Our Military XVI

Sorry to have not done this feature in a while, but here are some explanations readers gave of why they joined the military. I plan to alternate between these and other stories in the future. I now have a lot of stories waiting to be posted, but, if you'd like to give your own explanation of why you joined the military or have a military story, please e-mail me with the subject "Military". Thanks.

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Alan Anderson writes:

Why I went in the Marines...by me

First I have to date myself, this was almost 44 full years ago..

Working class neighborhood, South Side of Chicago....

Uncles worked in the steels mills, set tile, nailed boards....

Old man, old country type guy worked in soap works, made a hell of a lot of soap, you start by cooking down a whooole lot of pig fat, stinks, plant runs 24/7.. Steel mills run 24/7..
Sherwin-Williams paint plant runs 24/7 stinks even worse than soap works..
Steel mills very hot, lot of fire, (they were not called "open hearth" for no reason) break back shoveling...Illinois Central Grand Central Yards very cold in Chicago winters..

None of the above really appeals to me, saw it all first hand, rather wash dishes

No urge to go to college, not a lot of money, old man doesn't believe in college.. draft waiting unless I want to be a father at 19 oh oh no go with that option....

Late High School experiences show me that a life on the dark side is not for me..I always got caught..but in those days anything up to a Felony can be settled with a good beating and a threat to call the old man...

Wild Uncle Peter (I only knew family stories) killed in USAAF, North Atlantic, 1943.., Uncle Martin flew off carriers in the Pacific 1944-1945 after training on carriers in Lake Michigan, he very glad the Bomb dropped... whacked out cousin Brent wandering the world in submarines, since 1952, cold off North Korea...

Time to get out of town and bond with the crazy side of my family, Staff Sergeant recruiter asked "you sure you want four years??" Yep, why not....

What happened then???

Grew up fast...learned I was smarter than I thought...given a whole lot of responsibility when I was still a teenager..radios, airplanes, bombs, on my own on strange islands responsible for nine others and a boat full of gear before I was 20..

Had a ringside, sea borne, seat at the Kennedy-Johnson follies of 1962, 63, 64, and 65.. On my way to Cuba while Kennedy jerked around...on my way to VN before and after Kennedy Ok'd the hit on Diem.. sailing into Yokosuka the day Kennedy shot (good liberty and got drunk, quart of Gordons Gin 89 cents at the Navy NCO club if I remember correctly)..back to VN when Johnson finally managed to imitate his hero and Token Gulf blew up... up and down the Mekong, back up north, back south, listening to Armed Forces Radio report that Johnson was calling Goldwater a warmonger, HA...Politics time, can't have any formal troop landings so soon after the election and over Christmas...on to Hong Kong, best eight day liberty of my life...back to States, on to North Carolina..can't stand it...can't get transferred "you been to VN can't leave the States for a year OOPS revolution in Dominican Republic..you guys got to go,you know how to do it for real..."But Gunny you said" ..OK last time....watched Moran almost go blind on rot gut bootleg rum....beat the Airborne in by four days...Ha

Came within a week of re-enlisting.. Received my hiring letter for the Chicago Police Department four days before I was going to re-up...GI Bill very very good to me...couple of degrees and another 35 years of chasing another type of barbarian in another type of jungle...

Nothing I had to do for the rest of my life presented a problem which could not be solved or accommodated, the Corps gave me all the tools I would ever need...Other than my kids the best thing that ever happened to me..

Two great kids (one Army Major) five tremendous grandchildren. I am a happy man....

UPDATE: Alan wants to add that his eighteen year old neice reports to Marine Corps, Parris Island, in October, so let's wish her luck and God's protection.

LCpl Baisley, USMC, writes:

The draft should be a no-go. I would not want to be fighting along side of some one who does not want to be there. as far as the comment about only poor people joining up the military, I am gonna have to disagree, just about all of my buddies come from regular middle class, there are even a few rich ones here and there. I definitely did not come from a poor family and had plenty of options. I joined because I wanted to serve my country and kill people who don’t like it. And I went with the Marines, because if you are going into the service, then why not be the best. Just thought i would share that. Semper Fi

Bob Trapp (LibertyBob):

I joined the Army because it was a little more profitable than the cult I had been running. No, I'm serious. My late teens were a bit on the, uh, abnormal side. If I hadn't had this damned virus in my heart I'd be retiring as an officer in intelligence here in a few years. Based on this I must say viruses suck. I had my dreams of earning respect the easy way and having all the uniform groupies chase after me. Instead, I got to be a loser who got kicked out for what was, at the time, an unidentified illness. (The technology to diagnose the problem didn't become available till later, or most doctors are morons.) I always recommend military service. Sure, it's a good way for the poor to better their lot in life, but it's also a good way for those who have money to become respectable.

Brian Dunbar writes:

Honestly?

So there I was, a middle class suburban white kid. Everyone, but everyone I knew was going to college, somewhere. I just couldn't see wasting the money (mom and dads) and the time (mine). Too well off for a financial scholarship, too indifferent to grades for an academic ride.

And anyway, by my Junior year I'd pretty much had my mind made up on the service, and the Marines called to me. Patriotism, sure. But mostly a change to DO something strange and exotic.

Tulsa, Oklahoma is a lot of things, but exotic it's not.

Did I mention that no one in what passed for a social set in High School joined up? The ones you'd expect did - the kids who majored in Shop or Vo-Tech, of course. The thugs. And me. I don't think any of the 'college track' kids even considered ROTC.

And damn it sure was different.

Our Military XV

Here are some more great military stories; I hope everyone else is enjoying these as much as I do. As for the response on why people joined the military, I'm going to organize and pose those later. If you'd like to add to that or have a story, e-mail me with the subject "Military". Thanks.

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Here are some non-sordid interrogation stories from jg:

Our team during the Gulf War (1991) had received a Tank Brigade Commander – we didn’t have a lot of details on him on the time, and he was proving difficult to break. We tried a harsh approach and he wasn’t impressed. Mutt and Jeff didn’t work. So there we were carrying on for about a half hour – none of us spoke Arabic and we had an interpreter, so imagine a bunch of gringo’s and an interpreter being theatrical (Doom! Doom!) with this COL, who was taking it pretty well. I guess we all ran out of breath and in the pause, the guy says, in perfect Oxford English, “Your aircraft destroyed all my tanks, just look outside your tent and you can see where they all are!” We felt like dolts and shoo’d him back into the holding area.

During an exercise, interrogators practice on each other, largely for language skills. On one exercise, I was playing the prisoner and we were speaking Czech. The guy who was interrogating me was actually a friend, so I was acting belligerent and jokingly told him in Czech that I wouldn’t talk to anybody but a big, blond, busty American wench. So he left. I was thinking OK, whatever. We actually had a big, blond, busty, American female in the unit, and in she walked. I almost fell off my chair when she came in, Equal Opportunity, Sexual Harassment, etc, etc, I’m going to be crucified flashed through my brain. She actually thought it was funny though, and agreed to it to see if I’d actually fall off the chair.

Here's an amazing story from Vietnam from Greg. When I say "Our Military", I also mean our allies who fight along side us:

Not only Americans served in Viet Nam. There were Australians, South Koreans and lots of Canadians. One Canadian was a guy on my team. Good guy, good soldier. He was a little crazy, though. One time out at an FOB, he walked into the commo room with a North Vietnamese grenade and proceeded to take it apart. Those grenades were notoriously unreliable and guys actually jumped out the windows ‘cause it could have gone off – fortunately for Dave, it didn’t. Another time, we were in the Club at Chi Lang and some guy walked in who had a .410 shotgun made into a pistol. Dave was mightily impressed and, after a long examination of the weapon, asked the guy if he could fire it.

The guy said, “sure,” expecting Dave to go outside - as we all did. Dave pointed the pistol to the ceiling and blew a hole through the roof. We were banned from the Club after that little trick. Unfortunately Dave’s mother was a liberal Canadian. She wrote him a letter – which I read – that included this thoughtful remark, “I hope you get killed before you have a chance to kill Vietnamese women and children.” Dave soldiered on. (He never killed any women or kids as the only enemy we ever engaged were NVA.) The odds finally caught up with Dave and he took a round in the head. It entered his left eye and came out the back of his skull. We did what we could and medevaced him to Can Tho. We called our CO, who was in Can Tho at the time, and told him to go to the airfield and identify the body. When the dai oui got there, not only was Dave still alive but he was conscious. It was a fucking miracle. Dave now lives in Florida – he was/is a hell of a Canadian.

I’m sure there are still some left out there but if you read the media - well, you know what I mean.

Here's yet another miracle from the Vietnam war from SSG. Adam D.:

I've got a good one for you about one certain incident that occurred during a patrol I was part of in 1967, near Nha Trang. My platoon had been dispatched to a remote stretch of jungle, and were humping along. For three hours, we saw and heard nothing but the trade mark pitch blackness that was Vietnam at night. We had gone about two clicks away from our infil point where the Huey had dropped us off when the point man gave us the hold sign, by throwing up his clutched fist. Apparently, he had heard "clicking bamboo," the signal the VC used to communicate. Our LT got on the radio, and had the artillery boys in the rear throw up three flares. Instantly, the pitch black was turned to noon in Texas. My detachment found ourselves nearly face to face with 15 or 20 of the dreaded Viet Cong. A firefight naturally ensued, and we shot every single bullet from every clip and chain we had on us, as did our fearsome enemy. About fifteen minutes later, silence soon overtook us. LT had a few more flares put in the air, and we checked our men. As we were doing this, so were the VC. Not a single soldier from either side had so much as a scratch on us. Both realized this at the same time, looked at each other with a "WTF?" expression on each of our faces, and stood there for about 30 seconds. Soon, both platoons raised their hands, and slowly backed away. After that night. I knew that I'd come home alive. I don't know, and never will, how we escaped that, but I will forever thank God for his protection on that night.

Finally, here's some great wisdom gotten from duty in Korea:

This is Jeff from Connecticut. I'd be more specific, but Connecticut is so freakin' tiny, everyone knows me here. Here's my military story:

I was stationed in Korea in an artillery battery: M109, 155mm Self Propelled. Very cool, very lethal, make big boom. In the States, most of the training is done on firing points on the base, so we usually travel on roads within the confines of the Army post. In Korea, however, the firing points are close to civilian areas, often next to small villages and towns throughout the countryside. As a result, we often traveled on public roads. We'd be driving these 20-ton tracked monsters, throwing off track pads, right on the same highway filled with cars full of nuns driving tiny little Kias and Hyundais. In order to minimize the impact we'd have on civilian traffic, our headquarters units would stage each battery on a staggered schedule so we weren't all on the roads at the same time as we traveled to and from the training areas.

One day, we were coming in from a long field training exercise. Our battery was scheduled to be one of the last units in the line of march, so we pulled over to the side of the road to wait for a couple of hours until it was our turn to take to the highway. I decided to walk to the other platoon to talk to a buddy and was accompanied by one of the KATUSA soldiers I had befriended. (KATUSAs are Korean Augmentees to the United States Army. These guys were members of the Korean Army who had some rudimentary English skills and were assigned to the line units to learn to use American equipment. They were often employed as interpreters when we encountered Korean nationals).

The 3 of us walked about a quarter mile away from the idling vehicles to get away from the diesel exhaust and climbed to the top of a small berm. After a few minutes, we noticed some Korean soldiers about 200 meters away waving at us. We waved back. They waved some more and began yelling at us. We waved and yelled 'Hello' to them. They kept waving and yelling. We finally turned to the KATUSA soldier to ask him what they were yelling, but he had run away across the parking area. About the time we noticed his absence, a giant explosion went off in front of us. We dove down beside the berm and covered up as dirt and rocks started to rain down on us. Apparently, we'd stumbled upon a Korean demolition range and they were setting off explosions. They were yelling 'Fire in the hole' in Korean, which to me sounded strangely similar to 'Hello American GI'. The moral of the story is: If you're in a foreign land and your translator runs away, run after him. Don't wait around to find out what he was running from.

Our Military XIV

Here are some more stories. I've already gotten some accounts of why people joined the military and will put them up soon, but I would like more. So, if you have a military story or want to explain your reasons for joining the military, e-mail me with the subject "Military". Thanks.

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Chad sent me this letter from Iraq which has an interesting connection with the current controversy:

A feller who used to babysit me when I was a peck has been over in Iraq for quite awhile now. He sent this letter to his dad, who forwarded it to me.

Hey Dad

So let me give you an update. We were attacked yesterday, a rocket went into the TV area, good thing it was at 6am so not to many people were in it, it just destroyed our TV, not to bad, then a Car bomb went off at the end of the block. at the QRF police station 4 dead 14 wounded all Iraqi Cops. three nights ago we lost 2 soldiers just wounded, by an IED in the road, they were placed on a medivac to Germany, they should be ok. I have been on 150 raids, on a raid about a week ago I broke my nose, it hurt, I had climbed the wall into the compund, to check the gate and I was in the yard alone, when we began to take fire from the house so the rest of the SRT team Broke the gate down just as I was moving from my position to another, the gate flew open with 9 guys behind it, my weapon was up so the weapon hit the gate and my rifle hit my face, needless to say my nose lost, it completly knocked me out, but I came to got up and continued, and we got the bad guy. I got a letter of commendation from a general the other day, this is what it said

Dear CPL [name withheld],

I want to extend my sincere appreciation for your proffessionalisim and your dedication to duty. Your success in this theater of war is a direct reflection of your diligence and commitment to excellence. Your accomplishments in single handedly running the entire prison facility are outstanding. You will leave an enduring mark of excellence on the Iraqi Police Officers you are training and the Iraqi Family memebers visiting your facility. You will also leave a very favorable impression of American Soldiers with the Iraqi citizens. You are a source of inspiration and pride. You give every American many reasons to be proud and thankful for everything you do.

Hooah!

Janis L. Karpinski

Brigadier General

Commanding

[Ed Note (from Chad): Karpinski is being called on about the prisoner abuse scandal. The subject of this letter is no longer in charge of this facility; he is home with his family)

AllenS has this little story of what would now be called soldier abuse:

I was drafted into the Army in 1966. I took my basic training at Ft. Leonardwood, MO. I was in awe at the drill instructors. Not so much at their so-called toughness, but by what those guys would say. One day while we were standing in single file outside of the mess hall, waiting for one of those wonderful meals, one of them yelled this: "Awwwwwllllright in that chow line, I want to see you assholes to bellybuttons, if the man in front of you ain't smiling, you ain't close enough." I just about split a gut.

Drew has this story about snipe hunts and things just sound like them:

As a young airman at my first base I was very aware of the snipe hunts devised for young troops, things like finding 50 gallons of prop wash or 100 feet of flightline. I'm suspicious by nature and was determined not to fall for one of these tricks. One day I was told to bring a tool kit to the marshalling area for deployment. The NCO inspecting items before loading took one look at my tool kit and told me I needed a non-flammable gas sticker on my fire extinguisher. To me this was a pretty obvious snipe hunt...but it wasn't. I really had to get that damn non-flammable sticker. Are you sure a simple compressed gas sticker wouldn't do? Oh no, we had to make sure that fire extinguisher was properly labeled non-flammable.

Ammo! IYAAYAS

Finally, Timmer has this humorous description of military ranks:

Military Rank Guide ===================

GENERAL OFFICER:
Leaps tall building in a single bound
Is more powerful than a locomotive
Is faster than a speeding bullet
Walks on water
Discusses policy with God

COLONEL:
Leaps short buildings in a single bound
Is more powerful than a switch engine
Is just as fast as a speeding bullet
Walks on water if the sea is calm
Talks with God

LT COLONEL
Leaps short buildings with a running start and favorable winds.
Is almost as powerful as a switch engine
Is faster than a speeding BB.
Walks on water in an indoor swimming pool
Talks with God if special request is approved

MAJOR
Barely clears a Quonset hut
Loses tug-of-war with a locomotive
Can fire a speeding bullet
Swims well
Is occasionally addressed by God

CAPTAIN:
Makes high marks on the wall when trying to leap buildings
Is run over by locomotive
Can sometimes handle a gun without inflicting self-injury
Dog paddles
Talks to animals

1ST LIEUTENANT:
Runs into buildings
Recognizes locomotive two out of three times
Is not issued ammunition
Can't stay afloat with a life preserver
Talks to walls

2D LIEUTENANT:
Falls over doorsteps when trying to enter building
Says "look at the choo-choo"
Wets him/herself with a water pistol
Plays in mud puddles
Mumbles to him/herself

SENIOR NCO:
Lifts buildings and walks under them
Kicks locomotives off the tracks
Catches speeding bullets in his/her teeth
Freezes water with a single glance
Is God

Our Military XIII

I want to keep this feature going, but I'm nearly out of stories. So, if you have a military story, e-mail me with the subject "Military". Thanks.

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Here's a Marine's praise for patriotic civilians in Iraq. A great story:

I was sent to do some work in Baghdad and billeted at the CPA headquarters in the Green Zone. The CPA headquarters was an eclectic collection of people from all over the world -from Ambassador Bremer to the Gurhka guarding the door it was a strange brew indeed. One day I sat down for chow with three civilians. I'm guessing they were 65, 45, and 30 year old men (not guessing about the men part). They were from different parts of the county, but all worked for the Army Corps of Engineers as hydro power gurus. We struck up a conversation and I asked them what brought them to Iraq. A standard question in the Green Zone and the 30 yr old's was typical.

