DIRTY LAUNDRY By Roger (Ramjet) Halloran, 2 RAR
Our tent was quite nice, with wooden pallet flooring and a canvas roof. Just four blokes in a space that was quite comfortable. As a “Reg” I was not too keen on Spit and Polish like one of the other regular soldiers who shared our living quarters. He was always on one of the other bloke’s (a “Nasho”) case about the heap of dirty laundry he kept in- between two of our farters (beds). One day he said, “Dickhead, get this stinking laundry OUT OF HERE!” With this, he kicked the heap of jungle greens etc and it began to stir! As we watched in horror, the bloke’s dirty shorts almost came to life before our eyes. The garments slowly parted and a bloody large rodent peeked at us from under the clothes. It stared at me for a second, then made eye contact with my now quiet roomie before slowly jumping from the heap, walking to the front door of the tent and letting itself out.
There was no hoarding of laundry between the beds after that.
