Perfecting the “Combat Tinkle” and “Tactical Turd” in an USAF Aircraft
Filed Under: Things I Don't Miss About the Military
Aircrew Flight Equipment Essentials
Body armor — check.
Night Vision Goggles — check.
Helmet and headset — check.
Flight manuals and checklists— check.
Grocery bag, toilet paper and a water bottle?— Most def.
Luxury Accommodations
The Air Force MC-130P — a.k.a. the Combat Shadow — was built in the 1960s, 20 years before women were allowed to fly in the military again, and 30 years before they were permitted to fly in combat.
While the main components of the aircraft didn’t change much — ya know, the wings, fuselage, and tail — there were several upgrades to its systems over its lifespan.
Want to know the two things that were never upgraded in its 50 years of active service?
The urinal and the sh*tter, the latter of which was known lovingly by its aircrews as The Honey Bucket.
For female Air Force aviators like me, this presented a unique challenge on long missions, particularly in combat zones.
My potty choices were:
Dehydrate myself for the duration of the flight
Use the issued “She-Wee” device, which functioned as an extension for those pesky, internal female organs
The Water Bottle method (patent pending)
Let’s explore these in more detail…
Strategic Dehydration
In addition to developing the crew’s flight plans and fuel plans, I also had to consider my own fill-up plan.
If I opted for the dehydration method, I had to ensure my “tank” was empty at least an hour prior to pre-flight checks. Working back from that time, I ensured my last cup of coffee was at least 6 hours prior to take-off.
Dry, unbuttered toast or crackers were my only permitted food, as to avoid a clash with the honey bucket. More on that later.
During the flight, I allowed myself small sips of water not to exceed 6 ounces total. At about the 4 hour mark of the flight, the dehydration headache nestled in, as I directed the aircraft around mountains at 300 feet AGL (above ground level).
Not to worry.
Upper-level executive function and mathematical skills are actually improved with water deprivation.
The “She-Wee”
At some point, the Air Force got smart and recognized women need to pee while flying. I was issued the beloved She-Wee.
This handy device poked conspicuously out the top of my flight-suit pocket, to alert all my male counterparts that I had to take a leak, and was a joy to clean with no sink onboard.
After completing my trip to the back of the plane, it would be tossed into an old grocery bag and forgotten about until the next flight, when I would find it in my helmet bag.
Not the most sanitary.
There had to be another way.
The Water Bottle Method
In this method, I deliberately guzzled a Gatorade, which was ideal for its wide top and smooth edges. Or, if I was really slumming it, a standard plastic water bottle.
Using my pocket knife, I would cut the top off the bottle as smoothly as I could, to avoid creating sharp, jagged edges. Drinking these beverages in flight served two purposes:
Hydration
Provide a vessel for my pee
After announcing my intention to use the commode over the intercom — “Pilot, Nav, I’m going to the back for a minute” — I would slip the water bottle and a roll of TP into my ankle pocket.
Fumbling around the cargo or, in some cases, tiptoeing around passengers, I made my way to the back of the plane and approached the urinal.
Fortunately, there was a pull-out privacy flap next to the urinal — thanks Lockheed Martin!
I’d zip my flight suit from the bottom up, shove the bottle in there and pray we didn’t hit a patch of turbulence.
When I was done, I carefully pulled the bottle of pee out of my flight suit and dumped it in the urinal. This method was certainly the most risky in terms of splashage and spillage—technical terms—but the convenience of tossing the bottle afterward could not be matched.
The Honey Bucket
You may be wondering, “But Sam, what happened if you, or one of the other crew-members had to go #2?”
Enter: the Honey Bucket.
This glorified trash can was normally stowed away, 3 feet above the cargo floor on the left side of the aircraft.
But when a crewmember said those magic words:
“Loadmaster, release the honey bucket”
…we were all in for a treat.
At this request, the two loadmasters in the back of the aircraft had to crank the receptacle down from its venerable position on the wall to the cargo floor.
As this was their favorite task, they often sang while they worked.
The poop-filled crewmember would then make their walk of shame to the back of the plane, carrying their black trash bag and toilet paper. If they were especially considerate, they also brought their “Poo-Pourri” or Febreeze spray.
In the more likely event that the crew-member had eaten spicy nachos with a side of cheesy squeeze for lunch, no such benevolence was shown.
Unlike the urinal, there was no privacy flap for the honey bucket. The humiliated crewmember had to do their business out in the open, as passengers and crew alike averted their eyes.
One could not, however, avert one’s nose.
The confines of the aircraft walls became claustrophobic as the smell of poo overwhelmed the normal smell of cancer and 60- year old farts emanating from the aircraft’s chairs, and entered the crew’s nostrils.
For the remainder of the flight, the shamed crewmember had to keep his or her trash bag of excrement in their helmet bag.
Adding to the embarrassment was the fact that we had to alert the maintenance crews on the ground that we were carrying “hazardous bio-waste.”
Upon landing, the crew- member was responsible for properly disposing of their shite in the appropriate HAZMAT bin.
To use this option, you had to embrace your inner honey badger and truly “not give a sh*t” about what others thought of you.
Pending any questions, this concludes my briefing
You now know more than you ever wanted to know about the toilet troubles female aviators face flying in the wild blue yonder.
I endured these hardships to preserve our national security and to protect your freedom. Feel free to thank me for my service. ;)
Hey, I'm Sam.
I'm an Air Force veteran and military spouse. I write LinkedIn posts and newsletter articles to help veterans with their transition from the military and to advocate for military spouse employment.
Sending you a very big THANK YOU for your service after reading that! :)