Canteens are great. They hold alot of water and on top of that, you can have it on-the-go. It’s VERY convenient. Sadly, I don’t really use them all too often. I wish I did. I think that they’d be a vital part of my life if I chose to apply them. Yes.
The canteens were empty. They were 300 miles from basic civilization and the canteens were empty. “You do realize a proper quartermaster would have planned ahead?” The director sighed. “Ms. X you do realize this is fiction. The canteens give the story its momentum.”
I was with my friend in the canteen at work drinking coffee and my friend said did you see that elephant I danced with last night and I just pictured her dancing with an elephant and sprayed my coffee all over everyone laughing about it
The canteen at his side was dry. He had given his all and had nothing to replenish his parched soul with. Was there even a drop left in there? He turned it up and what spilled out was a life, lost life, drained to bare walls and bottom.
who even uses the word canteen? ok if you camp a lot… if you happen to own one instead of a traditional water bottle. I haven’t seen a canteen being used since my father (a veteran) stored his collection in the garage. Weird.
she stood in line, another line, keeping in line. handing over penny-coins to pay for the canteen lunch, it was just another lunch, another day, another penny-coin to give away.
she could give them to the man on the street, after she walked out of there. he probably needed the penny-coins more than she did. but she slipped the penny-coin to the lunch lady, like in elementary school, and took another lunch, on another day.
Walking slowly through the jungle, the canopy above obliterating the sun, my canteen slipped from my fingers and spilled the last of my water into the mud.
a canteen is a container that holds water. it is used in places such as the desert where water is scarce. It is often seen in movies where treasure hunters are crossing the desert in Egypt while raiding pyramids looking for treasure and gold. Movies that use this type of scene are The Mummy, and Indiana Jones.
He looked at the canteen and the final drops within it. Could he do it? Could he drink the last drops of the elixir that had allowed the others before him through the gates of heaven? Was the horrific scene in front of him the final test before the eternal? He drank.
my canteens are as important to me as my m16
these forest greens….
hold my henney and when the world hurts my feelings
i kill my kidneys,
slowly……. whilst hoping for healing.
I dragged myself into the canteen for breakfast. It was a dark, murky room filled with dark murky people. It was my sort of place, I had the usual, sat down, and took a long drag from my cigarette.
Canteens of water made a hefty profit in the war season. Local boys would fill up any they could scrounge up, and sell them to the troops with ridiculous mark-ups. Well, it seemed ridiculous to me, it seemed to be a sort of tradition for the people here. Sell your canteens in merchant season, buy them back at ten to twenty times the original price in war season. Perhaps most remarkable was the fact that there was a set by-play, perfected over the generations. The kid would come up to a soldier with a canteen filled to the brim with well-water, offer a price so outrageous the richest man on earth wouldn’t be able to buy it, and gave a wide, toothy smile. The soldier would swat the kid over the head, call him an idiot, and give a return price that was so low it wouldn’t buy you a single sip of malt. The kid would pout, then look very fierce for a couple of seconds, and they would always, always arrive at a happy medium. The soldier grumbled about it as if he’d been ripped off (which, of course, he had), and the kid would smirk, before running off to get his next canteen. In all my years here, I have never seen a single kid deviate from that set pattern. It’s almost ritualistic in its intensity, truly a most remarkable phenomenon.
A thirsty desert orders a beer. The bartender, feeling particularly perky and/or quirky, includes a tiny, turquoise umbrella. The desert is touched by this thoughtfulness. “I have never,” it says, “in my life enjoyed such shade.”
I went to the army store to buy a canteen, because when you’re going camping for the first time and you’re like me, you’ve got to have everything just like in the magazines. You know, the ones like L.L. Bean, where the photos are glossy and everyone is thin and smiling and looks great. And there are no mosquitos because on the perfect camping trip, there are no mosquitoes and everyone smiles all the time. And I wanted my first camping trip to be first. Especially because I was pretty sure it would also be my last. You see, I only try things once. Or most things. But that’s until I met this guy Jim at the army store. I think he changed my mind about camping. And about trying things more than once.
Start the fire. Light the candle. Bring us back to the place where I once was. Inside this empty canteen I can see the things I never wanted to. Living outside the dark abyss. Hold me close because tonight is the last night. I set this all on fire.
I held the canteen in my hand as i hiked onward. It was vast. I was thirsty. And quite tired. But there was excitement sparking inside me. Charles was walking further ahead. This was the place we both wanted to be.
