I thought I should try and tell another story from my father’s time in the army. Again, please excuse the vague nature of this as most of these stories were told to me years ago when we drunkenly sat together at our kitchen table in the middle of the night. Anyways, here’s the story.

My father hates to sleep on soft mattresses. He can barely get any sleep if they’re anywhere near soft, which has led to him and my mom getting their own mattresses each for example. We often used to joke that his preferred mattress is a wooden plank with a brick for a pillow. Now we find ourselves back in the Bundeswehr of the late 80s. My father is a conscript in an airborne unit and has just arrived out of basic training at his new unit. He gets assigned a bed and much to his chagrin, it gives a lot of way when he sits down on it, the reason for which is not in fact the mattress but the bedframe instead. Unlike the beds in basic, which had a wooden slatted frame, this bed is made out of metal with springs keeping the mattress in place. With this being military property, you can all probably imagine how many had previously slept in it and how tense the springs still were. My father described it as basically sleeping on the ground.

After a few days, it’s obvious to anyone that something is not right with him. He’s constantly getting chewed out by his superiors for looking like a bear that just woke up from hibernation, he’s sleepy all the time and when he actually sleeps through a night, he wakes up more tired than before. Everyone keeps telling him to get himself squared away but he just can’t.

Then, one day while standing in a doorway he has an epiphany. He checks a bit and he’s certain that the door has roughly the same measurements as his mattress. But he’s a precise man, so later that day he procured himself a measuring tape and carefully measures one of the doors which thankfully are all the same. And his suspicion is confirmed, the door has in fact almost the exact same measurements. So he hatches a plan. Underneath the barracks building is a basement which is almost maze-like in its construction.

A few days later, he’s found a suitable target in the basement and has procured the appropriate screwdrivers from an unattended toolbox. During the night, he starts his operation. Down in the basement he finds a door in what he described as the most hidden room in the entire basement. Quickly and silently he unhinges it and removes the hinges, the lock and the door handle before he makes off with his prize. Miraculously, he manages to bring the door quietly to his bed where he slides the wooden frame under the mattress and promptly goes to sleep.

The effect is immediate and noticeable. He’s well rested when he wakes up. His superiors are happy that he’s finally squared away. His squadmates are happy that they’re no longer the focus of every NCOs attention. Everything is going great. Until one day three months later when a Sergeant Major decides to make a trip to the basement.

An angry call beckons through the building, it’s origin clearly audible: „WHOOOOOO STOOOOLE THE DOOOOOR?!?!?“ Everyone is made to stand in formation while the Sergeant Major tears them a new one. When he asks again, my father steps forward and confesses. He was made to put the door back and probably also had to run a few clicks as punishment. But the worst punishment was that he had to sleep in that bed for about another month until they got new ones with better bedframes.