Mugs and Jugs

Henry Dorchester had just been assigned to assist the cannoneers in sounding the time using a one pound shot fired from the smooth barrel of the regiment's finest gun, Big Bess. She was wonderful, copper bodied, sturdy red wooden wheels and some delicate vine decorations on her butt.

At a minute till noon Henry had to hand the Thunder Jug—full of black powder—to Cannoneer Green and his assistant, private brown. They would then use that to ignite the cannon's fuse and fire the noon shot to signal the men that it was time to take respite from their duties.

"The Thunder Jug, Mister Dorchester, if you please," Green ordered.

Henry had never seen the vessel before. He looked wildly around his superior's tent and grabbed the first porcelain piece that must surely be what he was looking for. It was empty except for a vile mound of excrement. Surely this was a mistake but seeing no other options, Henry quickly filled his find to the top with gunpowder.

By the time Henry made it back, Mister Reid had finished worming the bore, pricking the primer. Cannoneer Green already held the lit torch. "Left it a little long Mister Dorchester," he complained. "Hurry, place the Jug, every moment matters."

Obediently, the porcelain vessel was placed in the charge pan. Before it registered that this was not what had been requested, the spark lit the gunpowder.

BOOM!

Feces and porcelain sprayed all three of them blanketing them in a smell worse than normal cannon fire. Rotten eggs mingled with notes of smoldering manure.

Their unconventional wounds were treated but developed gangrene so Green, Reid and Dorchester all lost limbs but kept their lives. Unfortunately, the enlisted men now referred to their superiors as "The Brown Notes." All because Henry Dorchester didn't know a Thunder Mug and a Thunder Jug are not interchangeable.