Is it possible to be nostalgic about swamping the bed?

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I was best man at a mates wedding and stayed at his parents house. I was served the warning about not splashing down (apparently I had a reputation) and bare in mind that him and his Fiancee had picked me up from a pub near to their town and I was minging and stale swamped and chunder stains all over was the order of dress. After the obligatory meet the sister and family and sisters best mate (oh yes) promptly went out for his stag do. Eventually the next morning I awoke to suprisingly a bone dry pit. My mate of the holier than though scowls about swamping had fully lagged the bed and was in serious grief with his mum! Oh Happy days. I could have moved in I was the golden boy. I may have peed on him in his sleep but no one knows that for sure!
Well I was led to this thread by MDN...cnut!!!

Well this story is about the Scottish Horse in Aldergrove to. Don't know what it was about this place but after we built the place it just turned into a shrine for Fezzing your Pants!

Well on this particular day a guy called Mavis was leaving NI. And in the traditon of leaving 655 you had to do the duty speech then quoff the obligatory yard of ale all whilst stood on the rather plush bar stool.

But poor ol' Mave didn't have the god given ability to Quof so much ale at once. So he volunteered to neck a pint of Top Shelf. So being PC and not getting into trouble with the grown ups we gave him 2 halfs of Top Shelf (Could never figure why it had to be in half pint pots and wat made that any more legal than 1 big boys glass). Anyway so the top shelfs where procured and several additional items added. I do believe one of the chaps decided to take one half and sling one off into it! Classy!

Anyway time came for the speeches, and 'cuase Mave was a popular chap most of the Squadron turned up (OC, SSM and wives) and also some of the A list characters from RHQ!

Well the OC gave his speech, Mave was then invited to take his rightful place atop of the bar stool. He gave his speech then he was handed both half pots at once.

For some strange reason he wouldn't drink so all the riff raff started to heckle thinking he had bottled out!

"No lads give me a minute I'm just prepping myself for the event" he replies back.

He then starts necking said cock-tail, upon which the awesome picture of the map of Africa starts to appear upon said 501's, he had drunk so much he even had enough spare to flood the african plains and re-enach his very own version of the Angel Falls from the bar stool. Nobody could believe his nerve with the OC's and Sargeant Majors wife present plus the Regi Colonel present qouffing his favourite tipple.

Never seen such a varied mix of people then start pissing themselves!

Good on ya Mave that'll always stay affixed in my fizzog!
We were working in Earls Court once as the admin unit for the Royal Tournament - basically 3 - 4 weeks on the razz. New boy arrived and asked if he could have the vacant lower bunk. We then sat back and waited for the 22 year Lance Jack (a famous swamper) to come back in off the pop and open the floodgates.

Much mirth as gagging young sprog fell out of his pit reaching.
One of the lads got totally rat arrsed one night, and as it was the squadron rule that if anyone made it back to bed they were safe from any pranks being played, so....

We watched and waited and when he finally got on to his bed we were happy to find that one of his feet was still touching the floor, showtime!!!

Out came the ubiquious Bic razor and we set to work on his general nad area, and covering the tufts we couldnt get with some nice sticky arry black when lo and behold our slightly tufty friend decided to swamp.

A quick discussion was had by all and sundry to see if we would quickly pick him up and get him to the bog, but the decision was quickly reached to the effect off "Nah feck it, this is feckin funny!"

Poor bugger woke up in the morning wet, cold, slightly bald covered in arry black. I can still hear his screams to this day as he started to remove hat nice sticky blck stuff :lol:
Takes me back to the summer of 1990 July i think UN camp in Nicosia we had moved into the transit accomodation while we had to wait for crab air to sort there lifes out, we had extra days in Nicosia on the lash, the only downside was we were on issue camp beds, i got very lashed up one night only to bed woken by my mate screaming abuse at me during the night i had damped down so much the cause his bed was touching the floor hhe had soaked up most of my body fluids, was not an happy bunny :roll:
On a resettlement course in Scotland and I was in the bar. Dont know if it was down to being nervous in new surroundings, copious amounts of Carlsberg or the fact that I love the damp warm safe feeling that I derived from pi55ing in my bed but I hold fond memories of that night
some time ago I went for a reunion pi55 up with some of the old lads. A mate, X, got well lubricated out on the town and we all poured ourselves back to the "barracks" a room above the pub owned by one of the lads that would serve as our accommodation for the night. quite a few more beers were drunk and a noisy but genial troop wandered off to their pits. X was on the floor on an inflatable matress and a couple of other lads were on bunks next to him. the rest were on a raised section of floor further from the door on a collection of matresses and women they had picked up. one of the lads on the bunks slowly let X's matress down during the night and kept giggling to himself shaking the bed as he did so. the other lad was convinced he was having a swift wnak. but X snored on .
X was known as swampy for obvious reasons and was well shiters so the lads went to work on him.
the next morning the landlords wife was walking upstairs when she noticed a dribble of liquid coming from under the door. concerned she opened it and through the stench of beer breath saw X angel like smile on his face, face down on a deflated air bed (her air bed) with his keks round his ankles, a huge smiley face drawn in indelible pen on his arrse, HER toothbrush shoved up his brown star and a scale model of lake victoria on the lino all around with a river running off to the falls on the stairs.
Not sure she saw the funny side
I am serious when I say this but what is wrong with a bit nappy rash now and again. I have been married foe 20 odd years and still occasionally give my wife a splash down. She has got used to it but now I have to change all the bed and do all the washing. The plastic sheet works but it depends if you Niagra Falls it or what. Bit embarrassing for the kids(20 &16) when they know that their old dad still pissess the bed when he's drunk. Very hard when your staying at someones house try to stay sober. Always know my hotel roomwhen on holiday as it's the one with the sheets usually hanging out to dry. Your all right though the civvies just don't understand.
Hey all - nowt wrong wid swamping out - Jan 1986, first night in regt so down to the NAAFI we all go - a few hours and strange concoctions later - I wake up to a bloke walking in the room calling me a "dirty bas***d" - apparently I had got up, went to his bedspace and took it for a urinal! Poor bloke was covered - I then moved on to my bed. Only been there 24 hrs and already had a nickname - even the CO called me Swampy on the way to the tank park!!!!!!!!

