Mos’ def. Yup. We believe that. Gospel truth. Amen.
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Yep, absolutely.
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So there I was … Back in the ancient days of 1988, I had just left school with a like of chemistry and the need of a job, I applied for and got a position of Lab Technician for a company called Catalin ltd.
Catalin made Phenol Formaldehyde resin, this was used in all manner of household objects from kitchen work surfaces to snooker/pool balls. My job there was in the quality control department, this involved the testing of all incoming materials and finished products.
one of the main components of Phenol Formaldehyde resin as you may guess is Phenol… this also goes by the name of carbonic acid… its main uses apart from resin in as an antiseptic in over the counter throat medication (you may not want to use it after reading this 
)
During my first week there we had a delivery of phenol coming in, so the lab manager (a wonderful old scottish guy named Graham) took me aside and gave me the safety brief …“This stuff is nasty”
Me emboldened with my recently received “A” level chemistry qualification “it cant be that bad”
Graham then proceeds to scare the living cr-p out of me … Phenol is easily absorbed in to the skin, it doesn’t take much to kill you … lethal dose in humans is about 100mg/kg this will shut down your central nervous system, kidneys, liver. It will cause second to third degree burns on unprotected skin, is corrosive to mucus membranes including your eyes and respiratory system.
He must have seen the horrified look on my face… “don’t worry you will have your PPE” he said with a smile…
Later that day the tanker arrived bringing approximately 30 tons of the terrifying chemical, I also forgot
this stuff is a solid at room temp, so it has to be heated to between 45-60’c so its liquid and can be pumped…
The driver gets a sample and brings it in to the lab and he can only be described as wearing a heavy duty rubber space suit, with included respirator … and then there is me …stood there in my own Personal Protective Equipment, this consisted of … a lab coat, safety glasses and a pair of marigold industrial rubber gloves…
I ended up working there for about a year and a half before they shut down.
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Ahhh, workplace health and safety back in the 80’s. One of the first jobs I had out of High School (1985) was as a spray painter for an engineering firm - You wouldn’t believe the hard time I had convincing the Foreman that I needed a face mask with filters to spray two part epoxy!
At least things have improved. The only photo I have is on the Certificate of Appreciation I received when I moved on from what was probably the best job I ever had due to personal reasons. There is a lengthy story in itself behind that piece of paper. But, that is me in the yellow HAZMAT suit. I wish I could tell you exactly what we were taking samples of, but it was some seriously nasty shite… about as nasty and would do to you pretty much the same as Phenol.
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Haha the herding cats thing at the bottom… (and boy do I know that feeling)
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Inspired by a ‘swearing in the workplace’ post in Visual Jokes or Intensity - Visual Jokes or Intensity - #4233 by Scoop
Circa 1992. Location: Surveillance Platoon, 1st Division Intelligence Company - Platoon planning office. The quotes might not be 100% correct but definitely sum it up.
The lads rock up to office after PT one morning to find that some prig has placed a large mason jar with a neatly printed label “Swear Jar”, “Gold Coin Donation”. on the counter just inside the door.
“What the ■■■■ is this ■■■■” was exclaimed by one digger (and in far more colourful language by most). “Who gives a ■■■■, it’s a donation, so it’s ■■■■■■■ optional you dickheads” said one of the wiser soldiers…
About this time one of the new Subbies (Lieutenant) poked his head into the office.
At this stage it should be pointed out that seeing an Int Corps LT in the wild was a rare thing - Much like enlisted soldiers, they had to earn their stripes in an Arms Corps for 12-18 months before they did their initial Int training, followed by some intermediate courses and usually their first posting was as a Captain… Which is why our Platoon Commander was a Captain.
This particular specimen was in the process of transferring from the Army Reserve (Territorial Army for the Brits, and more akin to National Guard for my US friends) to Regular Forces. So, he was in a bit of a holding pattern until the next Infantry ROBC started and had been ‘seconded’ to us for some OJT in the meantime. Anyway, back to the story…
“Oh, G’day Sir, didn’t see you there, some stupid ■■■■ thought this would be a good idea” - said one of the Corporals and points to the jar
“Yeah, I wonder who that fuckwit was” and numerous other opinions on the matter ensued.
