hey I created a subreddit medialiesagain
CNN's pain tolerance is insane
This is why I block every reddit ad.
LOOK AT HIM AND HIS BIG OL' PEN
White paint. Once you see the white paint the shiny goes away. I liked the shiny version better.
His hands are too big
"Sometimes you gotta be a creep to show how fake you were being the whole time"-rough translation
Oh, it’s not your job? It is now.
My brother has finally convinced me (after years of trying) that I should write about and post my story here on /sub/prorevenge. I don’t follow this subreddit regularly but he is an avid follower and stated my story is worthy. So I’m here to see if he was right.
Intro and Backstory
My dad was a mechanic for 20+ years, and for as long as I can remember, I drove him nuts because I would go around the house with a screw driver he left out and take everything apart because I wanted to see how it work. As I grew older I developed an affinity towards computers and electronics, which led me to be “that kid” in High School who changed his grades, crashed the school districts servers, and used the NETSEND command with great success. I would spend my weekends either with my grandparents and uncle working on science projects or dragging my dad outside to help me fix my car (which consisted of him telling me that he would help once I got it taken apart). Those “figure it out” lessons were the probably the greatest gift he could've given me growing up.
I joined the US Army in 2004 and went into communications or “commo” for short (25U) where I managed to go from PVT (E1) when I joined to SGT (E5) by the time I returned from my deployment in 2006. After returning home, I was subsequently transferred from a Light Infantry Unit (walking everywhere) to a Mechanized Infantry Unit (Riding in an armored vehicle everywhere) and placed in charge of the Battalion Commo Shop as the current person running the commo shop was scheduled to retire in a few months and I was the only other NCO. This is where things got interesting and my Commo vs. Mechanics ProRevenge story starts…
Commo vs. Mechanics
As anyone else that was in the US Army can attest to, every Monday is/was “Motor pool Maintenance”, which essentially means, go make sure all the Tanks, Bradley Fighting Vehicles (BFV), or anything else with a motor works the way it should. This included testing all the radios and communication equipment as well. If it didn’t work, we filled out the maintenance forms with the correct shop and have them fix it. All the issues would later be consolidated into a report that the leadership team would review. If a vehicle was on that report, the leadership team wanted to know why it wasn’t fixed.
I ran my shop using the same approach my dad taught me, which was “figure it out” and don’t come to me with a problem unless you have a solution. One Monday morning shortly after taking charge of the commo shop, one of my soldiers came to me with a problem he couldn’t figure out and asked if I could come help him. I agreed and followed him over to the BFV that was giving him problems. After a few hours of troubleshooting we finally traced the problem to the BFV’s slipring. We wanted to double and triple check that this was the problem because 1) sliprings in general have a low failure rate and 2) it wasn’t something we could fix on our own. It required help from the mechanics because the slipring required taking apart the interior of the BFV turret to actually get to it.
So, I went to the mechanics to get there help so we could fix the problem. This is when I learned the mechanics didn’t like the commo shop. I was essentially told by the motor chief to f-off and the slipring is a commo issue and it’s the commo shop’s job to fix it, not theirs. I was pissed at the response and tried to insist we needed his help. However, I was promptly shut down and told to pound sand. At this point, I was beyond pissed, I tried the official way, I even swallowed my pride and asked him nicely, both times I was shit on. I decided I was going to play Global Thermonuclear War and teach him a lesson that neither he nor anyone else in his shop would forget. So, I went to my guys and told them I would be back in about an hour or two because I needed to run home and grab some stuff. When I got home, I went directly for the garage and started packing all the wrenches, impacts, and sockets that I could fit into my portable toolbox. I also loaded up the portable air compressor and any extension cords I could find and made my way back to the motor pool.
Once I got back to the motor pool I had my guys locate every extension cord they could find around the office because I could only find one in my garage and help me run power out to the BFV that we were going to have to fix ourselves. I also had 2 of the guys run to the HQ and find me two of largest empty coffee cans they could find. I ended up having to tell them twice because the first time they thought I was joking… they couldn’t understand why I needed a coffee can of all things. When they returned with coffee cans I had everything in place, I had power and compressed air, tools, and a place to neatly put all of the bolts, nuts, and washers I was about to remove. Under normal circumstances I would only remove the things that absolutely had to be removed, the fewer things to put back together, the better. But these weren’t normal circumstances, and I had absolutely no intention of putting anything back together. It was about lunch time and I decided my way of fixing this issue probably wasn’t the best example to set for my team, so I sent them lunch and told them I would handle this issue so they could focus on the other vehicles after lunch.
For the next few hours I proceeded to dismantle every single bolt I could find. I removed seats, interior plates, shelves, pretty much anything that wasn’t electrical or commo related got removed. I would then place all of the newly removed hardware in the coffee can. By the time I reached the turret I had filled up both coffee cans with nuts, bolts and washers that I had to go find something else to start putting this stuff in, luckily we had Zip-Lock bags by the dozen laying around the office. I grabbed a couple of those and went back to having fun taking apart the BFV. I finally reached the slip ring and managed to luck out I didn’t have to replace the slipring after all! Turns out the mechanics didn’t install one of the cable mounts and one of the commo cables got snagged and cut. Probably took me less than 15 minutes at that point to replace the cable (of course the fact that I completely removed everything in the way helped because now I didn’t have to fish the cable through anything). Once I replaced the cable and made sure all of the other commo equipment worked, I figured while I had everything taken apart it would be much easier to fix any other problems they might have been having. All commo systems checked out, my job was done.
Everything that I had taken out of the BFV was then gently and neatly stacked in the interior of the BFV, I put the lids on the coffee cans, zipped up the bags and wrote “bolts” on each of them. Once everything was tidied up, I went off to find the owner of the BFV and let him know his commo issue was fixed but he should probably have a mechanic look at his BFV because I had to disassemble some (and by some I meant “most”) of the vehicle in order to get to the part I needed to replace and I couldn’t remember how everything went back together.
I stared out of my office window for the rest of the day waiting for the mechanics to get around to looking at the BFV and I still remember the reaction of the motor chief when looked inside that vehicle if I didn’t know any better I could of sworn his head rotated around 3 times and damn near popped off. His reaction was absolutely priceless.
I knew he was about to storm into my shop in a fit of rage, so I got up and decided it was probably best to meet him outside in motor pool. As soon as I reached earshot distance he started screaming and demanding I put the vehicle back the way I found it. However, I was having none of that, I simply shook my head and told him “It was a “mechanical issue” now and it wasn’t my job and I asked for your help in the beginning and was told no because it wasn’t your job. I’m just a commo guy I didn’t know what needed to be removed so I could fix the commo issue in the slipring, so I removed everything, if someone from your team would have been there, I think this whole misunderstanding could have been avoided.”
That vehicle remained on the weekly report for the next 3 weeks while they figured out what bolts went where. However, after that incident I was never told “It’s not my job” ever again and the mechanics were more than willing to help me fix any issues that came up. By the time I left the unit we ended up starting to cross train each other’s team members so we could fix things faster as they came up.
TL; DR – Needed help from Mechanics to replace a Commo part in a tracked vehicle, mechanic told me it wasn’t his job, so I took the entire vehicle apart, fixed my part and made the reassembly his job.
Edit: Formatting and grammer
sniff Aye, laddie, that brings a tear to me eye. That's absolutely beautiful.
Imagine they'd wipe all the hard drives of everybody who got an illegal copy...
TIL the 1% is a lot poorer than I thought.
EDIT: I know this is annual income people. Most people would still consider this upper middle class or maybe borderline Wealthy. This is not what people think about when talking about "the 1%"