The Reader Digest has a column called Humor in uniform that I
always enjoy. I got to thinking I'll bet there are some humerous
tales here on the forum? Military or LEO, if you have a humerous
tale, lets hear (or read) it. I'll start with one: March 1952 in
basic training at Lackland AFB. The Sergeant asks if anyone has
a college education. A few guys raised their hands. He selected
two and told them they were needed to ride the garbage truck
that day.

__________________
In Omnia Paratus

Army basic, Feb. 1964: I was one of the fools who raised a hand when the Field First asked about college. Spent the entire 16 weeks in the awkward squad, eating last so that we'd have time to run the PT course and put in a mile or two with our M-14s over our heads during chow time. I was the only guy who gained weight--went from 140 to 175 on all them leftover K-rats. Also reduced my spoken vocabulary by 90%, while acquiring some expressions I'd never heard before.

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de minimus non curat lex

When I was a Peace Officer:

Long story short.

I was assigned the "A" Dorm four-pod dorm as a rover and was working with "Crazy Rios and Fulgum. Rios was P.O, Fulgum was my partner.

After about an hour on our shift--we noticed that for some sudden reason? the inmates wanted to mop the floors in their pods without having to be told. Some even asked for access to the broom/mop closet--which we granted-escorted of course. They wanted the closet to "empty the dirty water from the mop bucket" and get clean water. These mop buckets have a removable portion--and the bucket is like a false bottom. Anyway, from the greatly increased """"""""""cleanliness"""""""""" activity, we deduced that one pod--was getting ""paid off"" by the other three pods. Said pod was getting all-kinds of commissary foods. We fully knew they were going to throw a spread--which would have to take place after 9pm count.

By that time--there was a good pile of spread-food hidden in the closet. We did 9pm count-turned it in-then I went to the food closet armed with tooth powder. I chose a single package of Ramon Noodles-slit it where it wouldn't be discovered--and spiked it with tooth powder. As I was spending a few minutes time in the closet, the inmates of the "spread" pod, lined the windows to see if I discovered their hidden loot.

I came out empty-handed and you could almost hear their sighs of relief. They thought I missed their stash but never occurred to them we fully knew what they planned by 3pm--and had found and spiked their stash.

Slightly after count had cleared, an inmate from that pod, buzzed and asked to get a mop-someone had spilt a can of soda pop on the floor near the restroom. We knew he wasn't really wanting it for that reason, but allowed him to go get his spread stash-hidden in the mop bucket--escorted of coarse.

By abouy 9:30, they had cleaned a table-and were sharing their spread. They were laughing at us because they thought they had got away with breaking the rules-scott free.

Shift change at 10. We left laughing our hinds off.

Next day--Fulgum and I were assigned the same duty same 4-pod building. As I was walking towards the building, I was approached by an inmate from party pod. he was complaining of having a slight case of the runs. Toothpowder is not dangerous at all and can be used as a last resort-to replace baking soda. Anyway, about 10 inmates were slightly affected. Said inmate coming my way-grabbing his tummy-asked about what we did to their food? He said they realized we had toyed with their food, but we all laughed it off as a joke-which backfired on the inmates.

Army Airborne School 1984:

While instructing the class on proper deployment of the reserve chute a student asked the Black Hat "If the static line doesn't deploy the main chute, how much time do we have to deploy our reserve before we hit the ground?" The Black hat replied..."The rest of your life son."

Same Airborne School, while standing in formation awaiting our mandatory safety brief before being released for a four day pass during the Thanksgiving Day holiday. A very irritated Black Hat Walks up on to the PT platform, puts both hands on his hips, looks over the formation like he wants to kill us all, and says "You stupid ***'s don't do a damn thing we tell you to anyway.....SO IF YOUR GONNA DRINK....DRIVE! IF YOU ARE GONNA SWIM.....SWIM ALONE!

the area around Frankfurt really didn't get much snow and maybe there would be 3 inches or so of snow. I left the radio shop to go to the chow hall and get something to eat. I wasn't paying much attention and a car drove by and just drenched me in slush and water and I got really soaked. the car was passed me and out of reflex I gave the car the one finger salute. well the driver must have been looking in the rear view mirror as he stopped and backed up. the driver asked did I know who I gave the salute to and I said probably the person that just drenched me in slush and water. about that instant I happened to noticed the full birds on his shoulders and he noticed how drenched I really was. I had just given the bird to the base commander. he told me to get in the car and I figured I was probably going to jail so once I got in the car he asked me where my barracks was and drove me over there. he said he was sorry for the drenching but also said to watch out how you salute the next time.