“Ahem, that would be me” said the Subbie. “Gents the language around here is rather ‘blue’ and it is rubbing off. Only just last night I accidentally swore in front of my Mother”. “I thought if we had to put a gold coin into the jar every time we said a word such as ■■■■ or ■■■■, or heaven forbid ■■■■, then it might be a bit more civilised around here?”
“So Sir, you’re saying this isn’t really optional?” “Well in that ■■■■■■■ case, this should tide me over until ■■■■■■■ mornos” - places a ten dollar note into the jar.
Rapidly followed by the rest of the Platoon doing the same with everything from a handful of loose change to a fifty!
- the usual morning banter ensues while we wait for the Boss (PL Commander) and SGT to arrive.
Next to arrive was the Sarge, who spies the jar. “Oh for fucks sake. what stupid ■■■■ thought this would be a good idea?”
From the back of the room a very sheepish LT raises his hand, “Oh, that would be me Sergeant. I just thought…”
“And what where you going to do with the money, Sir?” interrupted the SGT.
“Well, donate to a charity” said the LT.
“Sir, please come with me so that I can explain the ‘administration of non-public monies in the ADF’. The rest of you lot carry on, the boss will be here soon.”
And that is the incredibly brief history of the Surveillance Platoon swear jar. For those who are wondering, all the money was put over the bar at the next Platoon ■■■■ up.
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It is hard to visit Mudspike and not read another ‘trigger’ that reminds me of my military service. This time it is a photo of a 707 - Where Are You Photos [2023] - #173 by ST0RM
Another Surveillance Platoon story. Back in 1993, before all the ‘menial’ tasks had been outsourced to civvy contractors, soldiers were still rostered for extra work such as mess duty, guard duty and in our case Company Orderly Room duty. Usually it wasn’t a bad gig, air con and a break from all the shite tasks that you usually got saddled with when back in ‘barracks’.
It just so happened that one day when I was rostered for Orderly Room duty was the same day that three Blackhawks from "Oakey’ were visiting and it had been teed up for us and Recon Platoons from 6 and 8/9 RAR to do a bit of rappelling.
The Ord room (and Company HQ) was in a separate building and about as far from the Surveillance Pl compound as you could get, but as the lads headed off to the LZ they made a point of filing past the counter (where I was seated) and pepper me with comments such as “Sucked in shitbag, we’re doing some rappelling today, what are you doing… Oh, that’s right”
Fuming and having to deal with a crusty old Ord room Sgt who thought the best use of my time was to go through files and find any folios that weren’t stapled ‘correctly’ then remove the staple and re-staple them. I was about a nanosecond away from an insubordination charge…
After lunch and just as I was considering slashing my wrists (or at least giving myself enough of a paper cut so that the Sarge didn’t want me bleeding all over his files) a signal came in over the fax. “Better get that” said the SGT. I swear, the fat lazy SOB hadn’t moved from his chair all day except to go to the toilet or grab a ‘goffer’ from the fridge.
I had to read the sig a couple of times for it to sink in. “I’d better show this to the 2IC straight away sarge” I said, “What the ■■■■ are you waiting for then” he said.
I knocked on the door to the COY 2IC’s office and informed him that 3 BDE Int Section were requesting a LCPL or CPL to augment them in the BDE CP for the upcoming Ex Tropic Lightning to be held in Hawaii.
“Well, I would say that the first LCPL or CPL to hand me a minute nominating themself would get to go” said the 2IC… I was a LCPL at the time.
I think the total time to return to the Ord Rm, write a minute and literally thrust it into the 2IC’s hand was less than 5 minutes 
Later that afternoon, and once again the boys thought they would take another opportunity to rub it in, only this time to be greeted by me with a huge ■■■■ eating grin on my face:
Excercise Tropic Lightning was a US Army 25th Infantry Division Command Post Excercise (CPX) based on a renewed invasion of South Korea by the North. The Australian Army 3rd Brigade had also been deployed in support. It was also colloquially known as Ex Tropical Holiday, because although the CPX only ran for 4 days, we would be in Hawaii for two weeks, so we had a ‘fair bit’ of R&R.
To top it off, while I was there I managed to meet a few of the LRS guys and that turned into an extra two months seconded to them after the CPX. Spent most of that time on the Big Island, but was awesome fun and made some lifelong friends along the way.
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