They once "borrowed" our truck, hidden in a thicket near our track, to drive from gun to gun, picking up the .50 cal to take back to the weapons tent, rather than hump them across the field.
But then it was chow time, so they left the truck, and the weapons, and headed for the chow line.
A couple of other gun bunnies decided to skip chow, and take the truck to the middle-of-nowhere party store for beer and poagie bait, not knowing or caring that there were six machineguns sitting in the open in the back.
The first we knew there was a problem was the First Sergeant came storming into the tent on the back of our track, demanding to know where our truck and his ma deuces were. He had the two clowns digging 6x6x6 holes for the rest of summer camp when he caught them.