When I was on the USS Dwight D. Eisenhower, one of the fellows who ate with us was the NIS agent assigned to the ship. He had been a policeman before working for NIS, and freely admitted that before that he had spent four years in the Air Force. To forestall any harassment, he made it quite clear that his time in the Air Force had been no picnic. In fact, he informed us, the whole time he was in boot camp, he was assigned a roommate that he couldn't get along with, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Cop is patrolling a residential area one day and sees a minivan run a stop sign without even slowing down. He took off after it and caught it in time to see it run the next stop sign without stopping. He turned on his red and blue lights to signal the driver to pull over and stop. It didn't and ran a third stop sign. He turned on his siren and the driver drove through a fourth stop sign before noticing him and finally pulled over.

The cop walked up to the minivan and could see it was a woman. As he passed the side of the van he looked in and saw about eight kids, all under six years of age and none of them in car seats or belted in, just crawling all over each other and the interior.

He got to the window and the driver rolled it down. He said with a slight tone of aggravation, "Lady, don't you know when to stop?

She looked in the back at the kids, then scowled at the cop, "They aren't ALL mine!"

@ 1978, I was in "A" gang on the USS TARAWA and worked on hydraulic systems that operated auxiliary systems like aircraft elevators, anchor windlass's, the ballast system, and the monstrous guillotine style doors that closed off the well-deck. They were poorly designed, as they had to be raised to open them. So if they didn't open, the Leathernecks had to swim.

In charge of this circus was ENC Robert Wiggins, (ENC= Engine-man Chief, E-7 for you land lubbers) Chief was an interesting dude. He was a Black man, who had grown up in the south and had seen a lot of things. By the time my young butt came along, Chief had already been in the Navy for 16 years. He called us "his white boys" and we called him "Chief". He was a hell of a role model.

Another member of the cast was Commander Frank Meyers, the Chief Engineer. (He didn't call us at all, and his nickname was "the Block") CDR. Meyer was a Mustang, an enlisted man who started at the bottom like I did, but worked his tail off to get the education, respect and ability to become a commissioned Officer. (He was later promoted to Captain (=Colonel), a very rare thing)

Remember the big door? Thats where this story starts. A herd, (or group, mob, or gang, your choice) of senior officers had gathered with the Block and he was going to show them the "Big door". After all, he is the Chief Engineer, He ought to be able to open the "door". He walks over to the control panel, pushes the "ON" button, and then the "UP" button. Nothing happens. He repeats, nothing happens. He applies verbal motivation and tries again. Nothing. And thats when I wander in.

Standing in the little control room, were 2 Admirals, a Rear and a Vice, our Captain, a Marine Brigadier, Marine Colonel and all had various aides, and the Block. Oh yeah, and me. The Block looks at me, with venom dripping from his fangs, and tells me (and this is a quote) "You find Wiggins and tell him to get his black *** down here right now!!". So, in a skill I developed while in the Navy, I evaporated out of the room.

Chief was in the Chiefs Locker, eating dinner. After passing the necessary screening process to gain entry, I delivered the Blocks message. "He said that, did he?" asks the Chief. "Yes Chief", says I. He was eating fried chicken and he picked up the bones, wrapped them in his handkerchief, and he proceeded to the Door. Along the way Chief stops at a large electrical buss and flips a switch.

We arrive in the control room and Chief walks to the middle of the room. The Block is still administering verbal enhancements. (I'm trying to evaporate, but I'm not a master yet.) The Stars and Brass are circling. So Chief kneels down in the middle and un-wraps his hanky. He picks up the chicken bones and shakes them then throws then on the floor better than any voodoo priest could have done. He picks them up again, shakes and throws them out again. Not a word is now being spoken by anyone. He gets up and walks to the controller. "ON" button. "UP" button. Big Door starts to open.

Chief walks right through the middle of them, still in dead silence. He turns to me and says "Son, get my bones".

Every word of the above actually happened as I have described.

__________________
James L. "Jim" Rhiner

I would not swear to the complete truth of this story, but in February
1953 I wrote a letter to my folks: Dear folks I can't tell you where I am
but yesterday I shot a polar Bear. About 2 weeks later another letter:
Dear folks I still can't tell you where I am, but last night I danced with
a Hula Girl. About 10 days later another letter: Dear folks I went to
the Doctor this morning. He told me I should have danced with the
polar bear and shot the Hula Girl.

__________________
In Omnia Paratus

One of Alabama's finest state troopers pulled over a motorist for speeding. When he told the motorist why he pulled him over, the motorist started complaining about all the other cars that were going as fast as he was.

