Meeting My Waterloo

I just finished reading an historical novel set around the Civil War which is, quite possibly, the worst book ever written. For obvious reasons, I cannot tell you the author or title for fear of slander but, believe me, this has given me thoughts of running a Creative Writing course in which this book is the prime text for students to dissect. In fact, it is so awful that when I thought I would discontinue reading it, I had to decide to go on just for the sheer joy of seeing how truly awful it could get and how many anachronisms I could find. I continued with irresistible fascination or possibly an obsessive compulsion and I have got so many laughs out of this that I am now thinking of recommending it as a comedy. Just to clarify how I came upon this opus, I found it on Amazon and only after purchase did I discover online that it seems to have been published by a vanity press. Caveat Emptor, folks!
I haven’t as yet figured out what the story line actually is because two of the main characters have magically disappeared after 14o odd pages--- pun absolutely intended. However, there are quite a few gory battles of various kinds, as one might expect, and endless campfire meals and ---of even more interest--- endless descriptions of ‘making water’ or, in modern parlance, relieving oneself. Not to be too clever and sure of myself, I have read all of this with easy access to the online Etymology Dictionary.
Now, when one character answered another with the acronym ‘O.K.’ I had a great laugh. I had always been made to understand that OK came into usage during the period of the great ocean liners (along with ‘posh’ which stands for Port Over Starboard Home---although this etymology is disputed) when papers were marked OK as in ‘Oll Korrect’ by uneducated seamen. Apparently not! According to the Dictionary it came out of a fad in 1839 for using abbreviations for words and is the only survivor of that craze. Furthermore, there was an OK Club which supported Martin Van Buren’s Presidential election in 1840. One point to my author then, although I dispute whether a poor dirt farmer turned Confederate soldier would have used the expression.
However, when the character goes on to look at a revolting meal and comment “Ugh, gross!” I have to wonder which fraternity he belonged to. The use of the word ‘gross’ as meaning disgusting did not come into use until 1958, apparently, as part of student slang.
Finally, when one of the women politely says she needs to go to the bathroom—oh dear, oh dear. The Etymology Dictionary says “used 20c. in U.S. as a euphemism for a lavatory and often noted as a word that confused British travelers.” (Italics mine)
When I first moved to the UK I learned rather quickly not to use the expression as it produced gales of laughter from friends or mild confusion amongst the general public. Many years later I have returned home wired to say, “Excuse me, where is the Ladies’ Room?” If I remember, I may occasionally ask for the powder room but that term seems to now be archaic and since “ladies’ room” is understood I persist in using that. My daughter and I have both on occasion been corrected and directed to ‘the restroom’ or ‘bathroom’ but old habits die hard.
But at home, it’s the loo: “lavatory," 1940, but perhaps 1922, probably from Fr. lieux d'aisances, "lavatory," lit. "place of ease," picked up by British servicemen in France during World War I. Or possibly a pun on Waterloo, based on water closet.” (from The Online Etymology Dictionary)
After all, when I say I’m going to the loo, I’m not going to have a bath, I’m jolly well going to “make water.”