All God's Children
Gotta Pee….. Even Infantrymen!
Pefinis, WWII, 3rd Army, 87th Division,
345th Regiment, Company G
As a combat infantryman peeing took
some time and doing making you rush to catch up with
your friends. Those of us who were skilled at this
function developed what we referred to as the “Backass
Method”. Although hard to do, with a little
concentration and effort and the concurrence of the guy
behind you, you peed walking backwards. Most of us got
quite good at doing it.
The only time peeing backward didn’t
work is when you were in a truck. You couldn’t pee.
You were jammed with 50 other guys. The truck would be
going down the road helter skelter, bouncing up and
down, hitting every pothole. You had one heck of a time
just keeping your bottom on the seat if you were lucky
enough to have one.
After a while when you had to pee,
almost in unison, there would be a loud piss call coming
from all the guys. It always amazed me. ”PISS CALL!,
PISS CALL!” It seemed like it was a programmed call.
The trucks would move to the side and park. Everybody
would jump out, run over the side of the road and start
peeing. It reminded me of a bunch of birds sitting on a
telephone wire, all nicely lined up doing their thing.
One night, the trucks would not
stop, now even for piss call. We didn’t know where the
hell we were going but we traveled for hours. Well
something had to give. One of the guys got the bright
idea. He took his helmet off, relieved himself and
passed it around to his neighbor. Each one made his
The helmet was passed around
somewhat like one does passing a hot dog to a neighbor
at a football game. The guy at the end would gingerly
pour it out the back. We laughed about it but took it
seriously. No one wanted to get wet by this well mixed
and unidentified urine.
This would go on despite the bumps
and bouncing of the truck, everyone gingerly watching
the helmets so they would not fill up too much then
passing them to the guys at the back.
Well, you guessed it. As ol’ Billy
Bob, a friend from Georgia, carefully and gingerly
received the receptacle for dispersal, the truck took
one hell of a bounce. Poor Billy Bob really got pissed -
and pissed on - and pissed off at our howls of laughter.
He was drenched wet! We were drenched with laughter.
Back To Stories