The trooper asked the motorist if he ever went fishing. The motorist said "Well yeah, why?". The trooper then asked: "Did you catch all the fish?".

That ended the discussion.

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So many S&W's, so few funds!!

When I was in Airborne school, we had just started and none of us had any experience. One of the guys kept bragging that he was going to be the first one of us to be Airborne. After a while we got tired of his bragging so a group of guys got together to fulfill his wishes. They threw him out of the second story window so he was the first to go Airborne. Luckily he didn't break anything and I think he got the hint as he didn't brag anymore and turned out to be a pretty good soldier.

Don't know if it's true but makes a good story.
Billy Bob was sent to navigator school in the airforce. After barely graduating he was assigned to a bomber piloted by an much older fellow. Upon boarding the aircraft the pilot takes his weapon out of his holster and sets it next to him. He asks BB if he knows what its for? BB says no. The pilot says its for navigators who get him lost. BB takes his gun out and puts it on the navigators table. The pilot asks whats that for? BB says to tell the truth sir I'll know we're lost before you do.

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Well done > well said

I was never in the service, but I used to read RD religiously and 'Humor in Uniform' was a section I went to first.

I remember one story where an officer was caught naked, chasing a young woman around the tennis courts. They were going to court martial him for being out of uniform until somebody pointed out the regulation stating that said that you may be dressed appropriately for the activity you are engaged in.

Another old cop story (stop me if you've already heard this):

Cop sees a motorist "incomplete stop" at a stop sigh and pulled him over. Upon telling the motorist why he stopped him, the motorist said, "I slowed down, what's the difference?"

Cop grabs him by the shirt collar and pulls him half out of the car then proceeds to rhythmically thump the guy on his melon with his nightstick.

"Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump..."

This goes on for about a minute and then the cop says, "Okay, do you want me to slow down or stop?"

The Tarawa chicken bones story likely will win this thread. If I may risk a bad joke, "Winner! Winner! Chicken dinner!"

I was the CMC of a unit that worked out of Earl, N.J. ammo Depot.
I was in charge of the office personal plus other duties.
The woman YN's pulled a good one on me.
They talked one of my EN2's who was black to be in the office and as the CO came in, he fell to his knee's crying "Don't beat me anymore Master!"

The CO did call me into his office for a talk......

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Only difference Fool/Mule-ears

First day at jump school the student was told you have your primary
chute and you will have a reserve chute in case the primary doesn't
open. When you get to the ground you will see a truck waiting to take
you back to base. He jumped. First chute did not open. Then the
reserve chute didn't open. He cussed. I'll just bet that damn truck
won't be there either.

__________________
In Omnia Paratus

Another paratrooper story I think I read in RD.
When the troopers jumped they would yell Geranamo!
An author wrote a story about paratroopers on his computer and
used spell checker. When the story came out the trooper jumped
and yelled Geranium!

__________________
In Omnia Paratus

Christmas time 1955 I was S/Sgt on duty at Arlington Hall ( NSA). Our
shift OIC was an Air Force Captain. He had an assistant, a cute little
Navy Wave. When she walked by she would always give me smile.
I finally got the courage to ask for a date. We went to a movie. I was a
perfect gentleman.
About a week later one of the senior officials had a Christmas party at
his home. She was there. After a few adult beverages, she and I went
out to the back seat of the car and got better acquainted.
Next morning I am told the Captain wants me in his office ASAP. Oh Oh!
I was worried, but as it turned out, he only wanted to offer me a hangover
remedy. Nice guy!

__________________
In Omnia Paratus

That hits pretty close to home for me. When I was stationed at Lowry AFB, CO (Denver), we had a very attractive female 1st Lt. She was such a cutie that she got away with a lot of things, including having talked a number of us Air Police out of writing her tickets for not renewing her car's base registration. I think I personally warned her three times...

Alas, she had a few too many one night and was caught by a stern senior officer while doing a striptease behind the officer's club. She left the USAF soon after, although I never knew for sure what sort of discharge she got.

This was a little embarrassing for me, as she had the same last name as mine. I was sometimes asked if we were related, as the name is not terribly common . Naturally, I said that we were no relation, but that I'd sure like to have "relations" with her.

Anyway, I remembered her name very well. A few years later, I saw her (?) photo on the back of a book written by a woman of the same name, who looked very like her. I also have seen this woman on TV. She writes/wrote self help books telling women how to have better lives and less stress and more tranquility. Also gives/gave lectures. Probably retired now; this was in the 1960's.

Whenever I see a book by her, I wonder if she's the same M. that I knew in Denver.

