Normally synonymous with pan-bash and burning turds, Jif jobs were an occasional gem. My best was sitting around smoking after the war on granby, trying to avoid work, when I got dicked with 4 others for a 'Mag to Grid excercise' What we had dispose of were the squadrons grenades. Must have thrown 70 plus that day including white phos. Got so confident we were releasing the lever before we chucked em, and giggling like the morons we were. Happy days!