Whislt in Londonderry in the late 80's ,, there seemed to be a minging craze of turning the heater off wanking on it and then the next person comes on stag and turns it on and then he gets the horrible stench of fizzing jizz. I know this was about as bad as it gets or was it?
Once had a bad attack of shits while locked into a sangar on Crumlin Rd nick one Christmas and had to vent into a newspaper. Has the consistancy of a prawn vindaloo. I was pleasantly surprised by the sensation of bundling it up into a hot shit poltice and dropping it through the rear armored window into the allotment/garden below. Sadly the reek had subsided by the time the next bloke came on stag...much to my disappointment.
I remember watching Sky news coverage of the XMG Super Sangar being dismantled. I was fully expecting decades worth of man muck to pour from its sides and swamp the town square some like some sort of gloopy tsunami.
I know of one lad who got 28 days in the Glasshouse for being caught whilst pulling his pud on stag. I imagine doing time for literally being a "wanker" is not something he'll be telling his grandkids.
Those sangar telescopes were something else. You could spot some bird a mile away, zoom in and focus and it was like you were standing next to her. Every bedroom window where the light came on in the evenings was a magnet. If you didn't have any luck there, you could often catch one in the morning in a tower block of flats. There she was up on the 14th floor topless and washing herself in the kitchen sink thinking nobody could see her! There was you, a mile away but with that telescope, if you reached forward, you could have fondled her tits.
Taking over from a particualr Rfn in the Derryard Checkpoint used to be like having to negotiate the tunnels of Cu Chi, there were cam cream were booby traps from the ladder upwards. However, during a visit from the Colonel of the Scots Guards who were taking over from us, the good Colonel used the IWS to have a look into the dead ground infront of the checkpoint before they put up the wriggly tin on the roadside (Which incidentally went in the wrong place) to pull the IWS away from his face to reveal a lovely cam cream ring around his eye. Apparently it had been the Rfn's intentions to get me to look at him while he was doing traffic on the roadside therefore me getting the brown eye. He ended up on incinerator duties for the rest of the stay at the checkpoint.
There was a guy in my Bn (before my time) who is now a bit of a legend, he didn't do anything grotty but was a bit thick.
He'd been dispatched from a sangar somewhere to get some brews. He comes back and climbs the ladder with a tray of brew, only someone has closed the hatch, instead of shout he decides to try and open the hatch with the hand that isn't holding the tray.
The guys in the sangar here a scream and a thud, the open the hatch to find our hero lying on the floor at the foot of the ladder covered in hot brew.