I have become charbroiled.
Like a steak having been marinating in an oven, I have been sitting for three hours in my own juices. Sweat, piss, and semen.
The birthday of the U.S. Army was today. A Sunday.
Other soldiers in other units might have been taking a ceremonious night out on the town to celebrate.
I was sitting in the back of a Bradley armored personnel carrier, pissing into an empty Gatorade bottle, and jacking off into a baby wipe.