Middle age guy driving his brand new "mid-life crisis" Porsche on the expressway looks up to see flashing lights in his rear view mirror. Looking back at his speedometer, he notes he's more than 10 mph over the limit. The inner child pops out for a minute thinking: "I can out run this guy", and he tromps on the throttle. The Porsche leaps off like a scalded cat, leaving the patrol car in the dust. Suddenly the inner child is replaced by the responsible adult and he realizes the futility in his actions, especially if the cop had his license plate number, so he slows down and pulls off the side of the road and waits for the officer.

When the officer approaches the car, he asks the driver why he suddenly took off when he spotted the police car in his rear view mirror. The man tells the officer that 6 months ago, his wife had left him for a policeman. The officer looks quizzical and says "so?". The man says: "For a moment, I thought you were bringing her back."

He got off with a warning.

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So many S&W's, so few funds!!

My old friend Bill (who became editor of Texas Monthly back when it was readable) graduated from Cambridge,(correction: it was Oxford) and was given his draft notice. Nonplussed, he said he wasn't about to let the Army draft HIM....so he joined the USMC. (and off to RVN he went, two tours)
I asked if there were a lot of Oxford grads in his outfit, Bill said "Nah, mostly doctors and lawyers."


Bill is still a pretty funny guy, he wrote the screenplay for Apollo 13, Castaway and some other stuff...

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Halfway and one more step

About a week or so into Marine Corps boot camp the kill Sargent (the one who acts like he is always ready to kill you) announces that there has been a mistake and there are too many recruits in the Marine Corps. He needs 6 volunteers to go transfer to the Navy. A bunch of morons immediately shot up their hands to transfer. They were cursed diligently and given extra motivation exercises until they professed the proper love for his USMC.

Once we made it to the rifle range things relaxed just a little bit. One Sunday during "free time" we we're outside sitting around doing minor things like cleaning rifles and polishing boots, brass and etc. Pvt. Hughes was a bit of a screw up and wasn't pay attention and walked into the head DI. Shortly he had his M14 held palms up at arms length in front of him while the DI asked him the weight of his rifle. After repeating this question and answering correctly several time the DI proceeded to hang small items from the rifle. Hughes was trembling under the strain as he was asked again and again the weight. Finally the DI placed his Smokey Bear cover in the center of the rifle which Hughes knew he dare not drop. When asked how much it weight now? Hughes responded 14 tons, Sir. The DI laughed, took his hat and walked away.

After completing the rifle range portion of boot camp we went to the Naval base at San Diego to give blood. While line up in formation outside the clinic a very good looking Lady Naval officer walked by. None of us had seen a woman for months and eyes front was suffering. The DI yelled " OK, everybody look, everybody." Know it was crude, but hey what ya going to do. Man did she speed up her walk.

Inside the clinic, one guy goes I am going to get out. I have a plan. The young naval officer Dr was asking all kinds of questions as your turn come. When the guy with the plan was up and the question of drug use was asked. He replied "I smoked a lot of pot in college" The Dr never even looked up as he said "Perfectly normal" LOL
Then after giving blood a miracle occurred and we were allowed to basically roam free for about an hour. Our first real freedom in over 2 months. Phone calls, a quick snack. Then form up and back to the recruit depot. After marching back to out area, the Di had us at attention in formation and then ordered us to unblouse our utility trousers. Marines keep the bottom of their trousers neatly bunch at the top of their boots with small elastic bands with hooks. Once unblouse he marched us off, leaving a trail of "pogey bait" IE candy bars and the like as we marched away. LOL Bet their was 50# of the stuff.

Coast Guard OCS, Hell Week.

My fellow OC gets caught by one of the training officers out in the passageway and has to drop and give him twenty. He pumps them out, then properly asks, "Permission to recover, SIR!"

"Permission granted."

"Thank you, SIR!"

"Thank you? THANK YOU? Did you enjoy that? Then give me twenty more!!!"

Note to self: Forget being courteous....

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Ukraine -- now more than ever

When I was stationed at Webb AFB, TX, I was on base patrol on midnights. I was parked by a road with a stop sign on each side of the intersection. A vehicle rolls up to the intersection, ignores the stop sign and drives through. Once through the intersection, he spots me sitting there in my patrol vehicle and immediately stopped, back up through the intersection, stopped at the stop sign, and then proceeded through the intersection once more. I was laughing too hard to stop him and let him go.
He was more than likely a butter bar (2nd Lt.) stationed there for pilot training.