He said - "They came around the office and announced that the Corps of Engineers needed to send some people to Iraq. They asked if anyone wanted to volunteer. I thought it would be interesting, kind of an adventure - so I signed up." That was pretty much what most of the civilians in Iraq would say - a few would also add, " and the money is good."

The 65 yr old said - "I am the boss back where I work. I have been employed by the U.S. government for over 30 years and have never really had to do 'anything above and beyond' my day to day duties. I thought this would be my opportunity to pay the country back." I hadn't heard that one before and was a little bit taken aback. The 45 yr old's response only solidified the fact that there are Patriots in America, and there not all wearing a uniform.

He said - "Same here, they came around the office looking for volunteers and told us we had a couple of days to think it over. I wasn't really sold on the idea, and went home and talked to my wife about it. I imagined that she would be adamantly opposed and I wasn't going to push the issue. I mentally ran through the list of reasons she would come up with and sure enough she hit me with - 'you'll be gone for 6 months, isn't this really dangerous, it will be hard to run the household without you, what are the kids going to think.' We talked briefly about it, she thought for a few minutes and then said 'all those things are true, but we owe this to the country' so here I am."

I just nodded, didn't really know what to say - after twenty years in the Marine Corps I usually thought of civilians as lesser mortals that needed my protection (with only about 20% worthy of it ). Even after 9/11 I thought - sure, there are a lot of flags out these days, and people are inclined to be a little more patriotic, but talk is cheap and a flag and pole cost about 40 bucks. Now when I see some old lady waiving a flag, or hear some trucker talking about what he would do to UBL if he could get his hands on him, I think back to that conversation and conclude that the enemies of America have no idea what they are up against. If need be - the 65 year old men and engineer's wives of American can take UBL and his ilk any day.

Semper Fi,
John

DNice has some stories of some fun in Germany:

When I was stationed in Germany (1986 - 1988) I was in a Lance Missile Battalion. I had heard that we were the "most forwardly deployed nuclear capable unit" in Europe. We were 60 kilometers from the Czech border. (I have no independent corroboration of that... whatever.)

Anyways, because we had nukes, we were stationed out in the middle of nowhere (which is pretty hard to do in Germany, but they did it). There were corn fields as far as the eye could see. And worst of all, we were in probably the only town in Germany that didn't have a train station!

When we went out to the field for exercises, we didn't go to Graf, where everyone else went (a big training area). OHHHHH nooooo! We went out into the German countryside and set up the woods between small towns.
We would regularly have German citizens walking their dogs through our areas.

My first time in the field I was guarding the entrance to the woods where our Battery was set up. We pulled a fallen tree across the dirt road, and I was sitting prone in the bushes with my M16. A car pulls up and stops at the log, I jump out of the bushes in my BDUs, kevlar, and M16 and the guy almost has a heart attack. He rolls down the window and asks in broken English if the woods are full of soldiers. I said yes, then he picks up a shotgun... I freak out and jump back about 10 ten feet (I don't have any real ammo...). Suddenly I realize he's trying to tell me he wanted to go hunting and would he be allowed?

Another time, in the middle of winter, we got a visit from some neighborhood kids while we were set up outside this small town. We bribed them with camo sticks (the camouflage makeup sticks) and MRE's to get us some beer. They come back with a whole rack of beer from a nearby Gasthaus. Awesome!

Then we got the order to move out the next day, so we paid the kids with chem-lite glow sticks and some more MRE's and they broken down all of our equipment and packed up our tents for us. We sat on the truck and drank the beer. God bless those kids!

Paul from Memphis, TN, has another story about dealing with the Germans... though from a quite different era:

This one is about 3rd hand, but it's still pretty good. My dad worked as a law clerk for a federal judge down in Mobile, AL who had served as a P-38 pilot in WWII in Europe. The P-38 was an amazingly versatile and dangerous aircraft (to the Krauts, that is). One of the missions that got flown a lot was tank busting -- German tanks were highly superior to American ones, but the USAAF ruled the skies. The worst nemesis of Allied armor was the King Tiger, the Panzerkampgwagon VI.4.c B -- the frontal armor was 150mm thick, which, for reference, isn't too shabby for today's MBT. It was essentially invulnerable to frontal assault; a King Tiger with a clear field of fire could whipe out entire batallions of Shermans or T-34's alone -- the high power 88mm gun was a killer. But the King Tiger presented a quandry for the air force as well: the armor was so thick, even on top, that 500! pound bombs had a tendency to bounce off. So, what the pilots resorted to doing when out on bombing runs against King Tigers, was to drop bombs on either side of the tank, and the concussion from the blast would actually FLIP the vehicle over. Sounds weird, but it's true.

Our Military XII

I want to keep this feature going, but I'm nearly out of stories. So, if you have a military story, e-mail me with the subject "Military". Thanks.

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John sent in some more military terminology:

Here are some Navy/Submarine terms

sluff- short little ugly fat fucker
non-qual- person who has not qualified in submarines. Lower than whale shit
buff- big ugly fat fucker
bug juice- Navy Kool Aid. Also a good degreaser.
midrats- late night meal
push button petty officer- A person that was given a petty officer pay grade because of their school and didn't have to test for it
chop- supply officer
cob- Head enlisted man on the submarine (Chief of the Boat)
boat- submarine. We don't call submarines ships successful deployement-number of surfaces equaled the nuimber of dives.

DaDougster sent this in. I know I've seen the first part before, but the rest is new to me...

USMC Rules for Gunfighting

1. Be courteous to everyone, friendly to no one.
2. Decide to be aggressive ENOUGH, quickly ENOUGH.
3. Have a plan.
4. Have a back-up plan, because the first one probably won't work.
5. Be polite. Be professional. But, have a plan to kill everyone you meet.
6. Do not attend a gunfight with a handgun whose caliber does not start with a "4."
7. Anything worth shooting is worth shooting twice. Ammo is cheap. Life is expensive.
8. Move away from your attacker. Distance is your friend. (Lateral and diagonal movement are preferred.)
9. Use cover or concealment as much as possible.
10. Flank your adversary when possible. Protect yours.
11. Always cheat; always win. The only unfair fight is the one you lose.
12. In ten years nobody will remember the details of caliber, stance, or tactics. They will only remember who lived.
13. If you are not shooting, you should be communicating or reloading.
14. Someday someone may kill you with your own gun, but they should have to beat you to death with it because it is empty.
15. And above all ... don't drop your guard.

And just to be obnoxious:

Navy SEALS Rules For Gun fighting

1. Look very cool in the latest sunglasses.
2. Kill every living thing within view.
3. Return quickly to looking very cool in latest beach wear.
4. Check hair in mirror.

US Army Rangers Rules For Gun fighting

1. Walk in 50 miles wearing 75 pound ruck while starving.
2. Locate individuals requiring killing.
3. Request permission via radio from "Higher" to perform killing.
4. Curse bitterly when mission is aborted.
5. Walk out 50 miles wearing a 75 pound ruck while starving.

Army Rules For Gun fighting

1. Select a new beret to wear
2. Sew combat patch on right shoulder
3. Reconsider the color of beret you decide to wear

US Air Force Rules For Gun fighting

1. Have a cocktail
2. Adjust temperature on air-conditioner
3. See what's on HBO
4. Determine "what is a gunfight"
5. Send the Marines

Navy Rules For Gunfighting

1. Go to Sea
2. Drink Coffee
3. Send the Marines

That has to be the fifth reference I've seen to the Navy doing nothing but drinking coffee. I really like coffee; maybe I should join the Navy.

On a more serious note...

I am Proud

I've always had serious pride in the United States' Military. Great men with bad guns willing to do bad things for my freedom. Now, I have even more pride. I've never claimed that my brother and I see eye to eye on anything except the military, but he's still a great man. I found out today that he's off to Iraq and he's no longer in the Special Forces. He left American soil as a member of the Delta force. He will be fighting soon for your freedom and for my freedom. Sgt. Marc and everyone in the military (but mostly him right now) deserve many thanks. So, something I never thought I'd say.....Thank you Marc....Please, be safe. Marc is very religious and as everyone knows, I am not. In this case, though, I'll say that if there is a god.....Watch his back. Marc has the mind of a genius and the heart of a child...Let no one take this from him. I know he's a very competent man and that anyone near him is safe. May that competence bring him home alive. Please, don't get killed. I'll have to join the military and avenge your death. This would end badly and with many nuclear weapons, so, for the sake of humanity....COME HOME SAFE.

To anyone that reads this I say, "Sleep well this night." There are man and women fighting like hell for you and I to sleep well. To all those men and women in the military I say, "When you get the chance to sleep, please know there are people that appreciate you more than words can describe." To Marc, "You are loved and sweet dreams, if that's possible where you're at."

Love, your sis,
The Sicilian

Our Military XI

I want to keep this feature going, so, if you have a military story, e-mail me with the subject "Military". Thanks.

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jamestox (AT3, U.S. Navy) sent this joke in (though it probably has a lot of truth about military life):

From: Attack Squadron XXXXXX-XXXXX

To: Family members and close friends of service members

Subject: Return of service member from at-sea deployment

This letter has been written to give you advance warning of the forthcoming return of your service member, on or about XX December, 19XX, from deployment in the Mediterranean Sea with Carrier Group XXXX, embarked on USS XXXXXXXXXXXXX (CV-XX), a unit of Battle Forces SIXTH FLEET.

Due to the nature of duty your service member has been subjected to, you may find it necessary to "retrain" him for non-deployment life. With your full
cooperation in following the proven recommendations in this letter, your service member's transition back to full, non-deployment "normal" life should be obtainable within a maximum of 2 to 3 years - assuming there are no additional deployments in the meantime.

The following recommendations may seem a bit harsh at first, but your service member will benefit greatly from them and will love you more for your loving care and understanding.

TO HELP YOUR SERVICE MEMBER TO READJUST TO HIS NEW ENVIRONMENT, PRACTICE THE FOLLOWING:

1. Secure (close and lock) the bathroom for a minimum of 23 hours and 45 minutes daily.

2. Put toilet tissue out only once a month (supply other family members with their own rolls during the readjustment period).

3. Limit the service member's water usage to a maximum of 30 gallons per day (to include laundry, dirty dishes, car washing, and lawn/garden watering for the entire household, as well as the service member's personal needs).

HELPFUL HINTS:

Under no circumstances should you let your service member take a hot shower; this could cause permanent psychological damage. This can be done by securing the valve from the water heater when the service member enters the bathroom.

As for the service member's laundry, always return fewer clothes than he puts in or instant insanity could result (due to having too many clean clothes to choose from). When washing his clothing, add at least one full cup of itching powder; this will make his clothes feel "normal" and keep him too busy to yell orders to you or anyone else in the vicinity. Over time, reduce the amount of itching powder, since this condition is only temporary and will dissapear with love and time (in that order).

You may find it necessary to move your household to a location beneath a bowling alley for the service member to fall asleep at night. He is accustomed to hearing loud noises above him while he is sleeping (e.g. catapult shots, aircraft engaging arresting gear during landings, F-4 Phantoms crashing on the flight deck, etc.). If it is impossible to find a bowling alley with a basement, a large steel mill will suffice - although it must have a stamping press that runs at night.

MEAL PREPARATION

All meats must be prepared in such a way as to be burnt on the outside and still frozen in the center. Mashed potatoes should be prepared in a manner that will cause them to "run" all over the plate and mix with his dessert. Fresh milk should be available only for the first week of the month, with "long-shelf-life-container" liquid milk provided for the next three days, and nonfat-dry milk the remainder of the month. Canned, mixed vegetables, ketchup, and pepper hot sauce are to be provided for two of the three daily meals to allow the service member to make vegetable soup if he so desires. Pancakes can be made in one of two ways: thin and rubbery or thick and hard (the service member will recognize these two varieties as "tire-patch" and "armor-plate"). Powdered and brewed beverages (instant lemonade, Kool-Ade, iced tea) should be mixed with a minimum of sugar and diluted to about half its intended strength. Coffee should be brewed a recommended three days.

"DRILLS"

The following may occur from time to time during your service member's stay at home and are nothing to be alarmed about. Do not be concerned with unusual reactions to normal, everyday sounds such as those created by handheld electronic games, railroad trains, doorbells or telephones - to which he may exit the front door, pulling on his clothes at a dead run to "man his battlestation." Conversely, he may secure himself in some manner to something solid such as an indoor column, bannister, or commode in preparation of a collision with another seagoing vessel. This behavior becomes instinctive through the practice of shipboard "drills" and is considered quite normal so soon after an at-sea deployment. Your service member can be restored to a non-drill condition by sounding one short blast on a whistle and saying, "Now, secure from ..." and state the drill in which he was taking part. Simple observation and common sense will cue you on the type of drill. Some quite common shipboard drills are: General Quarters ("battlestations"), Collision, Man-Overboard, and Mail Call. Note: until your service member fully realizes he's no longer on deployment, we recommend you "drill" him ocassionally to prevent a sense of paranoia and psychological unease. One highly recommended drill is General Quarters; this drill should be held during his normal sleeping hours and last a MINIMUM of 2 hours. Be sure to pass the word: "No eating, drinking or smoking", as this is a normal condition during G.Q. - and one in which some service members are lax.

TV

Do not be alarmed if your service member sets the television picture out of focus, turns up the volume to the point of loud distortion, then starts complaining that, "...the TV is mess ed up again because the idiot running the studio used the WRONG lens on the projector to show the movie." He may also kick the coffee table over and put his heels on it after sitting on the sofa and loudly mumble to himself for long periods. This condition is normal and temporary, lasting through the first few months of non-deployment life.

Misc.

There may be other unusual things you will notice your service member doing; such behavior normally disappears over time in his new environment. Some examples may include measuring and stirring sugar into his coffee with either a knife or fork, using an unusually heavy (and nearly inedible) amount of seasoning on his meals, going through a safety-gear checklist prior to mowing the lawn, performing a "FOD walkdown" on the driveway every morning, or loudly shouting "door coming closed - stand CLEAR!!!" when shutting the garage door. I must once again stress that these things are perfectly normal and almost always harmless.

If there is anything our squadron can do in helping you with your service member's reacclimation to non-deployment life, feel free to call us or your nearest Armed Forces activity. The US military has a fine medical department with 24-hour emergency psychiatrists on duty, should you or your service member require immediate attention. I hope this letter has been of assistance to you. I must assure you, there are only a few things your service member need be taught again.

Very sincerely,
XXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX
Post-deployment Assistance Officer, ATKRON-XX

Jason writes about a usual day for the National Guard:

I spent a couple of years in the New York Army National Guard. The National Guard gets a lot of stick, this story I about to relay is a good example of why. Our 2 week annual training every summer was usually pretty uneventful. I and 3 of my buddies had managed to secure three of the most coveted positions in the company. I was the CO driver, another was a Platoon Leader driver and yet another was the XO driver. This probably was done on purpose to try and keep up separated. The unforeseen problem was that this gave all three of unfettered access to vehicles 24 hours a day. The base we were on was no base at all. It was a ‘camp’. In theory it was the equivalent to Camp David, but for the governor of New York and not the President. Camp Smith, as it is called, is pretty open. It is not unusual for military vehicles to leave there at any time of day. One afternoon ‘Dan’ had purposely gotten the XO vehicle dirty. He was unable to clean before chow that night telling the XO he would do it after chow. The thing was the bay for washing vehicles close before evening show. The XO, of course had no idea. At about 2100 that night, Dan, Steve, and I slipped into the night the Sgt. ‘nobody’. We took a Sergeant because the rest of us were SPC. and we needed someone to take the blame if we got caught. Everyone except for Dan was in civilian clothes. Dan had his in a bag. He has to at least drive of camp in BDU’s. We drove about 30 miles to Wallkill NY. We figured that was sufficient enough not to raise any alarms. First things first we had to get the M1009 washed. The M1009 is a Chevy Blazer outfitted for the military. In Wallkill NY seeing a blazer painted camouflage does not tend to get noticed. Anyways what easier ways to wash it then to take it through an automatic car wash, right? No. We had forgotten about the $600 radio antenna that was tied down on the side of the M1009. It snapped in two pieces in the car wash. It was at this time the sergeant with us realizes why we had brought him along and proceeded to freak out. He was then offered the option to walk or continue the mission. We just ended up going to some sports bar. That was pretty uneventful. We headed back to Camp Smith. There was still the issue of the antenna that needed to be taken care of. Dan said he would take care of it. We were all in our bunks by 0300. We only had to be up in two hours. When we did get up, Dan was immediacy greeted by the XO. “SPC. Podinski I was looking for you last night, you were not in your bunk.” Sir, I may have been in the Latrine” “I checked the latrine, you were not there” Sir, I said ‘I may have been in the latrine’, I did not say I was there.” “You were not in your bunk, where were you?” “Sir, I can neither confirm nor deny that I was not in my bunk at that time you specified because my watch is broken.” At that point the XO gave up and walked away, seeing how he knew what had happened, and knew that we could not prove it. Our story does not end their kids. You all remember that antenna that got broken, right? It turns out that Dan had taken the antenna of the M1009 that Steve was driving. So Steve ended up having some explaining to do, but it was all good since the whole excursion was his idea anyways. I am since out. Steve and Dan both went on to OCS and now have their enlisted men pulling the same kind of stuff on them.

