The diet of the Turret Monster consists of anything that drops into the base of the turret, where it quickly vanishes out of sight, to be followed by sounds of 'Nom Nom Nom'.
With a rich palate varying from 7.62mm casings to mobile phones, GPS units, crumbs from Biscuit Brown and Egg Banjo's, the Monster leads a content and happy life and has a particular fondness for bolts and nuts from fittings inside the turret. Usually the same size of bolts your QM(T) has just ran out of.
Sometimes they are known to horde the items, allowing a later recovery once you've found someone small enough to be hung upside down by their ankles whilst they try and fish out the dropped items with a CQB antennae.
More often than not though, anything dropped is quickly consumed and never seen again.
- "Have you got that bolt off yet?"
- "Yeah, almost there."
- "Don't drop the bloody thing."
- "I've got it, I've g.. *dink*...NOM NOM NOM..... Fuck."
It should be noted that the Turret Monster is also responsible for around 70% of short-term AWOL reports, when the Crew Commander sends the Troop sprog in to the turret to do a fairly basic job, and the little shit isn't seen again until after NAAFI.
During the late 80's and early 90's, an order also went out to all armoured Regiments that no-one was to sleep inside the vehicles. This was in relation to the allegation of deaths through carbon monoxide and general toxic fume inhalation. The reports are still buried under the 30 year rule, but it's known within the circles that the cause of death was actually a Turret Monster that got a taste of blood after someone cut themselves trying to wrestle out the GPMG.