Basic Training & Private Key's hair

I went into Basic on October 1, 1986. I didn't pass the Physical Fitness test, so I got sent over to the Fitness Training Company for a few weeks of pushups, sit-ups, weights, jogs, and the dreaded exercise bike.

Once I was fit enough to leave there, I was assigned to B-Company 6-2-4 (6th Brigade, 2nd Battalion, 4th Platoon).
We awoke daily at 4:30, hit the mess hall by 5 a.m., and were ready to head out by 5:30, Monday through Sunday.

Sundays were more relaxed--no regular training, but those of us who didn't go to church services ended up cleaning the barracks (if I remember correctly, they had a share of cleanup when they came back, so it worked out). You could talk, hang out, whatever, as long as the work was getting done, but sleeping was a no-no.

Private Key sagged down between lockers and fell asleep.

Drill Sergeant Driscoll came out of his office to check on things. He got this grin on his face and held a single finger to his lips, then whispered: "Sshhh! Someone get me their shaving cream!"

Thus armed, he made a good-sized pile of the stuff on Key's head, then snuck back to his office. "Give me a minute."

Silence for a few moments.

"PRIVATE KEY! Come to my office!"

We had to wake the sleeper up--careful not to disturb his decoration. Key un-assed the floor and went to the office. We followed as quietly as we could.

"Sergeant Driscoll, Private Key reporting as ordered!" (I assume he saluted)

Silence for a few moments.

"Private...what is that on your head?"

Confused--then shocked--silence, then a stammered, "I--I don't know, Sergeant."

"Clean it up--and give me fifty for sleeping."