Bill your story reminds me of a time I was enroute to Las Vegas.
I went through Ely, Nevada and a few miles out of town realized
I was on the wrong highway. I turned around and was boiling along
probably 20 over the limit. Went around a curve, and there is a cop
in his car facing me, parked in a gravel area just off the road. I
slowed down real fast, and pulled up beside him and raised my hands
in surrender. (I knew He had me). He laughed, warned me, and let
me go. Humor sometimes works.

__________________
In Omnia Paratus

1955 I was also at AHS, made friends w a gal in processing who had seen my resume and came after me. We usually went down rte 50 cpl mi west to do our thing. That was when I was able to pull rank on the CO. My immediate supervisor at work was a marine Capt who outranked the poor Army CO, so when I failed to insure the laundry apply my name to my uniform, I was brought before him and only got a speech instead of real discipline....then we went to FGGM to finish out tour in 1958

Now in Marine boot camp every NCO you come in contact with is a instructor or DI. The private WILL address this gentlemen as SIR:
After graduation Marines go to Infantry Training Regiment. ITR. While waiting for my unit to form I was assigned to a small supply depot ran by a First Sergent. On reporting I addressed him as sir; WHOA, after the "conversation" from him I never addressed another NCO as sir. I made NCO myself and to this day I don't like to be addressed as sir. I am not an officer and enlisted Marines take an odd pride in that. Even most Mustangs (Enlisted who become officers) don't like it much. As explained to me, it doesn't take a college degree or an act of Congress making you a "officer and a gentleman" to kill the enemy and that is a Marines primary function. The officers may decide what is supposed to happen, the NCOs decide what will happen and make it so.

Speaking of sir. In boot camp we went to the swimming pool to learn how to Drown proof. Everybody goes in the water except DIs, whether the private can swim or not. Jump in or get shoved in. One guy starts flailing away screaming help help. DI come over and prods him with a pole and screams IT'S HELP SIR, YOU MAGGOT.

Told this story before. It's Fall 1970, I'm serving out my hitch at Indiantown Gap Military Res. which is a Reserve/NG training center. Pulling black helmet liner duty on night shift, (7p-7a). A green VW bug with four girls flags me down, asks about a unit from Philly. I tell them where the unit is, give directions. They head over there, I continue patrol. Fast forward to about 2330. Get a report from the on-post pizza joint, a unit's giving their guy a bad time. Yours truly gets the run. Turns out it's the same Philly unit I'd directed the girls to earlier. I roll up, all the lights are on, a lot of activity for that time of night. I call for back-up, when it gets there, we move in. These are WWII era barracks. All the bunks, foot & wall lockers are moved out. The place was decorated for a Halloween party. And right there in the middle of the floor was the green VW I'd encountered earlier. The double service doors were removed, used as ramps. There was booze and unsecured weapons all over the place. Several guys were upstairs, sleeping it off. We collected everything including the drunks and the girls who finally came out of hiding. The girl who owned the car was married, but not to anyone at the party. I expect she had some splainin to do when she got home. I thought it was a hoot till, as the first on the scene, I had to make out a pile of reports. It would've been a primo opportunity to abscond with an M1 Garand and/or a 1911, but being the good cop I was, they were all turned in and documented.

While I was in the Caribbean skippering a sportfish boat, I had a guest of the owner, and he was a retired US Army Captain. (I personally dislike anyone calling me "Captain", cause I'm just a guy that drives a boat, okay?)
My new deckhand arrived from Florida, came down to the boat and my guest and I met him. When he greeted me "Hi, Captain" I said ( in my stern voice) "Don't call me Captain. This man here IS a real Captain." indicating to my guest. My new crew said "nice to meet you, sir" and the retired Army gent said "Nice to meet you son...and uh, you don't have to call me captain, just don't call me "dude"."

__________________
Halfway and one more step

After Basic, I attended eight weeks of Air Police School at Lackland AFB, TX. Passed out second man in a large class and was cited for academic achievement. I still have that laudatory document here somewhere.

But some of the exam questions left a bit to be desired. One asked where the patrolman parked his car on stopping an offender.

Would you park:

1.In front of the other vehicle
2.) to the side of it.
3.)To the rear of it, or
4) behind the offender's vehicle?

I didn't know if it was behind it or to the rear of it, but No. 3 sounded more formal, so I marked that and got it right.

Vireya from what you said it seems we in the same place at about the
same time. I was quartered at Suitland Hall and a bus took us to AHS
every day. In 1955 NSA meant "no such agency".

__________________
In Omnia Paratus

Every shift at DaNang had to inspect their assigned fuel trucks before tackling the flight line. Engines, PTO's, gauges and hoses all must be in working order. Hoses must be unreeled and pressurized.