My canteen was empty. How could it be empty already? Glancing down at my watch I realized how much time had really passed. I was parched. I’d been hiking for so long, and I had no idea where I was. I kept moving, eventually reaching a bluff where I decided to take a break. As I sat waiting a stranger passed; I immediately begged for a drink of water. Not only did they offer me a drink, they also provided an extra map and encouraging words. We need more kind strangers in this hot hot world.
when i was at school, the word was tuck shop. well it was here in the schools in NZ. In Malaysia, we used to call it canteen. Chippies, toasted sandwich, pies and lollies are what I remembered buying from the canteen.
“here, take it. Its all your gunna get for days.”
I handed him my canteen, filled to the brim with the delicious water. Water that we needed so badly to survive this prolonged trek through the endless desert that was so vital to wining this war. For us americans, we are all that was left.. if we failed, the american dreams and ideals will be gone and forgotten forever.
Every day a language dies. its words forgotten and its dialects in disuse.
The canteen was dry. The desert was relentless and infinite. The sun above, well, I don’t even want to talk of that. It is the bane of all things. The canteen was dry. I can’t even remember its weight before, the feel of liquid. The shift of gravity. The canteen is dry, and I am lost.
She took the canteen out of its holder and took a long swig. She remembered when it used to be full. But what’s the use now? It was almost empty anyways. She might as well finish it. She stopped, looked at it, then took the last sips. In the desert she didn’t know where to find water. Too bad she would die soon.
My lips tore apart and a few drops of blood dripped slowly. My mouth was dusty, dry, and parched. If only my hiking partner had filled the canteen before leaving into the desert. But there’s no use yelling at a dehydrated corpse.
She stopped off at the little shack, just for a beer. Just a beer. Then she would go to the beach. But the man shook her off guard, there in the honeyed sun, leaning against the counter, chatting up the pretty cashier. Without warning, she wanted him, rather than a beer, but she knew she would not be able to have him. Deep down, she knew.
her bandanna wrapped around her wrist was so tight she felt constricted for air. it had been there such a long time that without it she felt alone. this journey the she had to take was one she must do alone, a lone battle and a fight she could do without.
Canteen — a great place to put your water. They have been around a long time. They made it through the west with the cowboys, then through the military in all the major wars.
i pull my canteen to my lips and sip the clear, cool water. it’s been such a long day. the sun beats down still upon the back of my neck and i adjust the strap on my wobbly straw hat. too many hours left. too many miles. drink up now, for who knows when i will stop again?
There was a small canteen, just about two feet away, but of course, it was placed so inconveniently in the desert.
Why did something so typical be so needed at a time like this?
I didn’t get it. It was burning, hot and dry…and I needed water. That’s all I knew.
I think of water, crystal clear thirst quenching water from a BIG canteen. I think of an ocean and of running streams with Native people filling up their canteens with water and drinking.
i have a canteen
i take it camping with me sometimes
my friends like it
it is green
it likes to be at a campground
it usually holds water
unless i drink it all then it is just an empty canteen
i wish i had a bigger one
it is too small for long walks
which sucks
maybe a texas sized canteen
nah, then it probably wouldnt hold water anymore … hehehe
oh my canteen
you know what i mean
they have shitty food…not always but most of the times you know.salad and stuff like that. yogurt.pasta.
ehec-cucumber. no tomatoes anymore! such a waste.
The canteen is always filled with busy minds and watchful eyes. So hard to evade their piercing stares. Look away. They don’t know you, you don’t know them.
back of the truck, the aroma of fresh coffee… mystery meat? no thanks but man am i starving silver metal shining small crowd gathers wait your turn and try to figure it out… is it bologna? why is it gray? i’m not as hungry as i thought i was
i sat in the canteen. The smell of poorly cooked food seeped the service hatch. He was meant to meet me here, where is he? I then knew for us to bring a baby into the world we would have to commit to our relationship.
was filled with cool clean water, unfortunately the canteen is just out of reach. You see we were para sailing tour in the Philippines when out of nowhere a sudden gust of wind snapped the line carrying us a drift.
Scotch on the rocks – late afternoon –
– old and woody – like a good friends smile on my throat.
it’s hot here,
there is a small breeze blowing and a palm fan buzzing quietly over head but that does nothing to cool the blaze of this day.
the doors are open and the jungle is watching our every lazy move
our fingers almost touch and you shiver while goose bumps crawl up your arms.
Canteens are great. They hold alot of water and on top of that, you can have it on-the-go. It’s VERY convenient. Sadly, I don’t really use them all too often. I wish I did. I think that they’d be a vital part of my life if I chose to apply them. Yes.
