The story reminds me of one from my days on Active Duty.

I can't remember the full situation. But, I'll do my best:

My unit had been doing a partial mobilization for some assistance to another unit several hours south of us. The half of us that weren't going to be part of the detail (luck us, it was a super-sucky one) were tasked ot ride in the convoy as shotguns and also to move some of the larger equipment (fuel trucks, 5 tons, Deuce and halfs... that sort of thing.) When we delivered the equpiment we were all trucked back in a troop carrier 5 ton. Anyway, we were all to report to the unit at 0600 on a Saturday morning. Thursday night before we did a ruck march and some land nav and winter training on a rural part of the base, set up our equipment, dug hasty scrapes and bedded down for a couple of hours. Next morning (Friday) we tore down, rucked back and prepped all the stuff for the Saturday convoy South down the interstate.

So, I drag my dirty cold behind to my apartment about 1700 or so Friday evening. I proceed to flop down in tshirt, boots, and BDU trousers on my air mattress (I had just arrived at that duty station and TMO hadn't boated my junk from Germany just yet.) Anyway, I'm out within minutes with my little buddy Ringo (a tabby cat) bunked up with me. The next thing I remember I open my eyes and it's just light outside. I look over at my digital alarm clock on the floor and see 7:15. "Oh man, I'm TOAST!"

I jump up and scare poor Ringo half to death. I can still see him, fur on end, wide eyed in the corner of the apartment. I'm in a panic and running around accomplishing nothing but geeking out. I grab the phone and give my Staff Sgt. a call. No answer. I call my Tech Sgt. Again no answer. I'm now dialing the number for the dreaded Master Sgt. when it hits me. The "just light" outside isn't early morning. It's late evening. It's still Friday evening. My NCOs aren't answering because they're not home. I walk over to Ringo, scoop him and my stomach from the floor and go back to bed.