So, I was asked to share my getting shot by a ND story, and so I will. It's not really a blooper though!!!
It happened during Operation Desert Storm. We had stopped in order to do some basic maintenance and what not. My gunner pulled out his pistol to clean it, forgetting that he had a loaded magazine in. He racked the slide, nothing flew out, and so he assumed his pistol was unloaded, when in fact he had obviously just loaded it. Anyway, as opposed to easing the hammer down, he just pulled the trigger, and that was that. We were maybe 5 feet apart, and I was sort of squatting and writing a letter home at the time. The bullet went right through me, and my first response was to stand up and think "hey, what the hell just happened here?". I went down pretty quick, and my platoon mates immediately started first aid. I was lucky in that the corpsmen were coming back from a meeting and were close to our trac, and so I ended up with 4 or 5 corpsmen on me in probably a little less than a minute. There were some logistical issues getting me to a helo pad, and so after being more or less stabilized at the BAS, I was treated to a 60 mile Hummer ride over open desert (sucks) while getting bag after bag after bag of blood pumped into me. The blood would make a lap, hit the wound, flow into my stomach, I would puke it up and the cycle would renew. Curiously, the closest place to actually land a helo was an Army POW camp that my good and oldest friend Nate was stationed at! So, once we got there, I got loaded onto a helo, and promptly passed out. I didn't wake up again that I remember for about 2 days.
In terms of the damage done, I lost a kidney, had to have some intestines removed, and had to have my stomach patched up. I have always considered myself lucky to have not been wearing a flak jacket at the time, because I think that the bullet would have expanded more than it did (if in fact it expanded at all), and that would have been bad given how close to my spine the exit wound was.
Blooper-wise, a couple of years later in Somalia I happened to run across this MP Gunny that I had never seen before. He looked at me and said "Hey, is your name Marquart?", to which I said "yes, how do you know that, Gunny?" Evidently, I gave him a hilarious interview at the fleet 5 field hospital after I got out of surgery. To this day, I do not recall even one second of that interview, but apparently I was cracking jokes and what not.
Probably the worst part about the whole experience was seeing the look on my friends face after it happened. If I never see a human make a face like that again, it will be too soon. He very literally was as white as a ghost, and he just had this sort of stunned, horrified look on his face that I will never forget. It sounds silly, but I think I actually felt worse for him than I did for me at that particular moment, and any anger or hatred that might have developed towards him was squashed right then and there.
The fact is, had he done any of three things that we were supposed to do (Visually look, ease the hammer down, make sure the gun is pointed in a safe direction), I would not have been hit. However, humans make mistakes, particularly when they are tired, and I suffered as a result. Philosophically speaking, it was avoidable, and it shouldn't have happened, but it did and being angry about it wouldn't have changed anything. In fact, some very positive things happened to me as a direct result of that gunshot, so while I wish I had my kidney back, I am also thankful for having lived through the experience.