The names have been changed to protect the guilty.

Chad got this from his roommate and it shows a different side of Iraq:

I got this email from my cousin who is in iraq right now. i thought you guys might find it interesting. it makes me either want to not pay taxes or join the army....im not sure:

Things have been quite a bit calmer as of late. I'm just living one day at
a time out here. I noticed that when I start to think about coming home I get depressed and the days go by slower, so I just try to keep the though of what day it is out of my head. I know I don't have a whole lot of time
left.

Iraq isn't my favorite country to say the least. One Iraqi man asked
me if I enjoyed being here in Iraq, I just glared at him, I couldn't believe he
even asked me that. A vast majority of the Army out here does nothing...literally. They are just bodies used as man-power. I've noticed their lifestyle, and talked to a couple of 82nd Airborne guys and they
told me all about how most of the soldiers wake up whenever they want, go to
eat chow, watch a couple of movies, do whatever, then their "work day" is complete. I think I know how a lot of these guys handle being out here for
a year or so...they don't do ANY work. What a joke, what a horrible waste of tax-payers money. 1 Thing I will never forget about the military is the disgusting waste of our tax dollars. No one seems to care about it either, it's amazing. Abuse of government vehicles, ragging on them to amuse a few people, and various other things. It makes me sick that my taxes are being spent to fund stupidity. Anyhow, enough of my ramblings, I'm a bit tired right now. Thanks for the news! Love, Matt.

Finally, Blackfive has up a story of escorting a hero home. A must read.

Our Military X - Vietnam and the Counter Culture

I'm just going to have one story today, as it's longer than usual and more serious than most. This was sent in by a reader and is an interview she did in 2001 of her father about his involvement in Vietnam and the Counter Culture (such as joining Vietnam Veteran's Against the War). It's well worth a read.

I still have a number of more stories left to print for future editions, but I still want more to keep this feature going. So, if you have one, e-mail me with the subject "Military". Thanks.

* * * *

David was born in 1950, a middle child of 28 children in a Mormon family, sharing blood with approximately 14 of them. He experienced his childhood in general poverty, moving between living with relatives, orphanages, and Indian reservations. He dropped out of high school in 1969 to enlist in the Army, and served until 1971. In 1974 he married Deborah, and started on his first of three children. In 1976 he joined the Army Reserves. Now he is a computer programming consultant for several companies, and an avid sailboat Captain and sailing instructor.

This interview is being conducted by Megan [his daughter], and it covers the late 1960's through the early 1970's, specifically David's involvement in the Vietnam War and the Counter Culture, as well as the Civil Rights Movement. The Vietnam war was not one that we declared, but one that snowballed out of control. In 1954 the Vietnamese defeated the French, and the Geneva peace conference "temporarily" divided Vietnam into a communist north and a non-communist south, with an election scheduled to elect a single Vietnamese government. The United States then organized SEATO, the Southeast Asia Treaty Organization to contain Asia. In 1964 Congress passed the Gulf of Tonkin Resolution, authorizing the President to wage undeclared war. By 1966 America had 275,000 combat troops in Vietnam, one year later that number totaled 485,000, and in 1969 the number reached it's maximum of 543,000. At the same time a new lottery system was created to reduce the number of draftees by two thirds, and Congress repealed the Gulf of Tonkin Resolution the next year. A cease fire began on January 27, 1973 confirming the American withdrawal from Vietnam. The Counter Culture consisted of several different types of ideas, but most of the people involved were known as hippies. Those who were seriously involved in the counter culture shunned the middle class American way of life, while many were kids expressing their personal alienation by sampling drugs and listening to psychedelic music. The Civil Rights movement also occurred in this era, allowing for minorities such as Blacks and Women to finally voice their oppression to an audience.

DAVID. I dropped out of the 11th grade in high school to enlist for three years in the Army. I was stationed in Vietnam for 3 combat tours. A combat tour is 6 months long. While in Vietnam, I joined an organization named 'Vietnam Veterans Against the War'. You may directly infer from this that the counter culture was even having an impact over there. I used to joke with people after returning to "The World" that perhaps we could have won the war if I hadn't been a doper over there. In retrospect, it may not have been such a joke. A lot of us were users of something or other. It was all cheap and super easy to get. It is real likely that it was so readily available because our adversaries were the principal suppliers. My rank was Sergeant E-5. Job description - Radio Teletype Operator Team Chief - Skill Development Base. This last thing meant that my non-commissioned officer rank was awarded me by attending school as apposed to earning it in the field. While stationed overseas, I never worked at the job I was trained for. Instead, the positions I held were as follows: Telephone lineman - String wire on telephone poles, Water truck driver, NCO in charge of company communications, Door Gunner on Huey helicopters (not gun ships), Manager of unapproved company level NCO lounge, Stock control clerk - Inventory guy.
Received honorable discharge in 1971 but there was a code on my discharge papers that marked me as a doper. After marrying your mom, I re-enlisted in the Army reserve as a computer programming specialist. Received a truly honorable discharge with no little codes marking me as a bad guy. However, the job description I held required a security clearance which I never could get. When a government tells you to turn yourself in and they won't hold it against you; they are lying.

MEGAN. What caused you to drop out of high school and join?

DAVID. Hormones, a constant war with your grandmother, three older brothers had been in Army, school sucks, no role models, hated getting up in morning.

MEGAN. What changed between when you dropped out and when you joined Vietnam Veterans Against the War that made you change your mind?

DAVID. Peer pressure. Being in country. Immature before I enlisted; a different kind of immature when I joined VVAW.

MEGAN. Were you a minority or a majority for choosing to go instead of being drafted?

DAVID. The majority of enlisted people were drafted.

MEGAN. From the list of positions you gave me, why did you go from what I assume to be an honor of being a non commissioned officer to a manager of a lounge to stocking shelves?

DAVID. In all cases, I kept the NCO rank. The positions were various jobs I was assigned to. The short answer is that I wasn't reliable, trustworthy, or capable. The actual jobs I did can't really be ranked in an apples to apples comparison. The NCO lounge manager was the best job I did; right up to where I quit. The most fun was the door gunner job. I had left out NCOIC (NCO in charge) of communications.

MEGAN. Did the training you received in school start you in the field of computers that you are currently in?

DAVID. No. Had an interest in them; probably because I don't like arithmetic. Went to a computer technical school after I left the service the first time. I had used up all my unemployment from being in the service; all the money I'd saved in the service, and the GI bill was the only source of money available at the time short of getting a job.

MEGAN. What specifically was your involvement in the Vietnam Veterans Against the War?

DAVID. Just sent money for membership and joined. No active participation.

MEGAN. Did it effect the way others on your tours treated you?

DAVID. No. Didn't really advertise joining.

MEGAN. How did getting dope from the enemies work? How did you know when to buy from them vs. when to fight them?

DAVID. The enemy and the friendly all looked alike. Drugs were purchased on the black market. It was pretty much the same kind of supply chain that exists in the U.S. for buying drugs today.

MEGAN. What was the general opinions of the other soldiers of the Vietnam war?

DAVID. I can't answer this. I think the majority were level headed conscientious people doing what was required of them. Just a way higher percentage than normal either did dope or booze.

MEGAN. What was your opinion on the war?

DAVID. Came away believing that the only way of winning a war was total annihilation of your enemy. That is every mother, father, son, or daughter that is your enemy or can grow up to be your enemy must die. This proposes a dilemma. How can you wage war and be humane?

MEGAN. Is this what decided you against the war?

DAVID. No. Total lack of support of the U.S. at virtually every level; including our government.

MEGAN. Did the Vietnam war make you more politically aware?

DAVID. Not really. I'm still not very astute.

MEGAN. What were your main objectives over there?

DAVID. I personally had no objectives. It is a side affect of being a doper.

MEGAN. What was a typical day like, what did each job entail?

DAVID. Hot. Wet. Finding drugs. Buying drugs. Using drugs.

MEGAN. Was there any protesting taking place?

DAVID. Not that I was aware of.

MEGAN. Did you ever refuse to perform an assignment?

DAVID. No. You can be totally incompetent in the military so long as you are never insubordinate.

MEGAN. Did anyone over there foreign or domestic agree with the U.S.
presence?

DAVID. Someone must have.

MEGAN. Were Vietnamese women as readily available as the movies portrayed them to be?

DAVID. Probably more so.

MEGAN. How and Did the war change you?

DAVID. To the extent that it got me off the Indian reservation and out into the world, it changed me a lot.

MEGAN. Did you ever have to take life?

DAVID. Don't know. Shot up a lot of trees and rocks when I was a door gunner though.

MEGAN. Did it get easier to take life over time?

DAVID. Seems to me that however much you respect your own life and place value on it determines how easy it would be to takes someone else's. Two things muddy this up a little. They are an innate fear of the unknown after death or if you can hate someone else enough to take the one truly precious thing they have. This latter was said well by Clint Eastwood in the movie Unforgiven. He tells the kid that killing is taking from a man all was, is, or will ever be. I am paraphrasing here. Watch the movie; the actual quote is better.

MEGAN. Were you ever concerned that civilian life was being taken?

DAVID. No. Civilian life is really a funny sort of concept. If your politicians and your taxes support your military; if you support the actions of your military; just how civilized are you?

MEGAN. Was the war what you were bargaining for when you signed up?

DAVID. Since I wasn't bright enough to foresee any future for myself, there was nothing that I was bargaining for.

MEGAN. How would you compare the military then as to now?

DAVID. I really can't. I have no expertise on today's military. It seems to be far more high tech and there appears to be a desire to wage war without casualties. We don't seem to want to fight.

MEGAN. Do you see any similarities between then and what is happening now?

DAVID. Yes. We weren't committed to winning at any cost then or now. Nor were we in Korea or the Gulf war. We essentially have lost every war we have fought in since WW2. We claim victories in every engagement except Vietnam but in truth, the same enemies with the same agendas are still there and fighting against us even after we call ourselves winners and go home.

MEGAN. What do you think of our governments handling of foreign relations?

DAVID. I am far more impressed with the foreign relations of Ghengis Khan, or the Roman empire with their 500 years of peace, or the British government when they dominated the oceans of the entire world for as many years. When a Roman Centurion was killed, ten of the Roman enemy was killed to avenge his death. That was foreign policy. If we implemented that policy after 09/11/2001, that would require us to kill 60,000 of those aligned against us. So... Is that justice? Bin Lauden believes so. How best can we demonstrate to him the consequences of his beliefs?

MEGAN. How did your service to our country effect your life?

DAVID. Got me away from home. Got me the GI bill for education. Afforded me the opportunity to go down a path that didn't exist where and when I grew up. Was able to pass GED test for high school. Don't believe I ever would have completed conventionally. Picture yourself in my place with no one pressuring you to finish.

MEGAN. Did it make your more responsible, compassionate, bitter, etc...?

DAVID. Marriage is what really did all those things for me. Until then I was pretty much a tumbleweed with IQ to match.

MEGAN. Would you recommend the service for today's youth? Why or why not?

DAVID. Yes. Everyone needs to work. I'm all in favor of anyone that wants adventure and can't afford to pay for it, joining. It would be good for some, bad for some, but at least they'd know.

MEGAN. Where do you think you would be in your life had you not joined?

DAVID. This is a fallacy of logic called arguing from a hypothesis. It is equally feasible that I could have become a felon, or a teacher, or a mercenary, or a street person.

MEGAN. What was your opinion of how Americans received the returning veterans?

DAVID. I never took it personally though I know that many did.

MEGAN. How were you received personally by those that knew you?

DAVID. Like a returning soldier that they were proud of and glad was back.
Particularly since some thought I was a far better candidate for jail when I went in.

MEGAN. Did you lose many friends to the war?

DAVID. Every friend I made that I lost track of was lost. None died that I'm aware of.

MEGAN. What about the vietnam war makes it hard for you to talk about?

DAVID. Nothing any more.

MEGAN. What do you think makes it hard for others to talk about their experiences?

DAVID. Either shocked at what they did; didn't do, saw, didn't see, behaved, didn't behave. A saturday evening sitting in front of the TV getting fat may well kill you, but it surely doesn't test your fiber or beliefs.

MEGAN. Did doing the drugs make it easier or harder to cope in retrospect?

DAVID. People who do drugs aren't really coping; they are turning their brain off.

MEGAN. Was that your opinion then?

DAVID. Yes.

MEGAN. Were you involved with the counter culture before leaving for the war?

DAVID. No.

MEGAN. When you came home?

DAVID. I moved in those circles but was pretty much outside them too.
Harken back to image of brainless tumbleweed.

MEGAN. Did the civil rights movement of the 60s affect you? How?

DAVID. Yes. Not directly. Didn't consider it my problem. Was perfectly willing to believe black people did have a problem.

MEGAN. Did your beliefs mirror those of the counter culture?

DAVID. Probably not. My favorite author was Ayn Rand.

MEGAN. Were you involved in the war when the Viet Congs Tet offensive
occurred?

DAVID. Tet offensive was 1968. I joined 1969. First tour in Nam was early 1970. This was an event that even me in my turned off ignore everything daze was aware of.

MEGAN. Was it a factor in your joining the VVAW?

DAVID. No.

MEGAN. Do you remember Martin Luther Kingąs assassination? And how did if effect you and those around you?

DAVID. Yes. Not at all. I didn't identify with people who were passionate enough to assassinate someone nor with the victims either.

MEGAN. Was there racial tension over there?

DAVID. Perhaps. My black friends could call me a honky because I didn't care but I couldn't call them niggers because they did care.

MEGAN. What was your opinion of Nixon and his foreign policies?

DAVID. Voted for him every time he ran from when I was in the 6th grade.
Would have voted for him again.

MEGAN. Did you get to watch Armstrong walk on the moon when your were over there?

DAVID. Saw the TV pictures. Your grandmother never did believe it was real.

MEGAN. What was your most dangerous assignment/ job?

DAVID. Door gunner.

MEGAN. What made the door gunner job the most fun, if fun can be used to describe anything that went on?

DAVID. Why did you like jumping out of a plane or being at the helm with a rail buried in the water?

MEGAN. Did you use the same guns as Rambo?

DAVID. Don't know what Rambo used. Used an M60 machine gun mounted on a pivot with butterfly triggers and every 5th round of 7.62mm ammo a tracer.

MEGAN. Same gun. Were you ever in any harry situations? What happened?

DAVID. Not really. They mortered the flight line a mile away while an idiot Sgt. 1st class had us all standing in close formation to give us hell for not going to the bunkers. Airlifted a Thai soldier out of an LZ once that was shot in the back pretty bad. I fired a lot of suppression fire with no one firing back. Almost crashed a helicopter once because I didn't tell the pilot he was letting the tail come around to engage a tree. It was my job to do that but even now I have a tendency to just let a bad thing happen and see how it comes out.

MEGAN. Do you owe your life to anyone, or does anyone owe you their life?
What happened?

DAVID. Sure. My family, those that brought me and those that I leave.
Especially you. You are my future and my pride.

MEGAN. Do you feel anger against our government for lying to you about disclosing your drug use?

DAVID. Not at all. They really had no choice either.

MEGAN. What were you at war with Grandma about?

DAVID. She was a bright headstrong willful person who had been kicked in the teeth her entire life. I inherited many of her tendencies.

MEGAN. Do you ever wish you had stayed home and finished high school?

DAVID. Not really.

MEGAN. What kind of immature were you when you joined the VVAW? Are you mature now?

DAVID. Well, obviously, the same kind as you. I couldn't formulate a tactful question, even if it was a multiple choice question with one answer given. Is it true that is how they get you artist types to pass tests in college? Now I am very mature because you can no longer get me to rise to the bait of this kind of question.

Our Military IX - My Old Man Edition

Yay! I got some stories from my old man (plus some others). I still have more stories waiting to be published, but, as always, I want more. So, if you have one, e-mail me with the subject "Military". Everyone else, enjoy.

* * * *

My old man, who has a first name that means "Frenchman" and - by the way - served in Vietnam, wrote these two stories, one from when he was in Germany before heading to Vietnam and the other from boot camp (FYI, my dad dodged the draft the old fashioned way - signing up):

I was in the Army stationed in Germany in January of 1969. Having to pull KP duty at least once a month, I always tried to get the position of washing pots & pans because everyone left you alone and it was fairly easy.......no one watched over you much. But one day a particular mess sergeant kept making me re-wash the pots etc because he felt them not up to "his standards"...after about three attempts to pass his inspection I took the ones I couldn't get clean and buried them in the snow out behind the mess hall. I figured someone other then me could worry about them in the Spring!