The canteens were empty. They were 300 miles from basic civilization and the canteens were empty. “You do realize a proper quartermaster would have planned ahead?” The director sighed. “Ms. X you do realize this is fiction. The canteens give the story its momentum.”
I was with my friend in the canteen at work drinking coffee and my friend said did you see that elephant I danced with last night and I just pictured her dancing with an elephant and sprayed my coffee all over everyone laughing about it
The canteen at his side was dry. He had given his all and had nothing to replenish his parched soul with. Was there even a drop left in there? He turned it up and what spilled out was a life, lost life, drained to bare walls and bottom.
Only a canteen
The smallest amount
The water of life
Possibly the end..
Once it’s reached it’s end.
who even uses the word canteen? ok if you camp a lot… if you happen to own one instead of a traditional water bottle. I haven’t seen a canteen being used since my father (a veteran) stored his collection in the garage. Weird.
she stood in line, another line, keeping in line. handing over penny-coins to pay for the canteen lunch, it was just another lunch, another day, another penny-coin to give away.
she could give them to the man on the street, after she walked out of there. he probably needed the penny-coins more than she did. but she slipped the penny-coin to the lunch lady, like in elementary school, and took another lunch, on another day.
Walking slowly through the jungle, the canopy above obliterating the sun, my canteen slipped from my fingers and spilled the last of my water into the mud.
a canteen is a container that holds water. it is used in places such as the desert where water is scarce. It is often seen in movies where treasure hunters are crossing the desert in Egypt while raiding pyramids looking for treasure and gold. Movies that use this type of scene are The Mummy, and Indiana Jones.
He looked at the canteen and the final drops within it. Could he do it? Could he drink the last drops of the elixir that had allowed the others before him through the gates of heaven? Was the horrific scene in front of him the final test before the eternal? He drank.
my canteens are as important to me as my m16
these forest greens….
hold my henney and when the world hurts my feelings
i kill my kidneys,
slowly……. whilst hoping for healing.
I dragged myself into the canteen for breakfast. It was a dark, murky room filled with dark murky people. It was my sort of place, I had the usual, sat down, and took a long drag from my cigarette.
Canteens of water made a hefty profit in the war season. Local boys would fill up any they could scrounge up, and sell them to the troops with ridiculous mark-ups. Well, it seemed ridiculous to me, it seemed to be a sort of tradition for the people here. Sell your canteens in merchant season, buy them back at ten to twenty times the original price in war season. Perhaps most remarkable was the fact that there was a set by-play, perfected over the generations. The kid would come up to a soldier with a canteen filled to the brim with well-water, offer a price so outrageous the richest man on earth wouldn’t be able to buy it, and gave a wide, toothy smile. The soldier would swat the kid over the head, call him an idiot, and give a return price that was so low it wouldn’t buy you a single sip of malt. The kid would pout, then look very fierce for a couple of seconds, and they would always, always arrive at a happy medium. The soldier grumbled about it as if he’d been ripped off (which, of course, he had), and the kid would smirk, before running off to get his next canteen. In all my years here, I have never seen a single kid deviate from that set pattern. It’s almost ritualistic in its intensity, truly a most remarkable phenomenon.
A thirsty desert orders a beer. The bartender, feeling particularly perky and/or quirky, includes a tiny, turquoise umbrella. The desert is touched by this thoughtfulness. “I have never,” it says, “in my life enjoyed such shade.”
I went to the army store to buy a canteen, because when you’re going camping for the first time and you’re like me, you’ve got to have everything just like in the magazines. You know, the ones like L.L. Bean, where the photos are glossy and everyone is thin and smiling and looks great. And there are no mosquitos because on the perfect camping trip, there are no mosquitoes and everyone smiles all the time. And I wanted my first camping trip to be first. Especially because I was pretty sure it would also be my last. You see, I only try things once. Or most things. But that’s until I met this guy Jim at the army store. I think he changed my mind about camping. And about trying things more than once.
Start the fire. Light the candle. Bring us back to the place where I once was. Inside this empty canteen I can see the things I never wanted to. Living outside the dark abyss. Hold me close because tonight is the last night. I set this all on fire.
I held the canteen in my hand as i hiked onward. It was vast. I was thirsty. And quite tired. But there was excitement sparking inside me. Charles was walking further ahead. This was the place we both wanted to be.
