Doesn't offend me - been called that before.
Did an exercise back in 1986 or 1987 - middle of summer in WA. Our platoon went out in the afternoon sun, when it was about 40 in the shade, and spent a few hours doing practice attacks up a pile of rocks masquerading as a hill. Each section took turns to attack some gooks (as they were back then) dug in up the top.
The trouble with the plastic blank ammo that we used was that after you'd put a lot of it through the gun, it left a thick residue of gunk in the chamber and barrel, and when that started to smoke (from overheating), it let off a quite disgusting smoke.
Apart from the gun overheating, I also overheated. I got heatstroke. To top it off, on the last attack, I found myself in the middle of a large patch of broken glass. Not grass - glass. The glass and the rocks and the crawling around and the vibration from firing the gun all teamed up to slice me up nicely. Not enough to need stitches, but I had the sort of cuts and abrasions on my arms, legs and abdomen that I get these days from coming off the bike at 40km/h and sliding along the bitumen.
So there I am, sliced up and bleeding, half delirious with heat stroke and then I get a lung full of the yucky smoke from the gun. I start chundering. But the attack hasn't finished, and according to the DS, I haven't been shot, so I keep on going.
I was not in a good way when it was all over. In fact, I was fucked. Fucked enough to get stuffed into an ambulance and carted back to the RAP. The medics were ready for this sort of thing - there were old empty houses on the training range, and they'd raided one and nicked a bath tub. It was full of ice, and in I went.
As I was lying there cooling off, one of them was kind enough to give me some porn to look at.
The ice stopped the cuts from bleeding, but there was enough blood on me to turn the icy slush a nice pink colour. I'd also managed to throw up in front of myself whilst crawling, and then crawled through it. It had been hot all week, and I hadn't had a shower for a week. I was a yucky, stinky mess - typical infantryman really.
One of our old soldiers rolled up - one of our training staff. He'd been out with us. He'd done Malaya and been to Vietnam a few times. He was a tough old bastard - been there, done that etc etc.
He looked at me reading the porno in a tub of bloody ice.
Old digger: "How are you feeling, digger?"
Me: "Much better sir"
Old digger: "Will you be right to go out again today?" Medics start shaking their heads.
Me: "Absolutely sir".
Old digger: "Bike, you are a sick cunt. Possibly the sickest cunt I have seen all week. Keep it up."
Me: "Thank you sir!"
Coming from a bloke like that, that was high praise indeed.
I've fixed up the spelling errors and linked to the comment. I type like crap at 0600 hrs - should stick to typing at night.