I went through "boot camp" at Fort Dix, NJ in the winter of 1967-68. I was from Southern California and was here because they wanted me to go to Officer Candidate School as I had graduated from college. Most of the training company I was in was made up of others like me or draftees from the streets of New York City and Philadelphia. The first day that we were given bayonets to drill with, over fifty were "lost or missing" when we turned them in at the end of the day. After searching for hours, threatening everyone with the "brig", and keeping us up until midnight, they finally gave up with about 10 still missing. Everyone was pretty nice to each other from then on, not knowing who had one of the missing weapons!

John helps translate some military lingo for us:

Frank, here's a list of military terms for the Military-English dictionary. I certainly invite other readers to add, edit or correct. Keep in mind that my experience was with the 82nd Airborne, and the Army National Guard. Some terms may have different meanings to other units or branches. Also, this isn't really "family friendly."

Without further fuss, and in no particular order (including alpha) I present the following:

REMF - Rear Echelon Mother Fucker; a clerk, cook or mechanic. Term of derision for non-combat personnel.
Think of PVT Wompum(sp?) in Saving Private Ryan

Top - First Sergeant, senior NCO at Company level.

FUBAR - Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition; hopeless situation or condition. [Ed Note: In programming, common function names for example code are "foo" and "bar".]

Cherry - a new trooper or soldier.

Humvee - OK, dammit - it's NEVER been called a HUMMER by troops (at least when I was in) a HUMMER is something a girl gives you! A HMMWV is a Highly Mobile Multi-Wheeled Vehicle. Far superior to the 50 grand lump of shit civilians are issued.

Cut-V - also Cuck-V; basically a stripped down Ford Blazer with camo paint. Formally known as a CUCV, Commercial Cargo Utility Vehicle.

TA-50 - Equipment issued a soldier upon assignment to a unit. Items such as protective gear, special equipment and such. Different from basic issue which is blouse, pants and boots.

Cunt Cap - Funky looking hat worn by most soldiers before the "Black Beret" was sullied and issued to legs. Class A uniform hat.

Leg - on-airborne qualified personnel. Term of derision.

Red Leg - artillery personnel. Term of endearment.

SPORTS - acronym for performing immediate action to correct firing problems with M16A1/A2 rifles. Slap, Pull, Observe, Release, Tap, Squeeze. Kind of sexy if you think about it.

Bug Juice - basically pure DEET bug repellant. Neat thing about this stuff? Gives a positive reading on nerve agent test strips. Also melts plastic. Really.

MRE - Meal Ready to Eat. Also, Meal Rejected by Everyone, Meal Rejected by Ethiopians. I liked the peanut butter. [Ed. Note: Ethiopia actually was one of the countries that accepted donations of MRE's to be fair]

Poggie Bate - candy, goodies, sweets. Shit that reminded you there was a better world out there.

RTO - Radio/Telephone Operator. The guy who knew what was going on at any given time.

Weapon - M16A2.

Gun - Artillery piece.

Hump - March.

Humping the Pig - the act of carrying the M60 machine gun on a patrol or march.

Short or Short-timer - nearing end of duty period or service commitment.

PLF - Parachute Landing Fall, execution of contact points upon parachute landing to minimize impact.
(See Fourth Point of Contact)

Fourth Point of Contact - Buttocks, derived from PLF.
Often used in phrase "Get your head out of your fourth point of contact."

Light-Blub Leader - also Spot Light Leader; person who performs at highest levels only when being observed by superiors. Usually used in training situations like PLDC (Primary Leadership Development Course for NCO's) or OBC (Officer Basic Course).

Well, that's all I can come up with for now - maybe your readers have more?

Ryan has more on the infatuation of the military with breasts (who woulda thunk?):

Have another "Dolly Parton" term for you. I served in the nuclear navy (Submarine Service, yes, we are weird, why else would I read IMAO?)

The fission product yield curve-

http://t2.lanl.gov/tour/yields.gif

was originally referred to as the "Mae West" curve for obvious reasons. Some instructors at Nuclear Power School in more recent years have switched to "Dolly Parton" because the kids have no idea who Mae West is. Durn kids...
I'm not sure if they even use this anymore, as they started admitting women in '96, and the Navy is very sensitive about sexual harassment.

On a side note, if you look into colleges that give credit for military service, they tend to award more for Army, Navy, and Marine training over the Air Force. I believe this is because the AF training is highly specialized in individual components and "black box" change outs, while the other services concentrate on general principles and system interrelations.
For example-

http://www.excelsior.edu/military/military.htm

Here's a Marine's perspective of the Air Force from first hand experience (poor Air Force, but this is pretty damn funny):

My name is Kurt, but I go by "Devil Dog" on your site. That is a nickname that Marines earned during WWI. It was found to have come from the Germans- who said we fought like "tuefel hunden".

Here's another "perspective" story.

First, I need to say that I have supported the Air Force a few times already in some posts here. The Combat Controllers and PJ's are very hard core and tough hombres. The Air Force as a whole is an awesome organization that accomplishes its mission with amazing and highly motivating efficiency.

Having said that, I would add that comparing them to a "military" service like the Army or the Marine Corps is like comparing a district attorney to a police officer. They both work in law enforcement... but that's about as far as it goes. The DA wears a suit and works in an air conditioned court room- often lunching at the local bistro and taking cocktails at the Hyatt. The police officer works with the scum of the planet and eats old sandwiches... and then throws down beer while playing pool in a dirty, but comfortable dive.

I realized early on that the Air Force was different from my Marine Corps. I went to high school with a guy named Ray. Ray enlisted in the Air Force and I in the Marine Corps. Almost immediately after graduation, I went to boot camp, while Ray chose to wait a few months before going to his basic training.

Well, after thirteen weeks of a life altering, incomparably indescribable experience, I returned on leave to my hometown. I went in to visit my recruiter (okay, so I was actually going there to murder him) and saw my old friend Ray in the Air Force office. He was just back from a grueling six weeks of... something he called "basic training". He was wearing his blue uniform and the first thing that occurred to me was that he was in dire need of a haircut. Next, I noticed that he was sporting three ribbons. THREE. I looked down at the breast of my khaki shirt to see nothing but the shiny rifle expert badge. No ribbons.

That was in 1981... and, at that time in the Marine Corps, it was not uncommon to see even a sergeant with only one or two ribbons on his chest. There was no war on at the moment and the Marine Corps does not just hand stuff out. Keep in mind also that for a young man just out of boot camp, having ribbons would have been a very cool thing, indeed.

Anyway, I asked Ray what the ribbons were for. I figured he must have been part of some secret mission, or maybe involved in a life saving operation or something. He smiled as he explained. "This one," he said, "is for graduating basic training."

Huh?? Come again?? You get a ribbon for that? I didn't get one. All I got was the title of a United States Marine and the Eagle, Globe, and Anchor to prove it. Okay, I'm on top with this one.

He pointed to another one. "I got this one for the half day we spent carrying the M16 rifle. We even fired a few rounds out of it."

...fired a few... HOLY CRAP!! I NAMED my rifle-- slept with, made love to, and talked to my rifle for three months!!! And qualified expert on a VERY challenging course of fire. Still... I looked down to my badge... this round went to me also.

As for Ray's final ribbon... I was going to make something up because I really do not remember what he said he got that one for. I decided, though, that wouldn't be right. So, I'll just let you imagine what it may have been for. Maybe someone out there will have some idea what it could have been. All I remember is that it was pretty and shiny, and Ray had put it on crooked.

So, what have we learned? Well, we've learned that we're all different and special in our own way. The Air Force uses decorations to appeal to the ego of the young airman and the Marine Corps uses history and pride and all that stuff. The result is that Marines will fight and win spectacularly, so long as you promise them their rightful place in history while letting them kill bad guys-- and the Air Force will fight and win spectacularly (from a distance, of course), so long as you give them lots of shiny, pretty stuff and lots of creature comforts. Right or wrong, this system seems to work.

Semper Fi!!

P.S. Memo to Air Force: You wouldn't have to "Aim High" if you took the time to learn about the adjustable sights... Kentucky windage is a poor substitute for marksmanship efficiency.

Finally, a number of people have pointed me to this, so I'll finally just put up a link. Here are "The 213 Things Skippy is no Longer Allowed to do in the U.S. Army". Definite drink alert on these.

Our Military VIII

I really like this feature, so, if you have something, either a story or a joke, e-mail me with the subject "Military". Everyone else, enjoy.

* * * *

Pw2 who can confirm firsthand that those camel spiders are large and hard to squish, writes about the incompetence of his own branch:

Many of the comments from Marines about the Air Force not being ready for combat are unfortunately spot-on. I’m a Major in the Air Force Reserve, actually I’m a full time member of the reserve I’m what is know as an Air Reserve Technician. Last year I deployed to Al Udeid Air Base Qatar from June to November in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom. I was deployed as the Deputy Air Reserve Component Liaison. That means I worked for a full Colonel (O-6) who was the Air National Guard’s (ANG) and Air Force Reserve Commands (AFRC) representative on the staff of the Commander Air Forces Central Command. (My Colonel was the go between from the 3 star ANG General and the 3 star AFRC general to the Active Duty 3 star general in charge of the air war.) So as to provide continuity, the Liaison position and the Deputy Liaison position were on staggered 120 day tours. That means the first Colonel I worked for left after about 60 days and a new Colonel replaced him. (I left about 75 days later and was replaced by an ANG Lt Col)

As part of our duties we traveled around the war zone and checked up on the ANG and AFRC troops and made sure they were getting treated fairly. So while I was in the ultimate REMF (Rear Echelon Mother F*%$#r) position, I did travel into Iraq several times. Now the first guy I worked for was pretty sharp I would have confidently followed him into battle. However, the second guy (I’ll call him “Brother Bob”) while a good man who I am sure will get into heaven, would not inspire fear in the hearts of our enemies.

On my first trip into Iraq with “Brother Bob” pretty well sums up why Air Force Officers probably shouldn’t carry guns. Since we were leaving early Tuesday morning, we went to the “armory” on Monday afternoon to get issued weapons (9mm pistol). Since tent city is a weapon free zone, I stored my weapon in Col “Brother Bob’s” trailer inside the CAOC (Combined Air Operations Center) compound. I frankly forgot about the weapons after we locked them up. Since we had a lot to do before traveling (packing, laundry drop off, working out, putting DCU (Desert Camouflage Uniform) covers on our body armor…) we agreed to take care of our errands and meet up again after chow.

When we met back up Col “Brother Bob” (sorta under his breath) told me he needed my help because he had “broken” his gun. He tells me that he was trying to slide it back like he did at the range and it came apart and he couldn’t get it back to together. He goes on to tell me that he asked one of his roommates for help (another Air Force Colonel) and he couldn’t get the gun put back together either. Trying not to laugh, I tell him not to worry I’m sure I can help him put his weapon back together. So we go back to his room were he hands me the disassembled weapon, and I attempt to reconnect the slide to the receiver. It won’t go back together (the two Cols were right about that). Here is where I add to the Air Force Officer mystique, as I removed the slide to investigate what is wrong I forgot to put my thumb on the recoil spring to hold it in place. The recoil spring fell out of place and launched the guide pin across the room. At this point Col “Brother Bob” begins to get nervous and starts to question if I know what I’m doing. I of course assure him I do and I was just careless to let the “pin” get launched like that. (Which is actually true I did know what I was doing, but I was careless) I do admit it took me another couple of minutes (rather than the few seconds I anticipated) to figure out the problem and get the weapon reassembled. (One of the Colonels “twisted” and locked the disassembly button so the weapon could not be reassembled. Once the problem was identified it was easily corrected.) I then briefly went over how to cock, load and reload the M-9.

As a safety measure since we weren’t leaving the Air Base, I made sure we kept our weapons unloaded while in Iraq. I couldn’t think of any viable scenario where the time it takes to put a clip in the weapon would make any difference (with our limited amount of ability) between victory and defeat. I was convinced then and am still convinced we would have much more dangerous to ourselves than to the enemy if we had loaded our weapons. War is Hell!

David sent me this letter from Brad about how things are actually going in Iraq:

Hi everyone,

I just watched the evening news from last night. We get CNN on delay from the states. I realize that most of you dont know anything about what it is like over here except what you hear in the news. It is hard to believe just how wrong they are until you live through it. From what I hear in the news Our position is about to be overrun and we have resorted to negotiating with terrorists to take cities. That is bullshit. I just want to set the record straight. You dont hear about the operations going on 24 hours a day and the stories of guys giving it all for millions of people they dont know. You cant understand the "negotiations" the cobra gunship pilots are bringing to bare until you have seen one screaming across the open desert with singular intention. You dont hear of all the victories the truck drivers and logistics guys win each day just to get us food and water. You sure as hell dont hear about the intel victories. It is so true that when we do things right nothing happens and when we miss something everyone knows.
I was being harrassed by an Iraqi woman the other day for our pilots shooting a mosque. She couldnt see that a sniper in a minerette earned that full belt of 20mm cannon fire from the cobra. I mean, who knows...the pilot could have missed with the first 200 rounds. Better to be safe and finish off the can. Besides the gun camera shots make great morale films for those of us at base. There is nothing like seeing your enemy blown free of a 100' tower on a night vision scope. Perhaps it makes me a warmongering, blood thirsty, zealot, but I find that the only solution for fanatics is to bring to bare fanatics of our own. Did I mention I love my job. Ok enough of my ranting, I just wanted everyone to know that we are not sitting idly by waiting for insurgents to drop rounds on our heads, we are taking the fight to them. Each in our own way. We constantly remind these people of the great freedoms and liberties we offer and also the terrible swift sword that seeks those wh o bite our open hand of offering.

Yankee Imperialist Running Dog has a few more variations of the snipe hunt for newbies:

Frank, very funny stuff.
All the others, good stories, keep 'em coming. My Dad was in the Army, airborne infantry, in WWII and told me he sent money home to his folks to buy him a colt M-1911 .45 pistol as a back up even though he was supposed to have a sidearm since he was a Sgt., so who knows things fall through the cracks.
I was a newly minted ensign in '80 and, I guess, really a FNG and very green. An old CPO sent me on a snipe hunt down in main engineering as my right of passage. Embarrassing but all in good fun. Later, as an LTJG, I sent new ensigns to stand watch for the mail buoy and to the Quartermasters for some sky hooks.
Thanks for bringing back the memories. God bless are brave men and women in harms way that someday they will have memories of happier times.

Pam sent this story in which I assume is a joke:

A Marine was deployed to Afghanistan. While he was there, he received a letter from his girlfriend. In the letter she explained that she had slept with two guys while he had been gone, and that she wanted to break up with him ... AND, that she wanted the pictures that he had of her back.

So, the Marine did what any squared-away Marine would do. He went around to his buddies and collected all of the unwanted photos of women that he could find.

He then mailed about 25 pictures of women (some with clothes, some without) to his girlfriend with the following note ...

"I don't remember which one you are. Please remove your picture and send the rest back."

BloodSpite sends this one in about Rangers versus Special Forces:

Rangers vs SF

The Chief of Staff of the Army asked his Sergeant Major, who was both Ranger and Special Forces qualified, which organization he would recommend to form a new anti-terrorist unit. The Sergeant Major responded to the General's question with this parable: If there were a hijacked Boeing 747 being held by terrorists along with its passengers and crew and an anti-terrorist unit formed either by the Rangers or the Special Forces was given a Rescue/Recovery Mission; what would you expect to happen?

Ranger Option

Forces/Equipment Committed: If the Rangers went in, they would send a Ranger company of 120 men with standard army issue equipment.

Mission Preparation: The Ranger Company First Sergeant would conduct a Hair Cut and Boots Inspection.

Infiltration Technique: They would insist on double timing, in company formation, wearing their combat equipment, and singing Jody cadence all the way to the site of the hijacked aircraft.

Actions in the Objective Area: Once they arrived, the Ranger company would establish their ORP, put out security elements, conduct a leaders recon, reapply their face cammo, and conduct final preparations for Actions on the OBJ.

Results of Operation: The Rescue/Recovery Operation would be completed within one hour; all of the terrorists and most of the passengers would have been killed, the Rangers would have sustained light casualties and the 747 would be worthless to anyone except a scrap dealer.

Special Forces Option

Forces/Equipment Committed: If Special Forces went in, they would send only a 12 man team (all SF units are divisible by 12 for some arcane historical reason) however, due to the exotic nature of their equipment the SF Team would cost the same amount to deploy as the Ranger Company.

Mission Preparation: The SF Team Sergeant would request relaxed grooming standards for the team.

Infiltration Technique: The team would insist on separate travel orders with Max Per Diem, and each would get to the site of the hijacking by his own means. At least one third of the team would insist on jumping in.

Actions in the Objective Area: Once they arrived , the SF Team would cache their military uniforms, establish a Team Room, use their illegal Team Fund to stock the unauthorized Team Room Bar, check out the situation by talking to the locals, and have a Team Meeting to discuss the merits of the terrorists' cause.

Results of Operation: The Rescue/Recovery Operation would take two weeks to complete and by that time all of the terrorists would have been killed, (and would have left signed confessions); the passengers would be ruined psychologically for the remainder of their lives; and all of the women passengers would be pregnant. The 747 would be essentially unharmed, the team would have taken no casualties but would have used up, lost, or stolen all the "high speed" equipment issued to them.