My canteen was empty. How could it be empty already? Glancing down at my watch I realized how much time had really passed. I was parched. I’d been hiking for so long, and I had no idea where I was. I kept moving, eventually reaching a bluff where I decided to take a break. As I sat waiting a stranger passed; I immediately begged for a drink of water. Not only did they offer me a drink, they also provided an extra map and encouraging words. We need more kind strangers in this hot hot world.
when i was at school, the word was tuck shop. well it was here in the schools in NZ. In Malaysia, we used to call it canteen. Chippies, toasted sandwich, pies and lollies are what I remembered buying from the canteen.
“here, take it. Its all your gunna get for days.”
I handed him my canteen, filled to the brim with the delicious water. Water that we needed so badly to survive this prolonged trek through the endless desert that was so vital to wining this war. For us americans, we are all that was left.. if we failed, the american dreams and ideals will be gone and forgotten forever.
Every day a language dies. its words forgotten and its dialects in disuse.
Glug, glug, glug. The taste of water. It makes me gag.
I hate things that keep me alive.
I love things that are killing me.
The water from the canteen had a metal taste to it from being left in the sun too long. The sand would crunch between the cap as you twisted it off.
hiking fun experinces camp camping tents water soldiers
The canteen was dry. The desert was relentless and infinite. The sun above, well, I don’t even want to talk of that. It is the bane of all things. The canteen was dry. I can’t even remember its weight before, the feel of liquid. The shift of gravity. The canteen is dry, and I am lost.
She took the canteen out of its holder and took a long swig. She remembered when it used to be full. But what’s the use now? It was almost empty anyways. She might as well finish it. She stopped, looked at it, then took the last sips. In the desert she didn’t know where to find water. Too bad she would die soon.
My lips tore apart and a few drops of blood dripped slowly. My mouth was dusty, dry, and parched. If only my hiking partner had filled the canteen before leaving into the desert. But there’s no use yelling at a dehydrated corpse.
She stopped off at the little shack, just for a beer. Just a beer. Then she would go to the beach. But the man shook her off guard, there in the honeyed sun, leaning against the counter, chatting up the pretty cashier. Without warning, she wanted him, rather than a beer, but she knew she would not be able to have him. Deep down, she knew.
her bandanna wrapped around her wrist was so tight she felt constricted for air. it had been there such a long time that without it she felt alone. this journey the she had to take was one she must do alone, a lone battle and a fight she could do without.
Canteen — a great place to put your water. They have been around a long time. They made it through the west with the cowboys, then through the military in all the major wars.
i pull my canteen to my lips and sip the clear, cool water. it’s been such a long day. the sun beats down still upon the back of my neck and i adjust the strap on my wobbly straw hat. too many hours left. too many miles. drink up now, for who knows when i will stop again?
There was a small canteen, just about two feet away, but of course, it was placed so inconveniently in the desert.
Why did something so typical be so needed at a time like this?
I didn’t get it. It was burning, hot and dry…and I needed water. That’s all I knew.
I think of water, crystal clear thirst quenching water from a BIG canteen. I think of an ocean and of running streams with Native people filling up their canteens with water and drinking.
i have a canteen
i take it camping with me sometimes
my friends like it
it is green
it likes to be at a campground
it usually holds water
unless i drink it all then it is just an empty canteen
i wish i had a bigger one
it is too small for long walks
which sucks
maybe a texas sized canteen
nah, then it probably wouldnt hold water anymore … hehehe
oh my canteen
you know what i mean
i went on the jungle and took some things. A sleeping bag, a pillow, some food and a canteen! It kept me alive while I faced the dangers of the wild!
they have shitty food…not always but most of the times you know.salad and stuff like that. yogurt.pasta.
ehec-cucumber. no tomatoes anymore! such a waste.
The canteen is always filled with busy minds and watchful eyes. So hard to evade their piercing stares. Look away. They don’t know you, you don’t know them.
back of the truck, the aroma of fresh coffee… mystery meat? no thanks but man am i starving silver metal shining small crowd gathers wait your turn and try to figure it out… is it bologna? why is it gray? i’m not as hungry as i thought i was
i sat in the canteen. The smell of poorly cooked food seeped the service hatch. He was meant to meet me here, where is he? I then knew for us to bring a baby into the world we would have to commit to our relationship.
was filled with cool clean water, unfortunately the canteen is just out of reach. You see we were para sailing tour in the Philippines when out of nowhere a sudden gust of wind snapped the line carrying us a drift.
Scotch on the rocks – late afternoon –
– old and woody – like a good friends smile on my throat.
it’s hot here,
there is a small breeze blowing and a palm fan buzzing quietly over head but that does nothing to cool the blaze of this day.
the doors are open and the jungle is watching our every lazy move
our fingers almost touch and you shiver while goose bumps crawl up your arms.