The Fake Corporal Mutiny

Because of my high school ROTC experience, I was appointed to be a fake corporal soon after arriving at basic training.  It was no big deal, there was no pay raise, and I didn't even get to sew my fake corporal stripes on my sleeve.  They gave me two fake corporal arm bands to slip over my sleeve instead.  My direct superior was a fake sergeant.  The real sergeant would give orders to the fake sergeant, who would pass them down to the fake corporals, who would pass them down to their men.
One night the fake sergeant came up to the second floor of our barracks and woke me up.  He told me that one of the guys on the first floor had left out a can of floor wax with a mop in it when we went out to training that morning and we had gotten gigged for it in the daily inspection.  The real sergeant, who lived off post, came in drunk in the middle of he night and flew into a rage when he saw that we had been gigged.  As punishment, we were supposed to scrape off all the wax from both floors with our mess kit knives immediately.  I told him that was the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard and refused to tell my men to do it.  He said that it was my duty as fake corporal to pass down any orders that he passed down to me, and that failing to do so would cause me to lose my fake corporal stripes.  To save him the trouble, I took my fake corporal arm bands off of my foot locker and handed them to the fake sergeant, announcing that I had just resigned my commission.  He then advised me that I might go to jail for disobeying a direct order, to which I replied, "Good! Maybe I can get some sleep there."

Well, I didn't go to jail, nobody even came around and talked to me about it.  The first floor got gigged that morning for not having any wax on its floor, and we didn't.  Nobody was assigned to replace me as fake corporal, and the second floor got along just fine without one.  I like to think that was because I had trained my men so well in my brief tenure as fake corporal that they became self actualized and no longer needed to be told what to do.