Anonymous (though I know who he is) has this little vignette:

Love your military stories, by the way. Here's one you can post as from an anonymous reader. True story, happened to me.

I'm an Air Force guy who spends a lot of time in Army support assignments. Once while deployed in a tent city environment I was standing in line for chow in a tropical downpour, ankle deep in mud. A soldier in line in front of me turns and says "Hey, are you Air Force?"

"Yep" I reply.

"Man, I wish I'd have joined the Air Force" he said, "you guys don't have to put up with this shit."

Never occurred to him we were both standing in the same line.

Our Military VII

I'm starting to run out of anecdotes, so, if you have any more, e-mail me with the subject "Military". I'm trying to get some from my non-lazy Dad from his experiences in Germany and Vietnam, and I'll see if my lazy brother Joe foo' the Marine has anything to say from his tank experience.

* * * *

Scott from the State of North Carolina writes in defense of the Air Force and inter-branch harmony:

I’ve got to defend the Air Force a little here. I realize the majority of people in the Air Force are not required to bring the battle to the enemy on the ground and will never be asked to do so. Our people are well taken care of and, by everyone’s admission; we contain the some of the brightest enlisted and officer corps of all the services.

I’ve partaken in a little service rivalry from time to time, but I will never forget the honor of the Marines, the ruggedness of the Army or the perseverance of the Navy (what else would you call six months away from friends and family) because it’s all done in good fun, for the most part. But I’ve got to take issue with the comment about how silly it was that the AF NCOs were taking out trash. As an NCO, I lead my troops, they are not my servants, and I never ask them to do anything I would not do myself, I would not belittle them and refuse to take out the trash because it was “below me”. We don’t have a huge amount of lower enlisted men and women, our people are busy and overworked, we do what we have to do to make things happen, if I have to take out the trash to take some of the burden off my airmen, I will do so. I’ve been told by leaders I respect that my airmen have only been loaned to me, and it is my responsibility to return them in the same or better shape than when they arrived.

I know some Marine NCOs, Army NCOs and Naval NCOs, and most I have known would agree with me. There are some in every branch that sink to the level that their troops are there to serve them, but, in my experience, they never make it too far and they are not well respected among their peers.

Why focus on how good you are at pool and being a dick to fellow servicemen when your branch has taken part in the great struggles of this nation and obtained victory? Why sneer about someone with more rank than you taking out the trash when your service was named “Devildogs” by its greatest enemies?

Service rivalry is a good thing and those who have served should take part, but don’t forget where you come from and don’t brag about your toughness, actions speak louder than words. Recent events prove as much, Marines have balls of steel, they don’t need to tell us that fact. Service members should provide insight not vitriol for this forum.

One other thing, there is no Sergeant rank in the Air Force, that’s a Senior Airman (E-4), and that rank is the same as a Corporal. In the good ole days there were Buck Sergeants, but that rank no longer exists. A Staff Sergeant (E-5) in the Air Force equals a Sergeant in the Marines and there is no such thing as a Master Technical Sergeant. There is a Technical Sergeant (E-6) and a Master Sergeant (E-7).

Just my two cents.

Timmer has some good things (and a few bad things) to say about all the branches of the military:

Master Sergeant, United States Air Force, I'll have 20 years in July and the last 6 years have been in joint assignments so I've been around all branches of the service, not just my own near and dear Air Force.

First of all, without a doubt, the United States has the best armed forces in the world. Why? Because we're Americans and as Americans we never lose our sense of independence and our ability to, ummm, adapt the rules when they're in the way of getting the job done. If we'd ever gone against the Soviets, we'd have been hurt, but we'd have won. All we had to do was take out their officers and they'd have been clueless.
There isn't an American enlisted person who doesn't KNOW that they've got a better idea. I know that most of the world considers us arrogant, I just refuse to aplogize for having our act together.

Air Force. Enlisted corps is mostly made up of very smart and smart assed personnel. The smart assed part never quite wears off. However, after a deployment or a Temporary Duty or a short tour to locations unpleasant, they also usually get it. What's "it?" It is knowing that what you're doing affects a LOT of different people and if you screw up, someone could die, or worse, not get paid. We're in the country club of the armed forces and we know it. A lot of that comes from not carrying a gun and/or getting shot at very often. We have the best food. We have the best quarters. We also work on multi-million dollar systems and have more and take more responsibility than some other branches.
Air Force Officers trust their enlisted personnel with their lives and their careers. We live up to that or we get out or we get asked to leave. It's not our job to be "hard core." It's our job to make sure the systems we work on are hard core.

Navy. They're smart and they know it. They somehow think that crusing around the ocean all crammed together makes them better at what they do,
having never done that, I'll not give judgement. I will say their
Senior Non Coms have got it right. They run things, they know it, so does everyone else including the Captain of the boat. Navy Officers are stuffier than other officers. Some of them simply don't know how to relax around their enlisted folks. Oh...and submariners and carrier squids are crazy. No, really. Bubbleheads (submariners) are just plain weird. And Carrier Operations make us Air Force types cringe. 18 hours of non-stop air operations on a boat?! IN-FREAKING-SANE! I'm glad they're out there.

Army. Two kinds of enlisted folks. The dumb ones and the wicked smart ones who act dumb. Never underestimate the Army. The quiet guy who's been acting clueless for the past six months will come up with just the right way to work a problem just when it matters. Army officers trust their enlisted folks once they figure out what kind they have. The Army does have an annoying habit of "banishing" their truly clueless to the staff level. Not all of them, they don't want to make it obvious, but the deal is, if they can't make it in the field, then they sort of get recommended to a staff job. Having known Army guys off-duty, I know they find this funny.

Marines. I've worked for Marines and I've worked with Marines and I've had Marines work for me. Read this carefully and try to understand it fully. Absolutely nobody does it better than the Marines. Their officers trust their NCOs from ALL branches of the servie without hesitation and have very high expectations. They're hard to work for, but you know exactly what they expect and they're better at sharing credit on a project than any other officers I've ever met. Working with Marines can be hard, they're freaking tireless. Supervisiing Marines is an absolute joy. They do what they're told when they're told to do it and they never question their orders. That makes supervising them very difficult too. You have to be careful what you say...they may think it's an order.

Finally, Mike write about Dolly Parton and the misunderstood coolness of tanks:

Hi Frank,

I've got a couple of items.

Dolly Parton is something of a military icon. Two examples I'm aware of: the Russians came out with an improved t-72 that had extra armor on the turret front, which made two noticable bulges. It was dubbed the "Dolly Parton Special." At Ft. Hood, on one of the tank ranges, there is a large, round hill. It is named, naturally, "Dolly Parton." I bet Dolly would get a kick out of this.

Here's an amusing tale, for your "dumb-ass tankers"
file. My Guard tank company was on a range for gunnery qualification (at the above mentioned range, in fact). I was hanging out with some of my buddies in our sleeping area when this Deuce-and-a-half drove by. In it were a bunch of female soldiers (who, we found out later, were nurses). They drove by slowly, and we all stared at each other. Then they continued on down to a covered structure that we used as a briefing and eating area. They got out there and hung out with the guys who were observing tanks. Then they left abruptly. We found out later what happened.
Everything was all nice and flirty until a tank in the first firing position fired. This position was VERY close, and thus very loud. All the tankers started yelling "Woooo!" "Hooo-ah!" "Yeee-haw!" and similar sentiments. Meanwhile, the nurses nearly flinched out of their skins and covered their delicate ears. One more round, and they'd had enough and split. The tankers shrugged and went back to cheering the big booms.

One of the guys made a recording of one of the crews in action (there was a radio monitoring their intercom, for evaluation), and got a great sound of the tank firing. A long, reverberating "booooooooom!"
He took this tape to parties. He said other people (i.e. non-tankers) didn't seem to understand why it was so cool.

Our Military VI

Here are some more military stories I've been e-amiled. Thanks again to everyone who's e-mailed and I'll try to put them all out eventually. My dad who - by the way - served in Vietnam has a few anecdotes I always like, so I'll have to see if he'll write them out.

Once again, there is no editing so beware of foul language that might soil thine ears.

* * * *

Drill Sergeant Rob disputes a few things said previously:

Hey Frank,

I've been reading for a looong time, but I don't usually comment much. I was gonna stay out of this, but here's what I got in response to the piece by the Marine.

By the way, if you ever want to check out my amateur blog.. here it is. http://anamericansoldier.blogspot.com [Ed Note: There are professional blogs?]

Here's the response...

OK… I was gonna stay out of this but…

If you’ve ever been in the middle of a Barroom fight, you know that sometimes it’s best to secure a corner, shelter your beer (or Peach Daquiri if you’re in the Navy) from harm, and watch the fun without actively participating. There is a lot to be said for having ringside seats at a slugfest and staying out of trouble at the same time. (Especially when you have some rank to lose.)

Then it happens… some Marine takes a poke at one of your boys… and it’s on. Rank be damned, joke over, the Guiness either hits the floor or somebody, and it’s into the fray you go.

Now I like Marines, I really do. Some of my best friends are Marines and I love the fact that once they figure out what you’re saying (You have to speak slowly) they will defend their beloved Corps to the death. But now that the first few punches have been thrown, I think I need to finish this fight.

I think a quick jab… followed by a hard right to the chin should do it.

“ The Air Force does have the highest ASVAB requirements... they are the same as the Marines.”

The Air force has the highest requirements, with a minimum score of 40. This is a good choice if your idea of being hardcore is living in a hotel without a concierge service for the duration of your deployment.

The Navy comes in second with a minimum score of 35. See the world, destroy the enemy from half a continent away, cross the equator several times… always claiming it is your first, what could be better?

The Marines actually come in third, with a minimum score of 32… but this is waiver-able with as low a score as 25.

And the lowest standard for the ASVAB belongs to, of course, the Army. HOWEVER, this is only waiver-able down to a 26.

So assuming you are a complete lug-nut, OR you indulged more than most on the night before your test and filled in A C D C over and over for the length of the score sheet and scored a 25, you will be forced, as a last resort, to enter the Marines. (source)

(that was the jab… here’s the haymaker)

“The US Navy is the only branch of the US military that is older than the Marines, and the Royal Marines of the UK are the only Marine Corps that is older than the US Marine Corps. The US Navy was officially formed in the first half of 1775 (I don't remember the date because I don't consider the start up date for a taxi service to be important), while the US Marine Corps was formed by an act of the Continental Congress on November 10, 1775 (Veterans Day falls the next day). The United States of America was not even formed until 1790 at the earliest, and the US Army was not formed until 1796.”

So which MEU did General Washington command, anyway?

The United States Army was created by the second Continental Congress on June 14th, 1775. (That’s six months prior to November, Pyle) (source)

And I know it’s been a little while since I last took American History, but I would have sworn that the United States was created with the Declaration of Independence in 1776. (Here’s a clue…Fireworks). But maybe you were talking about the introduction of the Articles of Confederation. Oh wait… that was 1778. Ratification of the Constitution? 1788. Election of the first President? 1789.

So what did happen in 1790 that would concern Marines? Well… I was at a loss, so I decided to Google it. Apparently 1790 was the year that a predecessor of the US Coast Guard was formed. It was actually known as the Cutters, or A System of Cutters. It was formed out of necessity, since the US Navy had been disbanded in 1785. This would be a very significant date for the Marines, who had apparently been forlornly standing on the Dock for five years…waiting on a ride.

(Before you get all riled up, remember that this is all in fun… and all our fellow Soldiers, Marines, Sailors and Airmen are across the water working together, doing a hard job in a hard situation. We need every branch of service and I salute anyone who is willing to serve this great country in whatever service they choose.)

Jim sends in this story about training, snakes, and gnarring:

You posted my story from Osan about my Air Force brethren and more enjoyably sistren, muchas gracias it cracks my friends up.

The next post was from

AJ (LC The Humble Devildog) Garin from The People's Democratic Republic of Madison, WI

Although my 312 area code screams Chicago, I actually am a citizen of Moscow of the Midwest, Madison, Wisconsin. I would appreciate if you could send my contact info to your Leatherneck buddy as I am always looking for brothers in arms.

Just For Grins Marines and Their Army Instructors, We, Army Special Forces always impress.

The game, for Frequent Storm, was this. The island nation of, whatever name some jagoff major in DC gave it, was bad. At this time that meant communist but for whatever reason we were going to make a “regime change”. Our role in this is known as guerrilla warfare. We sneak in and link up with locals who don’t like the Jagoffian government. We train and equip them and then help these intrepid freedom fighters “Enact a regime change.” It should surprise no one that our government has been practicing this. My favorite image is the Van Hagar video for “Right Now” they have subtitles through the whole thing and at one point it shows animated stick figures. Two are talking and a third is kneeling behind the victim. One shove and the victim takes a fall while the text reads, “Right now our government is doing things we think only other governments do”. Hmm. We are aren’t we? Anywho.

Whatever intentions we may have had for lollygagging our way through this exercise, Chief Rodd was going to train, and his ally was the team sergeant Butch . That was too much for the rest of us too overcome, so we resigned ourselves to actually busting our asses. We didn’t know just what we had just bought into. We had almost a full week for isolation, way too long. That gave Chief Rodd plenty of time to show us how much fun patrolling in the jungle can be. Now all of us had patrolled in the jungle before, we just hadn’t done it anywhere near as slowly as we soon learned we needed too. We had plenty of time scheduled to practice all of our walking in the great outdoors procedures, and the first afternoon was a real eye opener. We saddled up and figured we would wander around doing hand and arm signals for a while and then head back to the hooch. We got about 10 steps out of the compound before Chief Rodd halted us and told us we were not going to move very far, but he wanted us to pay complete attention to what we were doing. Now you have to understand, hearing “We are not moving very far” is normally excellent news, and in all honesty we moved less than 1000 meters. But it took us almost four hours. That’s not because we laid in the shade and rested, then walked in at the end. It’s because we moved that fucking slow. Lawdy lawdy, we would take a step and then freeze, listen, smell, sense, commune, meditate, and many other very passive things that you can do while crouched in the jungle carrying very heavy things in the stifling heat. The truth is that is was instantly obvious that Chief definitely knew what he was doing, and also that it was kicking our asses.

Our re-invasion of Okinawa paled beyond insignificance when compared to the original. WWII was close to over when we invaded, but Okinawa had to go before we could take a shot at the main islands of Japan. The Japanese were dug into the caves and hills of a tropical coral aquarium toy and they were deep into the kamikaze mentality as an enemy. They had no supplies and no real hope but somehow that made them tougher as every encounter was a last shot at immortality for a Japanese soldier. The island was so unbelievably harsh that walking, or more accurately crawling over much of it gave us incredible empathy for everyone who had to finish up a war here.

Our mode for sneaking into Jagoffia involved a rented,shrimp trawler with our rolled up Zodiac boats and gear dropping us about 10 miles off the coast from our beach landing zone. We inflate the boats and drive to a link up with our new allies, sounds not simple but doable. Before we could do all this water operating we needed a briefing about the dangerous marine life. Our medic “Gorgeous” George told us of the dangers from sea snakes. Now George is from near Boston so he has that accent to start with, but he is also Portuguese so there is that flavor thrown into the mix. But, the kicker was that he dipped Copenhagen snuff about half a can at a time. Add this together and you have a completely incomprehensible individual. As he informed us of the dangers posed by sea snakes he stated in a mélange of accents that I will not attempt to reproduce, “Now sea snakes are as deadly as anything on earth, but they can’t bite you very easily because they have tiny little teeth. They almost gotta get a little flap of skin like between your fingers and gnorr on it.” Now the only word I changed was gnaw to gnorr. You have to hear that whole quote in the combination Boston, Portuguese, Copenhagen accent to truly love it, but once he said gnorr we all lost it. I asked the question on everyone’s mind “George, what the fuck did you just say? It sounded like you said the snake had to gnorr on you to hurt you.” “Yeah that’s right they gotta get a real little piece of skin and gnorr on it. They got little tiny teeth, that’s all they can do.” He replied. I had to finish up with the question on everybody’s mind “Are you saying that the snake has to gnaw on us in order to hurt us?” “Exactly” he answered, “They gotta gnorr on ya’.”

We managed to navigate our way onto our home island without any gnorring related injuries. There we met up with our guerrillas and moved to the base camp. Our guerrillas, for this exercise, were Marine aircraft mechanics and our opponents were a Marine infantry unit portraying the military of Jagoffia. Actually, our opponents were a particularly famous marine infantry unit with two unit flags obtained during a noble exploit, their difficulty was that we had actually done extensive work under the canopy of this hellhole, and they had no clue how horrible the ground really was.