Whoever did this the fastest got their choice of assignments so, as young gristle heads, we would run with the hose knowing when to stop as we were all familiar with the hose length.

I overlooked the back-in-service tag on the shifter. Maintenance was out of replacement canvas hoses so they cut 10' of bad hose out to keep the truck in service.

You guessed it.

I took off running with that hose and hit the end like Barnyard Dawg at the end of his leash going after Foghorn.

The entire outfit saw it.

I ended up with a dislocated shoulder and the nickname "Barnyard".

__________________
Music/Sports/Beer fan

I served on a WW2 Destroyer which was older than I was ,and it was a very rough riding old "Tin Can". I worked in the after engine room which had a perpetual oil vapor haze hanging in the air and it never cleared up. The vapor was the result of a Kamikaze hit at Okinawa which killed a lot of good Sailors and went all the way down into the ship where the bomb exploded and bent the keel . It was never properly repaired and made the aft eng room thrust bearing run extremely hot , enough to vaporize the lube/cooling oil. Between true sea sickness and the oil haze I got into a real bad state- so much so I found out much later they were actually considering transferring me off of the ship for my health.
I never missed a watch and always did my duty through it , but one day I was heaving my guts out over the rail , when this Chief comes up to me and says:
" Son if you feel something fuzzy coming up" . swallow quick, its your A** H***"
They moved me to the forward engine room which did not suffer the oil haze and I eventually learned to manage the Mal De Mare and became a reasonably decent crew member.

This one was a little different and REALLY old:

They told the trainee to jump out of the plane yelling 'Geronimo' and pull his ripcord. When they landed the plane he was still hanging on the fuselage. They asked him why he didn't open his chute and he asked, "What was that Indian's name, again?"

Never divulge to much info. When going in they test you. Then they ask what grade attended and classes. I said 13, Biology, chemistry, and zoology in college with premed major.

Going in I asked for electronics, it was supposed to be guaranteed. The "job placement: NCO towards the end when we found out which secondary school we might attend gave me 3 choices, Medic, medic, medic.

Years later I am a reserve Deputy, our town had a cheers type bar, laid back, lawyers and Dr's would come in, teachers parked out back and snuck in. Quiet, peaceful and food was served until 7 PM and no kids after that.

Once in a while I'd go by on a Fri or Sat and have a beer with my school teacher Sister, my working Bro and friends.

The lady that ran it grew up with my Bro's wife and the owners Bro and I knew each other since 1st grade. Close ties.

If I was there and any issues came up she'd yell Duane! One night we heard a big crash, the sound of glass breaking and DUANEEEE!

I ran to the front, on the floor lay a shattered and broken antique gumball machine that belonged to her grandpa. The machine was actually her fondest piece on the place.

She was behind the counter, on the customer side were 3 tall young gentlemen. She carded them before she would let them order a beer. # 3 was only 19. He started to argue. While flailing his arms and telling her he was an important MP on the base he hit the gumball machine.

She told me what happened, I told # 3 to stand pat, the PD boys will be here in a few. He will have to somehow pay for the machine and whatever the PD hangs on him. He says I know my rights I can drink on base, well sir you are not on base.

Now he gets very argumentative, I'm guessing other bars had not carded them and he's had one too many.

The MP's get notified quickly when a soldier is arrested. They work there, their CO is not gonna be happy.

The 2 legal age boys back to the front door and hold it open, I know they are going to say run for it to #3. I get between #3 and the door, when he flies to the door I took him over my hip and face planted him.

The only difference between this joint and Cheers is, lots of local guys who work construction are there. They smell FIGHT, one of them makes a dash towards the 2 at the door, telegraphs his intent and when he went airborne to kick one the guy stepped aside and the construction worker flew the door feet first. He came down funy on the sidewalk, we heard his arm snap as it broke.

I told 2 guys to keep #3 on the floor and got between the 2 Legal Mp's and the mob, I had the 2 assume the position against the wall.

The PD showed up in force at this moment. A local is in agony rolling around on the sidewalk moaning little things like I think I broke my arm. His friends are trying to comfort him. I told the PD what happened, the 2 Legals did nothing wrong and can walk, #3 has to go to jail until he pays for the damage or be charged.

What about the guy on the sidewalk squealing? I said he just flew into town and had a bad landing. His buds are gonna take him to the ER.

Ole #3's buds had to explain all to the Company commander, his friends took up a donation to get him out of jail.

The owner found a antique gumball machine somewhere. It was kept on the shelf behind her, not next to the cash register.

I was awarded a free draft by the owner for service above and beyond.