Managed to keep "topping up" the reason for the name too! And this is well before that asre was in papers, wid the same name as me for hugging trees and loving roads!!!!!

Viret in Aeturnem!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
First read this thread last night & it made me howl! Funniest thing I've seen for years....
So, a few golden showers stories -
1. Detmold 1980. Had a mate in 71 A/C Wksp; he & I had a sesh in our Cpls Mess one night & got well lagered up. At closing time he pedalled off rather unsteadily on his pushbike to the Hakedahl. Saw him next morning with a face like a slapped arrse & asked what was up, he replied: " The wife has got the right arrse at the moment 'cos I got up in the night, opened the wardrobe doors & lagged all over her best frocks!"
2. Palace Bks, Holywood 1982. Certain NCOs from 3 RRF were detached to the W.Belfast locs as Concos, to show the roulement bns round when they arrived etc. These blokes used to work a rota, so they came back to Palace for a w/end off about once every 3 weeks. Singlies among them just used to go on the p*ss for the w/end; one used to doss in the bedspace opposite me, he was famous for going to kip, getting up in the early hours & standing at the side of his bed then p*ssing on it & getting back in. Mmmmmm.........
Another one swamped his pit so often, the ColourBoy took his bed away. When he came back for the w/end he used to doss on 2 of those horrible old MQ armchairs, & even swamped those regularly. The smell got that bad we burned them after a few weeks.
3. Fast forward to 2003. By this time I work for the MOD, & was doing the NBC Instr's course at Winterbourne Gunner (accm was the wooden huts). In the room next to me was a guy who after an energetic session in the students bar, wobbled back to his room, flung his locker doors open wide & let loose Niagara Falls all over his kit. On being quizzed in the morning he replied, "I always swamp something when I'm bladdered".
4. Slightly off topic but funny nonetheless. Had a mate in 1 WFR who was commanding a 432 on exercise in BAOR. He was driving down a major road when he got caught short for a poo, so he taps the driver on the head & gets him to pull over. Having unstrapped the shovel GS he strode purposefully into the woods, undoing his tank suit as he went. Did the business, buried the evidence (or so he thought) & remounted the 432. Set off down the road, after a few kms it started raining so he pulled up the tank suit hood & Splat! He'd crapped in the hood...... Had to burn his beret when he got back to camp. Oh dear.
Takes me back to 82...

Sharing a 2 man room, we both got absolutely hammered. I woke up very early on the Sunday morning about 6am....freezing my tits ice cold sheets......brain clicks on..huh oh...Swamp Alert.

But this one didn't feel right.....something was wrong, very wrong!

A quick 360 shufti around the bunk answered my query. In addition to the acceptable swamping of my pit, I'd broken the Golden "No Faeces in the Room" Rule. I'd dumped on a G10 easy chair in the corner of the room, it certainly brightened up the floral chair cover. It appeared I'd used my arse cheeks to smear it around.....very animal.....Anyway, in fear of a well deserved kicking from my bunkmate, I whipped off the chair cover and my sheets and stuck them on a 60c hot wash pronto. In addition I flung the windows open(my mate was still comatose), and using my best copy of Playbirds..wafted the smell away.

In the style of a public relations expert, I spent the rest of the day coyly admitting that I'd pi88ed the bed, and so deflecting my comrades from my real crime

Years later at a reunion I coughed the said crime to my roommate, who until then knew nothing. Devious bastard or what
Show me a man who as a 17 year old squaddy didn't piss and shit himself after drinking copious amounts of red stripe and whiskey in the Scorpion nightclub and I'll show you a liar. As a married man now in my thirties with a young daughter I should be shamed in retrospect. But the thought of it makes me smile to myself. Faecal nostalgia aint wot it used to be....
We had one renowned swamper in the platoon, while on exercise in Belgium we had an evening on the beer.