Part of guerrilla warfare is taking people with few combat skills, like our mechanics, and teaching them to fight and survive. Craig and I took a patrol out to practice some of theses skills and along the way we came upon the other famous island snake, Habu the pit viper. This sweet critter was also in George’s briefing and we were informed of the nastiness of it’s venom and it’s inch and a half long fangs. When our point Marine froze and pointed to one coiled on a rock in a creek bed, Craig decided it was a good time to start his snakeskin collection. Somehow Craiggles had confused the sea snake and habu. He thought that habu was the one with the tiny teeth that had to gnorr on you. The Marines, who knew how dangerous the snake was, watched awestruck as Craig pulled out his K-bar and started poking at the viper. I could see some of this from my position at the back, but I couldn’t believe the answer when I asked one of the Marines what was going on. “Sgt. Lewis is killing a habu with his knife” came the reply. “WHAT?” I hissed. “Yeah, he told us to let him know if we saw any ‘cuz he wanted the skin” the private informed me. “Holy Shit!” was all I could manage. I hurried to where Craig was crouching down doing his best Crocodile Hunter imitation with the snake draped over his not very long knife blade. “Drop it you fuckin’ idiot” I told him. He flashed me his most charming, dumbass smile and said, “Relax man. This is habu, remember “they gotta gnorr on you” you know, George, all that shit.” “Drop the fuckin’ snake Craig.” I commanded, “That was sea snakes that gnorr. THAT is a fuckin’ habu with big fuckin’ teeth.” Craig doing the best job of turning ghost white I have ever seen for a black man, promptly dropped the snake and jumped several feet backward. I then did the bright thing and dropped a BAR (big ass rock) on the snake, which up ‘til then had been too amazed to bite the fool.

I grabbed Craig who was shaking pretty good and said, “You are one lucky motherfucker. If that thing had bit you I think I might’ve just let you die ‘cuz that was Darwin Awards quality stupidity.” “Oh my God” was all Craig had left. “Alright now get your shit together,” I told him, “Those Marines think you did that shit on purpose. We’ve got the makings of an excellent legend here. These fucker’s are gonna be telling the story of crazy Sgt. Lewis who kills vipers with a K-bar, for the rest of their lives. You gotta play this off like you meant it.” That was something Craig could buy off on, so he sucked it up and headed back to tell the troopies not to try this at home because we were trained professionals. He graciously donated the skin to one of the Marines who “cured” it with salt from his MREs and made a hatband for his flop hat. The problem was once the story got out all our guerrillas wanted to be mighty, snake slayers and pretty soon our base camp looked like a taxidermy shop with hides tacked to every tree, most perfectly, harmless varieties.

Mark writes about military friends and life on a ship:

One thing to remember about guys who are remembering their military past is that back when they were in, they probably didn't like the guys they hung around with - while if they were to run into one of them in the present, they'd probably just about kiss them.

For men thinking back on it, the most important thing is to remember that back then they were young, and healthy with no worries and if any worries showed up, there were 20 buddies who had your back.

Thinking back on it...

There was the guy who manned the consol that controlled the nuclear-armed Tomahawk cruise missiles...and all he wanted to do was be allowed to launch just one at the middle east to settle it out a bit; that was back in 1985 - the man was apparantly psychic (addendum; I can neither confirm, nor deny, that there were any nuclear weapons on board my ship).

There was the guy who got hungry one night and beat up the Domino's delivery guy because he wouldn't give him a free pizza.

There where the two who would wrap electric cables around their heads, don capes (ie, towells) and jump about being RADIOMAN, DEFENDER'S OF DEMOCRACY (and beer).

Navy ships are "dry", but it was always funny the way the XO would get himself tangled up in the security curtain every time he went into the radio shack.

Uncle Sam is an ok friend - he tied up a barge alongside and allowed us to drink beer on it in the middle of the Persian Gulf...ok friend; had he been a good friend it wouldn't have been 3.2 beer and there would have been more than three per man (then again, 300 drunken sailors armed with nuclear weapons might have caused a diplomatic incident, or something).

How do you replace a broken copier? Well, you can either fill out a bazillion forms in triplicate, or you can just toss it over the side, report it "lost at sea" and they'll express one out to you at God only knows what cost to the taxpayer...

Don't tell anyone that what they're actually doing out there at sea is fishing...please pay no attention to the vast array of fishing gear each ship has on it as it heads to sea.

You drink a lot of beer and tarry with women of low repute when ashore because you can, and its fun.

Bob Kingsbery from Frisco, Texas has a WWII story about the lengths men will go to for cold beer:

My father, Jack Kingsbery, was a bomber group crew chief in England during WWII. Here is one of his stories...

On one bombing mission German fighter planes hit one of our B-24's engines. The pilot was able to feather the engine and fly it home safely. There was a shortage of bombers; so all combat-damaged planes were repaired as fast as possible and sent back into action. We removed the damaged engine and had the new engine installed by daylight, ready for a test flight to be sure it functioned properly.

This was in mid-July and it can get hot even in England. The British pubs served their beer at room temperature. American soldiers really complained about the "warm" beer but drank it anyway. Sometimes Air Transport Command personnel who flew new planes to our base would bring several cases of good old American beer for our base personnel. Since there was no ice on our base our soldiers had to drink the American beer warm.

A new B-24 had come in from the states that morning and was parked next to our plane. The ferry crew gave our ground crew two cases of Lone Star beer. About that time a flight crew came out for the test flight on my plane. The normal test for a new engine is to fly 30 or 40 minutes at about 5,000 feet. Since we had worked all night replacing the engine I felt my crew needed a reward. I changed the flight plan and wrote that the plane needed to fly to 25,000 feet. The temperature at that height would be about zero. I told my ground crew to fill two five-gallon buckets with water, put the bottles of Lone Star in the water and load the buckets on the plane.

The test flight crew never questions the authority of the crew chief so off my plane went into the wild blue yonder. After reaching 25,000 feet the water in the two beer buckets began to freeze. When the plane landed the Lone Star was icy cold and our crew had a well-deserved beer bash. Flying a B-24 to 25,000 feet requires lots of fuel. I'm sure we probably set an all-time record for the cost of producing cold beer. But my crew said the cold beer was great.

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I have a backlog of more to put up, but keep it coming. If you have military experience (first-hand or second-hand) I'd love to hear more jokes and anecdotes. E-mail me with the subject "Military".

Our Military V

More military anecdotes, and hopefully none of these will get any blood boiling. I don't edit these like I do The Limey, so they may have foul language if that bothers you.

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Max has a bit more on the feared drill instructor plus other comments:

I've been a reader for some time. Great work! Saw your call for anecdotes from former military folks. I was in the USMC Reserves from 1982-1988, doing active drills from '83 to '86, and active duty for training. Never saw combat, but like a lot of reservists, I was going to school at the time - in my case, I was attending UC Berkeley, which was a different kind of combat.

I've had the usual radical-vs-military debates hundreds of times, dignified as "debates" only because they were filled with sound and fury, and signified nothing. The usual flow was something like this:

Them: Reagan's a Nazi!
Me: Well, I think Reagan is okay.
Them: You fascist!
Me: Hey, what's fascist about that?
Them: Next question.
Me: No, really, what's fascist about that?
Them: If you have to ask, you're beyond help.

My favorite military anecdote is from boot camp. One of the DIs threw away an old pair of shoes, and one of the recruits pulled them out of the trash, I think to see how well-polished they were. Later, the DI came out of the duty hut, noticed the shoes, and started screaming at the recruit. "God Damnit! I can't even fucking throw things away without monkeys like you digging my shit out of the garbage? I can't believe it! Thank God I flush after I go to the head, or you'd probably fish that out and send it home to your momma, too!" Poor kid about had an embolism on the spot.

I also cracked up (inside, so that I didn't have to join the guy being disciplined) every time that a DI told a recruit "you're gonna do this until I get tired." You have to be there to understand it... It's hard to explain how funny Drill Instructors can be when you're tired, and stressed, and close to graduation.

Adam from Utah(NBCOFL) writes about the need for sidearms:

I think the military branches have two things totally in common. Their number one goal is protecting america by killing evil forigners, either from above(USAF), below(NAVY), from afar(ARMY), or upclose(Marines), and thusly will always have my utmost respect and admiration.

They also have in common the fact that vile nasty liberals will always oppose their number one goal even at the cost of the lives of these heroes.

I have only an example from my best friend who is a marine. He just returned from IRAQ. He said the biggest problem he had with the combat wasn't the killing or the bad food or the dusty hellhole that is IRAQ. It was that thanks to Clintons slashing and burning of america's military, only officers got issued sidearms. This is still the case after 4 years of a sane president trying to recover from Clinton! when riding from one place to another he got to sit unarmed in the front seat, and when they came under fire (numerous times) he had the distinct pleasure of having to run to the back of the vehicle, under fire, to retrieve his M-16 before he could get back to goal #1.

I know this is a marine story, but i bet other services have other such gripes, even if they aren't so vividly played out under fire.

I never knew the rules on who gets sidearms in the military, but it seems to be pretty bad to go out where you might have actual combat and not have a backup gun.

Lydia writes about here military experience with pudding:

I wasn't gonna inundate you with more military stuff, but I've got a good anecdote you might like to hear.

I was in GW I, and one of my fondest memories is an incident between myself and my Squad Sgt, Sgt. Salazar (Sgt. Sal).

I had just finished night shift, and he was my relief. We grabbed some chow, which (rarely) included pudding. Kicking back and eatin in the shelter (very cramped, squat-T-shaped metal box on the bed of a truck), Sgt Sal was busy watching the switchboard, while I went off into la-la-land, dredging up memories of how me and my brother used to do the ole "you like seafood?" bit. So, as a gag, I put some puddin in the yaw, and patiently waited, and waited, and waited for Sal to turn around. But my patience wouldn't last long, because the simple expectation (plus being giddy after 12 hrs) of his reaction brought on uncontrollable, yet stifled giggles. Just when I couldn't hold it anymore, Sal turns to me RIGHT as the giggles turn into full blown laughter, and **SPLAT**, I spew pudding all over him, mostly his face.

Well, I began laughing like a fucking hyena at this point. The look on his face was to die for... a WTF? combined with "what a fucking maroon" and then an eventual smile and laughter, cuz laughter after all, is contagious.

Jeff from St. Paul Minnesota sent this:

My brother, who graduated from the Air Force Academy, sent me these. I was instructed to open them in the following order: Marine, Army, Navy and Air Force.

Marine
Army
Navy
Air Force

Good 'ole Serenity has this about hazing the new guys:

Don't have any long particular incidents to tell you about and I don't know if anybody has already told you about this little trick we used to play on the FNG's (F*cking New Guys) aka newbies.

I was a Military Police officer and while we did mostly garrison duty, we also had to go out to the field quite a bit to train for war time situations and how to set up perimeters, road blocks, deal with EPW's, etc.

Therefore, if one wasn't scheduled for duty, meaning, garrison duty, that person would be in training. Whenever we would get a newbie, they always went straight into training for one to two weeks. Part of our training was dealing with maps and also maintaining our HUMVEES. (It's been so long I forgot the correct abbreviation).

To break the newbie in and to give ourselves a nice laugh at their expense, we would be in the middle of training and the trainer would stop and say, "Damnit! I forgot the grid squares! PVT Newbie! Go to the 1st Sgt and get the box of grid squares from him. They're in his office."

And the newbie would go.

As you know, there is no such thing as a box of grid squares. The grid squares are already drawn on the map.

Other times we would be out at the motorpool going over our vehicles, HUMVEES. If we had a newbie, we would send him off on a mission.

"PVT Newbie! Go to the person in charge at the motorpool and ask him for the keys so we can start these HUMVEES."

And off the newbie would go.

HUMVEES don't require a key to start. It's a matter of flicking a switch. What's even more hilarious is that the ONLY keys required were the ones to unlock the steering column/wheel and we would have already done this, right in front of the newbie.

This was a great way to size up the newbie, see how smart they were and welcome them into our platoon.

Reminds me of when I worked in the foodcourt of a mall, and the common joke for a newbie was to send him to another resturaunt to get a bucket of steam. I was spared the joke because I never listen:

"I'm here to get something."
"What?"
"I dunno; call 'em back and ask 'em."

Finally, Darin has some wisdom from the definitve source:

My favorite military quote: "They don't call me Colonel Homer because I am some dumb-ass army guy" -Homer Simpson

Bonus point to who can identify the episode that's from without looking it up.

* * * *

I have a backlog of more to put up, but keep it coming. If you have military experience (first-hand or second-hand) I'd love to hear more jokes and anecdotes. E-mail me with the subject "Military". A big thanks to everyone who has sent in e-mails already.

Our Military IV

I'm honestly not trying to start any feuds; all you military branches should play nice. BTW, do people in the military have jokes at the expense of civilians?

(warning, items contain adult language - hell, how many kids read this site?)

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Jim writes:

This represents an Army view of the Air Force.

As usual we were arguing as we headed to Easy Rider’s, a wonderfully, sleazy biker bar outside Osan AB, Korea. “There is no fuckin’ way that shit will still be on the wall” I informed Sammy. “Bullshit” he retorted, “If God actually does still love us then it will be there”. The “shit” under discussion was a chalk-written phrase on the wall of the bar stating, “Day 105 and God still loves us” that we put there a year previously. We walked in and began looking for the graffiti. There was plenty about, just not the piece we wanted. The exact location was a little hazy due to our condition when writing it. “Right there” Sammy declared, “It was right there”. That’s a fucking dart board you jackass” I informed him. “Then it must be behind it” and he climbed on a stool and pulled the whole thing off the wall and…of course… there it was.

It was significant because the number of days, 105, represented the time since Sam’s resurrection from his first divorce. After a weepy, drunken orgy of self-loathing and decrepitude Sam busted out and became the raving beauty we all loved. This happened shortly after his arrival in Okinawa to B Company, 1st Battalion, 1st Special Forces Group, which at the time was a very famous unit. The fame, more properly infamy, was due to the Sergeant Major of the unit going to Leavenworth for smuggling guns onto Okinawa, apparently for sale to the Yakuza, the Japanese mafia. The payment apparently was gold and someone involved failed a piss test for drugs so we changed the unofficial company motto to “Bravo, First of the First, Drugs, Guns and Gold”. We considered making t-shirts but assumed that someone in authority would disapprove. Sam and I were both fresh from the Special Forces Qualification Course or “Q” course and Oki was our first Special Forces assignment. Normally cherries don’t go to Oki because it is forward-deployed and gets much more dangerous missions than the stateside units but there were other members of the unit involved with the smuggling and the command structure wanted some fresh meat not connected to the incident or individuals.

Having found the evidence that God still loved us; we assumed that boded well for the rest of our evening. Grabbing multiple rum and cokes we proceeded to the pool table. Sam is a legitimately good player with flashes of brilliance and I often don’t suck, but that night the juju was all good. We won the table and Sam informed the room “Table stakes is a round for the winners and we will kick the shit out of any of you Air Force homos who step up”. This went over like a turd in a punch bowl and we readily had our first victims. The prediction was eerily accurate though, as we just couldn’t lose. We quickly accumulated a long row of full glasses and every victory was accompanied with much pontificating as I educated all present on the shortcomings of the US Air Force and their lineage. “The main problem with the Air Force is that it’s not really even a military service. You live in dormitories and eat in cafeterias. Christ it’s a fuckin’ fraternity.” I taught. Our continued success and verbal excess was beginning to chafe, and the natives were seething. The flashpoint was Sam lining up on the eight ball then looking away at me, smiling at the poor wingnut, and burying the ball in the pocket without even looking, proclaiming “Next!”

I was in the process of remounting my soapbox to continue my education of the unwashed masses, when I heard a nasty thwack and turned to see one of guys we had just thumped, thump the ground. I looked back and Sammy had a pool ball in his hand and an amazed look on his face. “Damn” he said “That fucker was gonna hit you with a cue”. That was about all the discussing we did, as this was obviously time to exit. After an adrenaline-filled run through the alleys we stopped and I asked him “What the fuck just happened?” “I told you mothafucker that mothafucker was gonna hit you with a pool cue. I think I broke his skull” “No” I said, “I saw him he was OWT out but his head was OK”. “I hit him with the fuckin’ cue ball BAM” Sammy recalled, “He just laid right the fuck down”. “No shit” I agreed, “Just out of curiosity, you don’t happen to know where the fuck we are do you?” We both looked around and it was apparent that we were in Korea but as to where no clue.

AJ (LC The Humble Devildog) Garin from The People's Democratic Republic of Madison, WI writes:

Reading all of your comments by Air Farce, Army, and Navy veterans has compelled me, a humble Marine (no such thing) to chime in.

1. The Air Force does have the highest ASVAB requirements... they are the same as the Marines. The Marines are the hardest branch to get into because you have to be very smart AND strong AND tough AND just a touch crazy. The average Marine enlisted man when I was in (1989-1992) had 3 years of college, more than Army officers! And that includes people like me, for whom Boot Camp was my higher education. (btw, only Marines go to Boot Camp, all the others go to basic training)

2. The Marines have a heated rivalry with the Navy that goes back to before this country was even official, but the Marines and the Army have actually exchanged fire with each other, during a time of war, in a combat zone, on the front lines, ON PURPOSE! The two regiments in question had to be pulled off the front line during a heightened alert to keep them from trying to kill each other. It happened during WWII, I believe it was during the battle of Guadalcanal, but it might have happened later. I have read several accounts of the incident, but the US Government tries to discourage research into the incident because it kinda makes the Army look bad.

