Malicious Compliance                                                                        

by Sean

Every veteran usually has "war stories" in their back pocket if they didn't accidentally kill their own buddies by accident.  Here is one of mine. Trust me, it's all true. After all I got in enough trouble for it. 

Usually there is a lag time in getting security clearances when being moved from one country to another.  I had been stationed in Peshawar, Pakistan.  Better known to civilians as the Kiber Pass.  I got a brief leave home and then was suppose to report to Frankfort, Germany.  I was elated at getting such a posh assignment after the misery of 125 degree heat in the shade and there was no shade. 

In the interim I had to pull details.   Military jargon meaning  "dirty work".   A  Jewish rebel, Bernie and I were told to report to Major Henebre.  He loved to snap his fingers and wriggle his finger for us to come closer after we had performed our customer salute.  I absolute hate having anyone snap their fingers at me like I am some sort of slavish grunt ready to be at his beck and call.  But he was impervious at  the grimace on my face.

As Bernie and I dutifully approached his desk, he reperched his glasses to his nose that allowed him to peer up at us in a most contemptuous way.  "Now boys", he spoke so slowly and deliberately to make sure that even a Neanderthal could understand him.          "I want this room painted all white."  To add insult to injury, he ordered me to repeat his order.  "You want the room all white", I repeated back his order mechanically with a special emphasis on the word "all".   The major didn't pick up on the bitterness in my voice but Bernie did.  He was holding his head down grinning from ear to ear. 

The major wasn't done ordering us about.  He was a stickler for working out every detail to make sure that his orders were followed to the letter.  He told us where to get the paint, the brushes, the sticks to stir, what size brushes we should get and how long he expected it to take.  The major tapped his watch and ordered us to look up at the wall clock as if he was showing us how to tell time. "It's now exactly 0913,  I am going to factor in that neither of you have any experience in painting rooms, let alone a military intelligence officer's room."  "I am also going to factor in two ten minute breaks and an hour for lunch and time to clean up the brushes and return unused paint."   "Set your watches now boys", his voice was now on a cavalier roll.  "You should be wrapping up at  17:30 hours" .  "I want two coats, do understand that I don't mean this type of coat, Airman Hamilton", tugging at his dress blues. "Yes sir", I mumble.  "I can't hear you Airman Hamilton", he barked like a basic training drill instructor.  "Yes sir", I yelled.  Inwardly I knew he had crossed the line.  I didn't care about that Gold Leaf on his shoulder or how immaculately clear his desk was. 

The major was going to his closet and grabbing his golf clubs.  "One more small detail, boys", he was relishing his power with a full condescending tone.  "In order not to paint yourselves in a corner", you Airman Hamilton take that corner and you Airman Traub, what kind of name is that"?  "Jewish?"  "You take that corner".   "Oh by the way, I expect to see you both front and center here tomorrow at 0900 hours in those same fatigues and I expect them to be spotless."  He dialed his aide to come and carry his clubs.  In a moment we were left alone.

Bernie couldn't help but burst out aloud, "can you believe that ass hole?"   "Who does he think he is talking to - slaves?"  "Two coats", my voice was mockingly imitating  the Major's.  "I want it all white".  "And did I tell you two coats?  I can't hear you".  Turning to Bernie in my own voice, "How do we get this bozo?"  Bernie snapped his fingers as if he had a divine revelation, "Let's paint it all black with a white trim and a big red swastika over that door and a pair of golden leaves on that empty desk".  I was laughing so hard I grabbed my stomach and then gave a Seig Heil salute as I simulated a golf swing.  I made a practical suggestion, "let's take a slow walk back to the squad and work out the details provided we don't paint ourselves in a corner first."

Finally we settled on a solution, we would paint the room just as we were order - ALL WHITE!  When we hit on this solution, we were inspired.  We even took off our pants and shirts in order not to get any paint on them.  Everything got painted "white". Ceiling, walls, floors, window panes even the desk, chair and phone were double-coated. Nothing was spared. Electrical switches, doorknobs and overhead light fixtures were not missed. 

The major got his wish!  When we finally wrapped up, well ahead of schedule, we put on our fatigues and carefully painted the last final squares near the entrance.  We looked long at our masterpiece. Everything seemed to disappear in marvelous undifferentiated malicious compliance.  We expected to be punished but we also had a feeling that we would not be painting any more major's offices anytime soon.

That night Bernie and I went out to October Fest in Saachenhausen.  We spent the night going back and forth from toasting our defiance to wondering what punishment we would receive. At exactly 0835 the next morning a second lieu called our master sergeant and the Air Police were sent to escort us to sergeant's office.   Sergeant White, I kid you not,  was trying to reassure the lieu that we would be severely punished. Before we were allowed to enter we could here Sergeant White laughing out aloud at the description being given on how well we had done our job. 

I was feeling noble as we were forced to wait at attention with the two Air Police glaring at us. "Let me take the flack", I whispered to Bernie.  One of the zealous Air Police escorts told me that I was not allowed to speak.   Somehow the AP's knew when to open the sergeants's door. It was 0900 so Bernie and I knew we weren't going back to the major's office. 

"I ought to have you both busted", the sergeant had his stern voice on.  "But that would be too easy on you two and cause me a ton of paper work," he was keeping himself on growl by tapping his pipe on his palm."   "What do you two have to say  about the stupid stunt you pulled", he was half coughing, half pretending to sneer. "The major had me repeat the order that he wanted the room all white,  who am I to correct an order from an officer", I gave it my best shot.  Bernie chimed in with the classic quote we all got in basic training, "we just followed orders, we aren't supposed to think".  

We got an Article 15 - that amounted to two weeks of confinement to barracks and I was ordered to pull KP at the army mess hall on Thanksgiving.  But that is another story.