lost. Nor indeed will the proportions of elephant lines nor indeed the correct alignment of horse/mule lines to camel/elephant lines and the necessary spacings...

Lines Snorting cocaine was an accepted social activity in those days

How the meaning of words has changed over the years... Smoking a Camel, for instance.

When the ole 1(BR) Corps HQ deployed on ex back in teh 80's we used to hide in large German factories such was the size of the Corps HQ when it deployed. At each enterence was a sattelite pass baord which meant that we were not allowed out in the open during these times. Because of the sattelite threat we had to bring in all turdeses when we arrived at a new location, although I suspect Soxmis knew which locations we used and only had to look for a long line of freshly delivered blue (why are they always blue?) toiles left outside a factory somewhere and knew we'd be arriving in the next 24/48 hours.

Originally Posted by Cuddles

HE117 - as long as a copy of The field Service Pocket book 1914 is in existence, the art of field latrines will never be lost. Nor indeed will the proportions of elephant lines nor indeed the correct alignment of horse/mule lines to camel/elephant lines and the necessary spacings...

...all vital stuff, as I am sure you will agree :D

(... having had to write a staff paper on the feasability of using mules to resupply outlying locations within the past three years... )