3. The US Navy is the only branch of the US military that is older than the Marines, and the Royal Marines of the UK are the only Marine Corps that is older than the US Marine Corps. The US Navy was officially formed in the first half of 1775 (I don't remember the date because I don't consider the start up date for a taxi service to be important), while the US Marine Corps was formed by an act of the Continental Congress on November 10, 1775 (Veterans Day falls the next day). The United States of America was not even formed until 1790 at the earliest, and the US Army was not formed until 1796. So the Marines kinda view the Army as the (somewhat retarded) younger brother who tries so hard to impress his older brother, but always seems to wind up falling of his face in the process. As all big brothers must do, when the little brother fails, we have to go in and pick him up, dust him off, and show him how it's really done.

4. Just because Marines charge machine-guns for a living, does not mean they are stupid, but it is a good indication.

5. This Marine's feelings on the other branches:

a. Army stands for Ain't Ready for the Marines Yet.

b. We like the Navy... they give us rides.

c. It's too easy to pick on the Air Force, no challenge in it. They're Boy Scouts with planes.

6. When I was in the Middle East for Desert Shield/Storm/Saber, I had to make a trash run. We had to take all of the trash our company had generated over the past 4 weeks to the dump to, well, dump. While we were there, we ran into a trash detail from the Air Force. We compared living conditions. The Air Force pukes were telling us that their conditions were brutal because there was only enough hot water on the base for everyone to take only one hot shower a day... their second shower had to be a cold one. We only had enough water to drink... no showers, or laundry, or shaving with water (yes, we still shaved, just not as often). I wanted to punch the pukes. The only consolation was that our trash detail was 2 non-rate enlisted men (E-3 or lower, of which I was one), and a Corporal to goof off with us, er, make sure we didn't goof off, while their detail was 1 Sergeant (equal to a Corporal in the Marine Corps/Army), 1 Staff Sergeant, and 1 Master Technical Sergeant... they were the most junior men in their unit! In the Marines, Sergeants DO NOT DO trash details, that's what they have us Lance Corporals for.

7. The only thing you need to know about the Marines is that we guarantee it will be destroyed overnight, or the next one's free.

P.S. Buck the Marine couldn't be more of a Marine unless he lost the ability to speak and grunted all his responses. And Marine is ALWAYS capitalized, even when referring to the Royal Marines. The 3 significant Marine Corps are the US Marines, the Royal Marines of the UK, and the Naval Spestnaz of the former USSR. I do not know if the third one still exists, because there was such a small number of them that they were inconsequential. The Republic of Korea also has a Marine Corps, which, while very small, is mentioned in some Bibles in the 11th commandment "Thou shalt not fuck with ROK Marines, for an ass-beating shall soon commence, and thou shall be on the receiving end". They are very tough, very mean, and very well trained. (they get ALOT of live fire training... with live targets...their main job is fighting North Korean infiltrators)

Christine from Foley, AL writes:

I had to relate an experience I had at BMTS (Lackland AFB, San Antonio, TX). It was in August...HOT, HOT, HOT!!! Anyway, it was towards the end of the six weeks 'basic training' (of course the AF has the 'smarts'...why go to 8 weeks or more of boot camp when you can get it over with in just 6?), and it was the weekend. We were relatively 'free' from our TIs, although we did have work to do. The group I was with was assigned to set up a water cannon to spray over a vast expanse of lawn. (Remember, it was August, and HOT, HOT, HOT! Have to keep those AF bases looking green and lush...must continue to make other branches envious). We had the hose hooked up to the hydrant, but couldn't get the water started. I guess only 6 weeks of training wasn't enough to build up our muscles...or else, as women, we were waiting for some of those good-looking Marines to come by and help us! We really enjoyed watching them as they did their PT, blasting "Proud to be an American" on their boomboxes. (Sniff, brings a tear to my eye...patriotism and gorgeous men all wrapped up in one package). Anyway, as we struggled in the heat, a TI from our neighboring flight drove by and saw the problem. So of course he pulls up, parks next to the lawn, and proceeds to come over and chew us out. He then shows us exactly how to get the hydrant opened....it opened alright. But, he forgot to notice that the water cannon was aimed directly at his vehicle....and remember, it was HOT, HOT, HOT, so he had the windows down in his car. The water blasted through one car window at out the other. Thank God I was third generation military....(Granddad was an early Navy pilot on the original aircraft carriers when they still had wooden decks, and Dad was a navigator on the JFK). So I kept my military bearing (i.e. I kept very still, made myself very small, and made NO movement that might be interepreted as the beginning of chuckling, guffawing, or ROFLMAO!) The TI turned off the water as fast as he could. We stood there, fearing the worst. The TI stood there, fists clinched, his face turning red, and then purple. What fate awaited us, what punishment would befall us?????!!!!! Absolutely nothing. The TI ignored us, walked to his car and opened his door. Some water poured out, splashing his feet. He got in and drove away, without looking at us. As soon as he was out of sight, we were ROTFLOAO!!!!!! Had this been the Marines, we still would have been doing push-ups or cleaning latrines or God knows what. I have related this story to my kids, and so far, only one is thinking about the AF (he tends to want to take the easy way out). One other son is thinking about being a Navy pilot, and the third, the toughest, most stubborn of the bunch, wants to become a Marine, of course. I do have a daughter, who doesn't want to join, but then, she's probably thinking about all the men in uniform that her brothers will be around....does anybody know a good convent school I can lock her in until she is about 35? Just kidding. I am proud of ALL the branches of the United States military. (After all, the Marines are just a department of the Navy....the MEN's department!!!! Just kidding, Dad and Granddad. I am proud to have been a Navy brat, proud to have had a brother in the Army, and proud to have been in the Air Force/Texas Air National Guard.)

Thank you for your site, Frank. My husband and I enjoy your humor and intelligence....you would have been an awesome Marine or a kick-ass Navy pilot....and with your viewpoints, Rummy might have chosen you to be his aide and heir....America has really missed out with that.

P.S. Bring back "Nuke the Moon" T-shirts, please, please, please!!!!!!!

Even my mom is nagging me on that one. Well, if all the nagging is any indication, maybe I can sell another batch.

As for the military, I've serious considered joining the Air Force a number of time (when I started college and the National Guard after 9/11) but never went through with it.

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I have a backlog of more to put up, but keep it coming. If you have military experience (first-hand or second-hand) I'd love to hear more jokes and anecdotes. E-mail me with the subject "Military". A big thanks to everyone who has sent in e-mails already.

Our Military III

More about our military...

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John has some Marine jokes:

Marines are commonly refered to as jarheads. I think it is because there heads aren't screwed on straight.

How can you tell if a Marine has been in your backyard? Your trash can is empty and your dog is pregnant.

As far as I know the marines haven't lost a gate yet.

The only good marine is a submarine.

A marine general, an Air Force general, and a Navy Admiral were on a golf course one day arguing who had the most courageous men, so they decided to put it to the test. They went to the marine base and the Marine general walked up to a marine and told him to pull the pin on a grenade and fall on it. The marine did as he was told and was blown up. The Marine general said "Now that took guts". The Air Force general said "That's nothing". They all went to the Air Force base, the Air Force general walked up to an airman told to take a plane up to 30,000 feet and jump out of the plane without a parachute. He did as he was told and promptly became a spot on the ground. The Air Force general said "Now that took guts". The Navy Admiral said "That's nothing". They went to the Navy base and the Admiral took them on an Navy Cruiser. There was a seaman working on an antenna about 200 feet in the air. The Admiral hollered up to the seaman "I want you to jump down here right now!" The seaman hollered back "F_ck you Admiral"! The Admiral looked at the other 2 and said "Now that took guts".

Jason writes:

I did my AIT (advanced individual training) for the Army on a small navel base in Mississippi. We once made them open the only mess hall on base to because we were late getting our training done that day. It took about an hour and call from the base commander to get them to open it. They were not very happy. They also did not like it that we got up at 0400 and made a lot of noise when we went to PT. The Seabees usually got up about 0700.

The moral: the Navy is only open from 0700 to 1700. The Army never closes.

Since Marines are paid by the Department of the Navy, their no better.

I don’t recognize the Air Force as a real armed service division since only their officers do the dying.

Wow, them's fight'n words.

Dennis has some info on tanks:

I was in the Army, served four years, got in the Reserves/Guard and was called up for Gulf War 1. Retired in 99.

I was in Armor, which is the guys that drive, shoot, live in tanks. Being on the ground is dangerous when tanks are moving. And it seems like whenever it is dark, crappy weather, the tanks are moving. So, tankers like to stay on their tanks. It is extremely hard to get run over by a tank if you are on a tank. If I had someone who would bring me chow, I wouldn't have to get off of the tank for any reason.
The ground is where the Infantry lives, and down there it is either muddy or dusty or something uncomfortable. I didn't want to be in the Infantry, so I tried to stay on the tank.

Some truisms about Armor.
1. Nothing on a tank weighs less than a railroad crosstie.
2. When a tank gets stuck in mud, big (huge) cables are needed to get it out.
3. You can learn to sleep on hard, flat steel.
4. Tanks are cold in the winter, hot in the summer.
5. Second Lieutenants shouldn't be trusted with that much destructive power.
6. If a Second Lieutenant finds himself in command of a platoon of tanks, he should listen to his NCO's. They will keep him out of trouble, and will keep him from killing himself or someone else.

The biggest truism about the Army in general and the Guard/Reserve in particular is the unbelievable education of the troops. My last driver was a young corporal who had joined the Guard to get an education. He had his Bachelors degree and was within striking distance of his Masters. We had a medical unit attached to our battalion. There were enlisted medics in that section. All of the enlisted medics were Registered Nurses. One of my NCO's was a practicing attorney, another was a CPA. Fully 60% of the unit was enrolled in college. In short, the guys in the Guard/Reserve take advantage of the educational opportunities, and they make the unit stronger because they are so educated.

J writes:

Each branch serves a special role --

Army -- Exists to lose the territory in the first place.

Air Force -- then overflies the territory to see how deeply the Army took it in the shorts.

Navy -- Provides the boats to carry the...

Marines -- who then take the territory back.

Bob has this little saying about your National Guard:

From one who served in the same unit with GW:

"Sleep Well........Your Guard does!"

Finally, Charles has some info on what it is like to be a Marine and Marine Drill Instructors:

I served 4 outstanding years in the Marine Corps. I can describe the life and times of a Marine, but it's impossible to convey the true experience. The Marines is not a 'job', a 'vocation' or an 'opportunity to see the world', though it offers all these things...it's a way of life, a religion. He is recognizable by his bearing and discipline wherever he goes, even out of uniform. Strangers still ask me, after years as a civilian working for the military, "were you a Marine?" I don't really have any jokes to tell, I served during the Clinton years and I felt I had something important to say about that time.

I went to boot camp at MCRD San Diego, which makes me a 'Hollywood' Marine, There are also Parris Island Marines who went through boot camp in SC near Beaufort. The only difference between us are sand fleas and mountains (trust me, sand fleas are hell...especially when you're not allowed to touch your face or scratch.) which always makes for some friendly jabbing among us (I visited Parris Island with a couple of buddies and remarked on how flat, pretty and green it all was...which set off a wrestling match, they also get to see girls (female marines)). My junior Drill Instructor was once an extra in some skating movie in the 80's, he was the scariest 5' 6" human being I have ever met. I'll have to go on a tangent to describe the DI:

Drill Instructors have special powers granted by a special formula given to them after passing one of the most difficult, anal, and stressful schools in the entire Marine Corps:

1) The ability to camoflage themselves into walls, objects, vehicles and sand dunes, whenever a recruit makes a mistake, approximately 200 DI's will 'uncloak' and simultaneously appear in your location, utilizing their other special powers listed below.

2) DI's can teleport from one location to another in less than a second, often appearing to scream at you from behind walls.

3) The Voice: Many (not all) DI's are capable of screaming in a false, hoarse and unmistakeable voice for several hours, sometimes days. Many learned this skill in Boot Camp themsleves after yelling "AYE, SIR!!!!!!" into the wee hours of the night. This Voice has a strange hypnotizing effect on the victim causing him to instantly obey any command the DI makes, such as "Build Mt. Sirubachi in my squad bay by piling footlockers and throwing mattreses on top!" or "stare at a mirror and tell yourself 'NO, I'm not fat! you are!! and repeat until I get tired!" (yes, both of these really happened)

4) Inability to get dirty. DI's never get dirty, even in a sandstorm a DI will still appear clean and sparkling as if protected by a force field, which it may well be since no recruit has ever laid hands upon a DI and lived to tell about it.

5) Growth. Many DI's are under 6' tall, however they are capable of growing to immense size has their temperature rises. There are others who believe that in fact the recruits shrink instead of the DI's growing, but it may be a combination of both.

6) Telepathy: DI's can read the minds of recruits sensing our fears and thoughts, however this power may not be very strong as recruits constantly surprise the DI's with their stupidity.

7) the ability to see in all directions. It's isn't clear whether there is a 'third eye' or if a DI's normal eyes can revolve around their heads 360 degrees. However they can see any action taking place around them and instantly react.

8) super vision. Besides being able to see in all directions, DI's can spot even the smallest blemish in your uniform, even ameoba and paramecia.

there are many other powers such as 'drink all night, sleep with 3 women and appear completely sober and and angry as hell at 4 in the morning' but I'm running long.

okay, I'll get serious now:

My life in the Marine Corps was the greatest in my life, although I never saw combat, I was always ready to do so, unfortunately a few of my friends have died in combat and training for combat. I was stationed at Cherry Point, NC and many people in the area and in towns around it hated and despised us before 9/11 and the Iraq War. It's as if people didn't care that our lives could end any moment fighting for our freedom. We used to drive up to a college town nearby, Greenville, where the ECU campus is, to have beers and meet women. We'd get laughed at because of our haircuts and the way we'd tuck our shirts in, shave, and dress properly (behind our backs of course). College girls would ignore us or treat us with contempt all the time. The college guys there hated our guts, and knowing we couldn't afford to get in a fight would goad us all the time, key our cars and slash our tires. These people had their hearts and minds poisoned against us, I suspect, by liberal professors and jealousy. Their heroes were their fake warriors such as football players and basketball players. I heard things have improved quite a bit, but I still have to subdue an urge to punch any college prof. I meet. If you're getting that urge right now, please do so.

* * * *

I have a backlog of more to put up, but keep it coming. If you have military experience (first-hand or second-hand) I'd love to hear more jokes and anecdotes. E-mail me with the subject "Military".

Our Military II

Here's some more of what I got. I'll probably be making a regular feature of this because I enjoy it at least.

* * * *

Gregg from Alexandria VA writes:

I thought you might enjoy this description of the Branches of the U.S. Military. In the interest of disclosure, I should tell you that I spent 12 years in the Air Force.

If you ask the Marines to “secure a building”, they will send a squad under cover of darkness who will place explosive charges and blow the building up. They will then report back that the building is secured.

If you ask the Army to “secure a building”, they will send a platoon of soldiers with artillery support who will clear the building and establish a 360 degree cordon around it. They will then report back that the bldg is secured.

If you ask the Navy to “secure a Building” they will send 2 Sailors and a Chief (who will undoubtedly have a cup of coffee in his hand). The Chief will order the two Sailors to turn off the coffee pot, turn off all of the lights and lock the doors to the Building. They will then report back that the building is secure.

If you ask the Air Force to “secure a building” they will get you a 6 year lease with an option to buy.

DNice writes:

Okay Frank, I'll give it a shot for the Army.

I read, with great interest, the ravings of the Air Force puke. What a wuss and a whiner!

By the way, in basic training (NOT BOOT CAMP!!! Basic Training!!!), one of the first things they taught us was not to stand around with our hands in our pockets. Our Drill Instructors referred to this as wearing your Air Force gloves.

I was stationed in southern VA near an Air Force Base, and we did some joint training with them, and I kind of got to know some of them (we'd go to the same church off post, etc.). What Wacky Hermit says is generally true regarding rank and whatnot. But I spent a bit of time on the Air Force Base and I can tell you, while they may not have got the promotions and pay, they had a KICK ASS standard of living. Those places were PLUSH compared to the stinking holes we lived in. And the food at the mess hall!!! Damn they ate good.

Here's a piece of trivia for you. The Army has the largest number of personnel, more boats than the Navy, more aircraft than the Air Force, more brains than the Marines (sorry, I couldn't resist) and the smallest budget of all of the services.

Anyway, if you really want to know what day-to-day life in the Army is like, then watch Platoon. Take out all of the drug stuff (that was WAY
overdone) and they really got it right. The lingo, the uniforms (one of my pet peeves is to see how movies screw up the wearing of uniforms...
insignia all wrong, pinned where they shouldn't be), the way they interacted. It was exact. In fact, they have a scene where the new lieutenant comes through the tent where the enlisted guys are hanging out (doing drugs... DAMN!) and the way he is REALLY uncomfortable and they are making him know he's not one of them... Everyone who's been enlisted in the Army has been in that room, and seen that exact scenario play out. It was priceless.

BTW, I saw that movie in a U.S. Army movie theatre in Erlangen Germany in 1988, and there were still a bunch of Vietnam Vets in our unit that went with us. There was dead silence after it was over and everyone just walked out (kind of like the Passion is doing today). We knew they had got it right.

