I remember riding a PATH train back to NJ and simply peeing and smoking in between cars...back then that was the least of their concerns.
When ya gotta go...
Another favorite story of mine was when I was in the USN back in 1978, we were on liberty in Barcelona, and after a wild night on the town, we were pretty sloshed, and had to take a launch back to the ship.
It was crazy.
The seas were so rough, there were several launches circling, all full of drunk sailors who had all been drinking, which meant there were not only full bladders, there were guys puking over the side. I think (but cannot remember clearly) that it may have been a 50-60 foot boat, two canvas covers (with the one towards the bow covered at the very front, a possibly three foot space, then the next canvas cover open fore and aft, with the Coxswain at the stern. There were 50-100 men (I don’t remember how many, but the Coast Guard would not have approved) all completely packed in like sardines, all standing nut-to-butt except for the guys who got there first and got seats.
They had a big platform at the stern of the carrier that the boats would come up to, which in calm weather was perfectly fine. In this weather, the boat would rise five feet above the platform, then fall five feet below it, repeat this several times, and then in just the right conditions, the gunwale of the launch and the platform would be at the same level for a few seconds, and zip-zip-zip-zip three or four guys would leap to the platform, then the up and down gyrations would begin again.
So...unloading the launches was extremely slow, and exceedingly dangerous given the intoxicated state of many of the men. I often wonder if they would even attempt such a thing today. Someone could have easily fallen between the platform and the heaving boat and been killed or badly injured. I shake my head thinking of it.
As a result, we circling and circling around for about 45 minutes waiting our turn at the platform. People were drunk, and the crowd of men became unruly, with a few fights breaking out. It was pouring rain too, and if you were dumb enough to stand in the gap between the canvas covers, it was a great joke to push up on the canvas from the inside to pour the water out on the hapless guys standing in the gap and right under where it ended. (you learned not to stand there after the first time some clown pushed the bulging canvas to dump the seawater or rainwater out on you)
Round and round we went, with the diesel fumes strong in our noses, pitching and rolling with the water coming in. There were a few Shore Patrol guys on the boat, and one of them was a buddy who was in my squadron, and when things began getting unruly, I distinctly heard a nasty voice shout over the din “F**K THE SHORE PATROL!” and sailors began repeating it! My buddy took the Shore Patrol armband off his arm! At one point, I looked to see a guy standing on the side peeing over the side! (my back teeth were absolutely floating, and I was in agony so I wondered if I should do that too) when one of the Shore Patrol looking at the peeing guy from his back shouted at him “YOU! GET DOWN OFF OF THERE!” In my line of sight, the guy looked directly at me, a stream of pee coming out of him, and made a show of mimicking someone being violently ill and barfing, and I saw the Shore Patrol guy decide he didn’t want to interfere with it!
Eventually, we got up to the platform and began the tedious unloading. As my brain told my screaming bladder we were getting closer to the head, the bladder only began to scream louder. I was squeezing with one hand with everything I had. Finally, I got on the platform, and there was a nearby head. In my whole life, that was the worst I ever had to go. It was agonizing, and...in that, memorable.