I new an old cop his favorite story was finding a drunk passed out in the driver's seat. The cop would jog in place, knock on the window and yell pull over. He said the reactions were priceless, I can only imagine.

My son joined the USMC.

He found a DI with a big heart and thought he had it made.

I was still married to my ex at this time, she was a joy, she would spend the kids birthday money on scratch cards , etc. She was not on my account due to ink pen and blank checks that did not stay blank long in her possession.

My son had a relatively new midsize Pontiac as his only payment. Then he could not do direct deposit and get it paid without touching it. His mother nagged him into letting her manage his money while he was in boot, and she was to make the car payment, mistake # 2 was getting her signature on his account. I would have done it right, either of his 2 grandmothers would have done it right. His mother, who he and his sisters begged me to divorce, spent every dime while he was in boot and did not make one payment.

I came home one day and his car was gone. Where is it? I asked. She said bank error, shed take care of it, I knew better. I told her she needed to write our son and tell him now.

Mail call was right at lights out, he was lucky in having a window next to a street light, probably did not feel lucky reading that letter.

He was laying there crying, not so much for the car but what his mother did. The DI, who my son said was the meanest one they saw came by, probably did every night watching for guys that got a dear John letter.

My son said he came up and told him mail call was over, put it up and go to sleep. My son was crying hard, and he is one tough knot, never ever tell him you know he cried, might not be good for some body, The DI heard the SOBs and said bad news? Girl leave you? My son was sobbing too hard to talk, he handed the DI the letter. The DI said this is bad, no mother should ever do this to her son. The DI patted him on the shoulder and said tomorrow morning I will lend you the money and we will get your car back. Son said it's already been sold and is gone. They should have gone to get his checks held but did not.

The DI shows his fatherly human side. My son said well at least I now have a friend and the rest of boot will go better.

The next morning son was a tad slow on something, not normally a getting yelled at offense. He said his dreams of easy street died quickly. The DI was in is face and gave him double push ups. He figured out it was a lesson of, you saw my human side and now I'm gonna wipe your memory clean.

We were in Di-An village, South Vietnam. The USO was off post, in the village. While there, a kid stole a watch right off a G.I.'s wrist, (never wear an expansion band, they break). These villages are like corn mazes, but one of our guys decides to pursue on foot. He chases this kid, turns a corner and runs right into the village cesspool. Now this guy always looked sharp, like he stepped off a recruiting poster. We pull him out and he's covered head to toe with you-know-what. We flipped a coin to see who drove him back to base camp, as he was getting ranker by the second in that climate. It became known as the day our guy, who shall remain anonymus, jumped in everybody's excrement.

While collecting a witness statement I had a lady ask me how to spell, "CD." Honest.

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Join the NRA today

We were steaming along about 0030 after the watches had been relieved and eating midrats. Along comes some airdales and they start yelling "snipes sxxk" what they didn't know was the Chief Engineer Capt Davis was eating mid rats with the off going watch. There has always been a rivalry between ships company and the air wing. So someone gets their names and Capt Davis says to report to the master at arms 0800 that day. I'n down in #1 engineroom and the Chief tells me there are some extra duty guys at the master at arms shack. I go up there and all of them are there in their nice starched chambray shirts and bell bottoms. I get three off the list and back down to the hole. Chief assigns them to clean out the contaminated tank worst job in the engineroom. Guys dump the coffee grinds in it, pee in it and sometimes upchuck in it. They are handed a big bale of rags and told to wipe it down. this lasts about 3 hours and their nice starched uniforms?? all covered with lubricating oil, fuel oil, and other assorted stuff. Just before they get dismissed the Chief comes down and says"bet you won't say snipes sxxk" next time your in the mess decks. End of story. Frank

It's a wonder none of them added to the puke!!!

Speaking of Airedales: 1970, Primary Fligth training, NAS Sofely Field FL. Not far from NAS Pensacola. A Student aviator (AOC) is out with an instructor in a T34B ( kind of a military Beechcraft Bonanza with tandem seating and conventional tail) doing a "12" check. This is a check flight to qualify for your first solo. They're doing touch-n-goes at OLF Silverhill in southern AL. After doing a number of successful take offs and landings the instructor has the student make a full stop landing, telling him he's good for a solo hop, meaning a solo touch and go. The instructor gets out of the back seat ( you fly solo from the front seat in this acft), and slaps the student on the shoulder with an encouraging " Go get 'em, Tirger!" . The instructor watches as the student pulls up to the duty runway, does his checks and then guns the engine. Good takeoff, levels out at 500ft and raises his flaps and landing gear. WTH! Then, instead of turning downwind for another touch and go, he starts to climb out and exits the pattern. The student flys back to Sofely Field, lands and parks the acft, signs off the flight and heads to his quarters. Meanwhile, the instructor is now stranded at a secondly field with no facilities or communications - this was long before cell phones. There is not another acft in the pattern, on the ground or anywhere in the sky. He's stuck waiting on the roving crash truck that services the outlying fields to come by and give him a ride back to base. Needless to say, when the instructor got back to base, he had a very indepth meeting with this student that lasted well into the night.