Also, Basic Training is over rated as being hard. It was hard if you don't like people yelling at you (curiously people from broken homes had a hard time with this... never figured the connection out, but it was pretty universal). It didn't bother me that much. It was 8 weeks of camp for me. When I was going to make Sergeant (E-5) they sent me to the NCO Academy in Kitzingen Germany for 4 weeks of pure hell! THAT was hard. It was WAY worse than basic training! Lights out at 11:00pm and wake up at 3:00am with PT twice a day, and 12 hours of classes in between! FOUR WEEKS! That was the hardest thing I've ever done.

That's it, hope it helps.

Casey writes:

Young and impressionable that is exactly what I was. A walking piece of meat to recruiters. I went into every branche's office. The Navy, well they had the promise of getting me an education and traveling the world, Army was just what everyone was doing, it was packed full of highschool seniors being promised the MOS of Army Ranger, the Air Force had some cute girls signing up (which is a rarity) and well the Marine Corps was empty with just some mean looking Staff Sgt's arm wrestling.......yes sooo stereotypical....sooo me.

No promises of bonus's, education, girls, just the promise of the toughest recruit training in the western hemisphere, hell for the world for that matter. With that In mind I signed over my soul to the United States Marine Corps. I was a decent 18 year old, pretty smart, got along fine with my parents, no legal problems, could of gone to a good college, but no welcome to the school of hard knocks...Known to most has Marine Corps Recruit Depot San Diego.

Yes every red blooded American has seen "Full Metal Jacket" and Most dismiss it has an exagerated horror story.......Au Contrair! While slightly dramatic and exagerated it was pretty damn close. As part of 1st Btn Charlie company Plt 1077, I learned what it took to become a man, then destroyed that mold and became a MARINE. You start off on black sunday when you first meet your drill instructors. The first two to three weeks are the worst. The DI's are always screaming and yelling at you, kicking sand in your face, making the over weight kids dance in their skivies to circus tunes. After the first couple weeks every recruit breaks, whether it just be a small tear to a compelte mental breakdown. The DI's are doing their job. You want to learn, the thought of running into machine gun fire to save your squad sounds like a good idea. Soon the DI's ease up a bit and let the Platoon's police their own. Whether it be a shouting match between squad leaders to a complete bloody brawl. As every Marine Knows, what goes on behind those walls stays behind the walls. After dozens of three mile runs, Island hopping campaigns in the sand box's, and quarter deck sessions; the recruits are ready to head to Camp Pendleton to Edson range where they will learn to become trained killers, they will learn to become one with the M-16A2 service rifle. To most branches the M-16 is a cool "gun", or a "thing" I shot in boot camp. Umm Negative ALPHA ONE...........Every Marine from Female private Admin 01 to Alpha Male Gysgt Scout Sniper 8541 can drop a man size target at 500yds without even thinking about it. After hundreds of rounds sent down range and what seems like humping hundreds of miles around shitty southern California you are ready to graduate. The men that swore at you, made you cry, made you wish you wear wearing that Air Force Bus driver getup, are now your fathers. And when that Senior Drill Instructor hands you the revered Eagle Globe and Anchor. You are eight feet tall, bullet proof, use the F* word as if it is a noun and a adjetive, you are now a United States Marine. You hug your parents your mom crys, your dad says im proud of you son, your friends are now scared of you, but all you want......all you want it to F* the living daylights out of the first girl you see and then do it again and again. And if her boyfriend says anything, you have a new talent to show him, its called the Marine Corps Martial Arts. Time to head home for 10 days till you back at it again.......and then that is where the fun begins.

Fianlly, here are some anecdotes and some jokes from Adela:

This isn't the full description that the other person's was, but...

Her Air Force description was very good. One thing though, concerning the joke, it probably originated as she said, but people tell it using whatever branches suit them. Ex. a Marine will tell it as the Marine being the one who didn't wash because he didn't pee on himself.

The Air Force is the most well-treated branch, and yes, they are known for being the smart branch who does nothing physical. This is mostly true. When the war in Iraq just started, I saw an officer from another branch (I think it was a Marine) being asked a few questions. When the reporter asked how things were going in general, the Marine officer said, "Oh it's getting really serious. So serious in fact, I saw an Air Force officer going to the gym yesterday."

My dad said that when he went to Guantanamo Bay Cuba with the AF the Navy stayed on their ship, the Army and Marines stayed in tents and he stayed in a 5-star hotel.

The Air Force often uses the Army to do their manual labor - cooking food, cleaning, etc. or they hire civilians. I don't know how unusual it is for an AF person to do such a job, but I do know it's not a bit uncommon for them to hire out.

The Air Force has the shortest (and reputedly easiest) boot camp - only 6 weeks.

So, the AF is the smart branch. Marines and Army are dumb and tough. The Navy is known for being the gay branch.

Navy joke, perhaps not family-friendly enough for your site:
Why did the Navy switch to powdered soap?
It takes longer to pick up.

Oh! On AF fighter pilots being egomaniacs - I've heard the same about all fighter pilots, but I have not personally met one. However:
Q: What's the difference between a fighter pilot and a jet engine?
A: A jet engine stops whining when the plane shuts down.

Q: How do you know if there is a fighter pilot at your party?
A: He'll tell you.

Also:

During training exercises, the lieutenant who was driving down a muddy back road encountered another jeep stuck in the mud with a red-faced colonel at the wheel. "Your jeep stuck, sir?" asked the lieutenant as he pulled alongside.

"Nope," replied the colonel, coming over and handing him the keys, "Yours is."

* * * *

Having just moved into his new office, a pompous, new colonel was sitting at his desk when an airman knocked on the door. Conscious of his new position, the colonel quickly picked up the phone, told the airman to enter, then said into the phone, "Yes, General, I'll be seeing him this afternoon and I'll pass along your message. In the meantime, thank you for your good wishes, sir." Feeling as though he had sufficien! tly impressed the young enlisted man, he asked, "What do you want?"

"Nothing important, sir," the airman replied, "I'm just here to hook up your telephone."

* * * *

On some air bases the Air Force is on one side of the field and civilian aircraft use the other side of the field, with the control tower in the middle. One day the tower received a call from an aircraft asking, "What time is it?"

The tower responded, "Who is calling?"

The aircraft replied, "What difference does it make?"

The tower replied "It makes a lot of difference. If it is an American Airlines flight, it is 3 o'clock. If it is an Air Force plane, it is 1500 hours. If it is a Navy aircraft, it is 6 bells. If it is an Army aircraft, the big hand is on the 12 and the little hand is on the 3. If it is a Marine Corps aircraft, it's Thursday afternoon and 120 minutes to "Happy Hour".

* * * *

Officer: "Soldier, do you have change for a dollar?"
Soldier: "Sure, buddy."
Officer: "That's no way to address an officer! Now let's try it again!"
Officer: "Soldier. Do you have change for a dollar?"
Soldier: "No, SIR!"

* * * *

"Well," snarled the tough old Navy Chief to the bewildered Seaman. "I suppose after you get discharged from the Navy, you'll just be waiting for me to die so you can come and urinate on my grave."

"Not me, Chief!" the Seaman replied. "Once I get out of the Navy, I'm never going to stand in line again!"

* * * *

I have a backlog of more to put up, but keep it coming. If you have military experience (first-hand or second-hand) I'd love to hear more jokes and anecdotes (though I doubt anyone can beat Blackfive on military anecdotes - if you never read about his encounter with a French General, do so now). E-mail me with the subject "Military".

Our Military

When I asked for more jokes and descriptions of military branches, I got a ton of responses. I'll print some today and more later.

Ryan writes this about the Navy:

For the Navy, our common stereotypes include:

Submariners:

- called bubbleheads

- are deathly afraid of women (hence no women on submarines)

- wear sneakers instead of uniform shoes

- are deathly afraid of any loud noise

- listen to whales for fun

SEALs:

- are maniacs that like to kill people

- can only talk about killin’, drinkin’ and “the mission”

- all live on Coronado island

Aviators:

- wear brown shoes, and thus think they are cool

- wear flight suits, and thus think they are cool

- wear dark sunglasses, and thus… yeah, see above

- have to get 6 hours of sleep between operations

- get to drive Nuclear Carriers later on, and in general suck very much at driving the carriers

For submarines, a post I found on military.com:

For all you non-quals out there, here's a short primer on submarine life. enjoy.

Obtain a dumpster. Paint it black, weld all the covers shut except one which can be bolted closed from the inside. Hitch it to the back of your wife's mini van. Gather 12 friends and bolt yourselves inside and let your wife pull it around for several weeks while she does the errands.

Sleep on the shelf in your closet. Replace the closet door with a curtain. Six hours after you go to sleep, have your wife whip open the curtain. shine a flashlight in your eyes, and mumble "Sorry, wrong rack".

Don't eat any food that you don't get out of a can or have to add water to.

Paint all the windows on your car black. Drive around town at high speeds with your wife standing up in the sunroof shouting course and speed directions to you.

Renovate your bathroom. Build a wall across the middle of your bathtub and move the shower head down to chest level. When you take showers, make sure you shut off the water while soaping.

Repeat back everything anyone says to you.

Sit in your car for six hours a day with your hands on the wheel and the motor running, but don't go anywhere.

Put lube oil in your humidifier instead of water and set it to "High".

Don't watch T.V. except movies in the middle of the night. Also, have your family vote on which movie to watch, then show a different one. Record The Sound of Music and show it at least every other night.

Don't do your wash at home. Gather your neighbors clothes along with yours, pick the most crowded laundromat you can find, and do the neighborhood laundry in a single washer and dryer. Make sure that 12% of the laundry is lost and 20% of the finished laundry is incorrectly distributed to the wrong neighbor.

Leave lawnmower running in your living room six hours a day for proper noise level. (For Engineering Divisions)

Have the paperboy give you a haircut.

Take hourly readings on your electric and water meters.

Sleep with your dirty laundry.

Invite guests, but don't have enough food for them.

Buy a broken exercise bicycle and strap it down to the floor in your kitchen.

Buy a trash compactor and use it once a week. Store up garbage in the other side of your bathtub.

Wake up every night at midnight and have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on stale bread, if anything. (Optional--canned ravioli, cold soup, or beanie wienies)

Make up your family menu a week ahead of time without looking in your food cabinets or refrigerator.

Set your alarm clock to go off at random times during the night. When it goes off, jump out of bed and get dressed as fast as you can, then run out into your yard and break out the garden hose.

Once a month take every major appliance completely apart and then put them back together.

Use 18 scoops of coffee per pot and allow it to sit for 5 or 6 hours before drinking.

Invite at least 85 people you don't really like to come and visit for a couple of months.

Store your eggs in your garage for two months and then cook a dozen each morning.

Have a fluorescent lamp installed on the bottom of your coffee table and lie under it to read books.

Periodically check your refrigerator compressor for "sound shorts".

Put a complicated lock on your basement door and wear the key on a lanyard around your neck.

Lockwire the lugnuts on your car.

When making cakes, prop up one side of the pan while it is baking. Then spread icing really thick on one side to level off the top.

Every so often, yell "Emergency Deep", run into the kitchen, and sweep all pots/pans/dishes off of the counter onto the floor. Then, yell at your wife for not having the place "stowed for sea".

Put on the headphones from your stereo (don't plug them in). Go and stand in front of your stove. Say (to nobody in particular) "Stove manned and ready". Stand there for 3 or 4 hours. Say (once again to nobody in particular) "Stove secured". Roll up the headphone cord and put them away.

Write a controlled work package to change the oil on your car.

punslinger writes:

Most civilians don't realize how much the standards have been weakened over the last 40 years.

I was in the Navy from 1969 to 1976. At that time you had to be six foot tall to join the Coast Guard.

That's so if your boat sank, you could walk to shore.

Allyn writes:

I am a West Point graduate and did 12 years in the Army, so I know of what I speak ….

We had a saying in the Army that you could get along with the Marines because they were hard core, knew they were hard core, and acted hard core. You could get along with other Army guys because we had it rough (not as hard core as the Marines mind you), knew we had it rough , and acted as if we had it rough . You could get along with the Air Farce (your previous poster talked about a Rivalry, maybe the Air Force considers us a rival, but that is not true in the reverse) because they were in a country club, knew they were in a country club, and acted like they were in a country club. But you could not get along with anyone from the Navy because they were in a country club, thought they had it rough, and acted as if they were hard core.

The example we loved to give was how the services acted during Gulf War I. In the unit I was with, we literally had so little water that we did not get to shower for 32 days straight, instead using a 5 gallon jug a day for 40 men to take whore baths (that is where you wet a rag and scrub your pits and other bits). We slept 20 plus to a tent which was often not even deployed because we hit our next area without enough time to set it up causing us to tie our shelter halves to our vehicles and making improvised lean-tos. We ate only MREs for over 30 days, we put socks around our water bottles, then urinated on them and let the evaporation cool the bottles so the water was not too hot to drink. The marines we met up with had it worse. The Air Force Forward Observer with us who called in air strikes was living in an air conditioned van. The Navy on the other hand, well the Navy was reported in Stars and Stripes as filing grievances with their superiors because the soda fountain on the carrier ran out of carbonation so the drinks were flat. Yes, that really was news reported in the Stars and Stripes, you can only imagine how well it went over with us on the ground.

You gotta love people who know who they are and act accordingly, you can only pity those who are that self delusional.

I know a number of Navy guys who would probably take offense to that.

Anyway, I wouldn't dare speak againt John Kerry's service record having absolutely no record of my own, so I'll let RockyNoggin do it:

OK, Frank J., I want to lay something out that nobody has said because they don't want to hurt feelings.

First, let me say, I'm an Army veteran of the Cold War so I never got shot at or fired a shot at a commie - although I prayed day in and day out for the chance...
otherwise, what's the point of being in the Army?

Second, I respect anyone who served in any branch - they all suck in their own way and we all got/get paid the same no matter what branch.

JFKerry was a squid, OK? He wasn't an Infantry soldier or a Marine or anything bad assed. He rode around in the water in a lil' boat taking shots at villagers on the banks of the river. Sure, it was dangerous work (sometimes the villagers shot back), but it wasn't like that guy was in the bush. His camp is showing pictures of him in OD's, holding an M16 in the jungle - that was probably some hero bullsh*t he had a buddy take.

So, not to diminish the service of any vet, of any branch, but let's be real. Kerry was looking for light duty and he served 4 months of a 12 month tour.
If that guy had gotten shot the f*ug up like your boy Bob Dole (a REAL American hero) then OK, I'd show some respect. But hell, I coulda done what Kerry did - sheez, my wife coulda done what Kerry did.

I know you can find military jokes easily on the web, but what I'm looking for are more personal descriptions and what are the jokes and stereotypes people in the military encounter most often. See that first post for what I'm looking for. Keep e-mailing more to me with the subject "Military".

The Air Force by Wacky Hermit

Here's a description I got of the Air Force from Wacky Hermit of Organic Baby Farm:

A few facts you should be aware of, should you decide to write an Air Force character into the In My World series:

The Air Force, known derisively as the Chair Force, is the branch of service best known for harboring smart people who really don't want to get involved in combat. The minimum ASVAB score for enlisting in the Air Force is the highest of all the services. Except for the small percentage that are fighter pilots, Airmen don't generally go directly into combat situations; instead they provide technical support such as radio communications, repair services, and logistical support. It is also relatively difficult to make rank in the Air Force, compared to other services, but it is easy to get medals. My husband spent eight years in the Air Force and had more medals than stripes. Many Airmen from one unit my hubby was in had a lot of free time when not being deployed, and many got hooked on porn. Thus your stereotypical enlisted Airman is not just a smartass, he's a low-ranking smartass who's just smart enough to resent the bureaucracy that's keeping him down. Of stereotypical servicemen from all the branches, the Airman is the most likely to complain about the food and the boots and the mind-boggling stupidity of his fellow stereotypical servicemen. As for the small percentage who are fighter pilots, they have a reputation for being cocky beyond all reason, and thinking they are God's gift to the world. Plus they are all officers, which means they go to college.

Because the Air Force originated as a branch of the Army (the Army Air Corps) and only became a separate branch after WWII, their strongest rivalry is with the Army. There is an old Air Force joke that goes as follows: an Army guy and an Air Force guy walk into a bathroom and use the urinals. After finishing, the Army guy goes to the sink to wash, while the Air Force guy starts to walk out the door. The Army guy indignantly calls after the Air Force guy, "You know, in the Army they teach us to wash our hands after we use the bathroom!" The Air Force guy says disdainfully, "In the Air Force, they teach us not to pee on our hands!"

True story from the Air Force: my husband spent some time in a unit that worked directly with Army guys. He reports that the Army guys had training manuals that were comic books. One illustration he described showed a bikini-clad woman pointing to a tank and saying, "This is a tank!"

Sounds like the Army need to respond to this one.

By the way, my grandfather on my mother's side served in the Army Air Corps during World War II in a B-17 bomber and then later served in the Air Force when it came about (he was career military).

We civilians would certainly love more descriptions of branches of the military form the horse's mouth, so keep e-mailing them to me. I'll print the best ones.