Early in the morning something woke me and as I rolled over I spotted the swamper moving around the block, he stopped and proceeded to lift the bergan lid of one of the guys, being just the right height and having a lift up lid I can understand the confusion.

Swamper proceeded to release his bladder and I rolled over and went back to sleep, didn't have the heart to stop him :)

Couldn't tell the unfortunate bloke about the incident until after the exercise, kept us all in stitches :)
This is the best thread ever! I can't remember how many times i have splashed down, its still an ongoing thing for me, when i was married my wife used to go mental nearly every weekend.
isnt it funny how the lads laugh their heads off but if you do it on leave etc you get vile looks from people.

my latest accident was last month in yates's bar in aldershot- me and a mate were on a course and went out dressed in theatre scubs.
i was outside of yates's having a ciggie when i felt the need to fart, i wish i hadnt because about 3 litres of a red hot coffee like substance squirted out of my rusty sherrifs badge.
it was that bad it was all over my trainers as it ran down both legs. i was bothered for about 2 minutes. straight after it happened 2 of the local munters were trying to have a conversation and i cant belive they couldnt smell the chocolate slick that they were stood in.

thats probably the last time i go through the bins in the room when im hungry, but i swear the kebab i found had only been in the bin for about 15 hours, and in my defense it tasted ok
I had the (mis)fortune to be able to replicate the map of Africa on my mattress from time to time. Twas character building stuff, shame there were too many biscuit faced fuckers who looked down on such japery!!!

I remember a female type at York circa 1997/98 - Int Corp or RMP - can't remember but she was a renowned map maker on her mattress... It was the talk of the girly block.
Morning Arrsers. Firstly I would like to apologise for not drinking for the last 193 days. (Bloody doctors!)

Last night I decided to celebrate some recent good news, I decided to call up some friends and have a small scoop to chill out, a pint of Guiness was ordered and slowly consumed - a very welcome return.

When so called 'Friends' saw me drinking for the first time in ages they decided to buy me some more, I later moved on to my local where I used to work and was forced to drink more (Free) Guiness (With port.)

Waking this morning I find myself without a hangover and wondering why I hadn't got up several times during the night to take several trips to the bog. Then it hit me; that familiar warn and wet feeling - One had swamped one's pit!

Happy Days!!!
While on Med Man in the mid 90's with The Welsh Cavalry, up in Crow Foot before we deployed, my new bunk mate came over and politely informed me of his regular occourances after a night on it, as a way of an appology in advance, and then promplty shot off down O'Reiley's, The Bin etc,etc........

Very early doors I was glad of the newly installed Mattress, Pi55 Proof, above me as I was treated to the most spectacular display of running water this side of Niagra....down both sides it streamed from the top bunk, leaving me with the sensation of being cocconed inside some arty-farty indoor japanese water feature....nothing else to do but pull my maggot in tight around me and weather out the storm !.

Few hours later there he was passing me a brew in bed, while he squared away our area with the mop, and then pleasantries exchanged off we went down the tank park.

Got a few more brews in bed that week !!!

Now I could have made a scene, but felt that would have been more than hypocritical.....having not but a few weeks before woken up on the mother-in-law's living room rug, naked with a semi, gas fire on, in my own mini-sauna with hint of Twiglet, while she was standing in the kitchen doing the ironing...girl friend (now wife!) watching TVam not fcuking impressed in the slightest....

There are more (many), which given time I may recount. But to be honest I am now glad that those days are a thing of the past for me (I hope), but they are always good for a bit of banter in the Sqn Bar etc.

This threads like a dandilion and the power of autosuggestion, once held youre doomed to pish, Oh well I'll go and drink plenty of tea and off for a nap sans nappy.

My first week end at Line Tp, 1ADSR, Verden and I was put in a two man room with Speedy whose pride and joy was his huge big feck off stereo system about the size of a small fridge and full of flashing lights and knobs.

In true Liney fashion a week end of drinking was declared to welcome the new lance jack, me, to the troop. What was to become a well worn path occurred that night, Sqn bar…The Bistro…Star Club…somewhere else, no idea where…Bistro…back to barracks somehow.

I was woken by the screams of Speedy “Taff, Taff you’re pissing on my stereo” “Sorry” then back to bed not having electrocuted myself by the grace of god.

Next day plenty of dark looks and mumblings from Speedy and a few half arsed apologies from me. Saturday lunchtime and it all starts again but with more supping time due to it being Saturday and all.

This time I woke to the sound of Speedy shouting “Taff, Taff you’re pissing on me” and he was right. Monday morning Speedy was in the SSM’s office demanding a re-room which he got and I got a two man room to myself…result.