__________________
"Your other right........."

Hey Tex, Star is a great name, aint it?

model70hunter
The Air Force always gave us 3 choices, what school, where overseas,
next duty location, etc. etc. Then they would send us anywhere they
wanted.

__________________
In Omnia Paratus

Fall, 1977, and I was assigned to a field hospital unit at Fort Leonard Wood, MO. We had to play army and go to the field for a couple of weeks, dress in fatigues, wear our steel pots, carry our rifles (M-16A1), etc. We had been in the field for about a week and a half, when the noontime meal was prepared and served. Oh joy...beanies and weenies (hot dog weenies in pork and beans). Okay, not the greatest chow, but it was better than "C" rations. Uh, not so fast, it seems the weenies had turned a really funky shade of green, and no one wanted to eat them.

The Colonel called the Head Cook out to explain, and the Cook explained that he had checked with the Head Food Inspector (a Veterinary officer), and the Vet had indicated that while not pleasant looking, the food was perfectly safe for human consumption (the color was due to a harmless bacteria reacting to the preservatives in the hot dog weenies and the hot water they were cooked in). The Colonel had the Vet take the stage and explain this to the troops. No dice, no one wanted to chance the green weenies. The Colonel then asked the Vet to eat the weenies in front of the troops to demonstrate they were okay. No dice, the young Captain bravely brought the green weenie to his mouth, but could not make himself eat the durn things.

The Colonel then called for the Chaplain, and once he arrived, he asked the Padre to bless the food. After doing so, there were still no takers for the green weenies. The Colonel then invited the Padre to sample the weenies to prove to the troops that the chow was good. The Padre politely declined on the grounds of religious reasons. The Colonel looked at the green weenies on the plate in front of him, and you could see he was planning on eating the weenies himself, in front of the troops, like a good commander should. Though he tried, he just couldn't make himself do it - those weenies really looked like hell.

Finally, the Colonel looked out at the assembled troops, pointed his finger at me and said: "Sergeant! Get me a deuce and a half (truck) and 8 men for a special mission." I grabbed the truck and 8 guys who weren't fast enough, or smart enough to get away, and reported back to the Colonel.

He climbed into the cab of the truck, and ordered us to drive off base to the nearest McDonald's. Once there, we got out of the truck, entered the restaurant, and he proceeded to order enough Big Macs, cheeseburgers and fries for the entire unit. We stood there dressed in full combat gear and carrying our (unloaded) weapons until the food was ready. When the manager asked the Colonel how he was going to pay for the food, the Colonel looked over his shoulder at us, then back at the manager and said: "Pay for it? Why son, we're just going to take it!" I thought the manager was going to pee his pants, and then the Colonel grinned and fished his credit card out of his wallet and paid for the entire meal.

Needless to say, the Colonel was everyone's hero for quite a while, and the event took on legendary status. Those that hadn't been in the field at that time wished they had, and often tried to lie and say they had been there, but they knew better, as did those who were actually there. War maybe hell, but so is the peacetime army.

Regards,

Dave

Yep, we were told if we finished in the top 10% of our Air Rescue class we could pick our duty station, I did and chose West (anywhere).. They obliged and sent me to Vietnam (Really West)..

On patrol one day I was driving through a local park and observed two guys outside their car. As I drove towards them, one walks to the trash can and back to the car. I talked to them and then checked the trash can. Nothing in the can but a LARGE baggie of marijuana and pack of rolling papers. No way to prove it was theirs, I took the baggie and papers and placed them above the sun visor of my patrol car to take it back to station later and dump out in the flower beds (like we all did, hoping it would grow). Later (it was beginning to rain)I stopped a young female for minor traffic offense and as she was fumbling through her purse I spotted a baggie with very small amount of marijuana. I reached in and secured the marijuana and had her exit her car and have a seat in front of my patrol car (was beginning to rain). As I was giving her the "lecture" on evils of marijuana, I explained if she was going to smoke it, she needed to be more careful and hide it better. She smiled at me and glanced up at my sun visor stating, "you don't have yours hidden very good". She got a warning ticket for the traffic offense.

Now that's a GREAT story!!!

That was a major OOPPSS!!!