Humor in Uniform Read online

  — DEBORAH FRANK

  Shortly after joining the Army, I was in line with some other inductees when the sergeant stepped forward with that day’s assignments. After handing over various tasks, he asked, “Does anyone here have experience with radio communications?” A longtime ham operator, I shouted, “I do!” “Good,” he said. “You can dig the hole for the new telephone pole.”

  — DON KETCHUM

  One month into Marine Corps training in San Diego, Calif., we were preparing for a ten-mile march in 100-degree weather when a jeep drove up with a large radio in the back. “Who knows anything about radios?” our drill instructor asked. Several hands went up, and anticipating a ride in the jeep, recruits began listing their credentials. Everything from a degree in communications to a part-time job in a repair shop was declared. The DI listened to all the contenders, then pointed to the most qualified. “You,” he barked. “Carry the radio.”

  — JIM SAPAUGH

  After a grueling day of training, which had included a ten-mile hike and completion of a difficult obstacle course, my son Eric’s platoon of raw recruits quickly fell into bed. As Eric lay in the dark, he heard a voice recite a prayer: “Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep, if I should die before I wake, thank you, Lord.” There was a brief pause and then several voices said in unison, “Amen.”

  — ROBERT MOORE

  At the Front

  As if being sent off to war-torn Somalia in the ’90s weren’t nerve-racking enough, there were also the bugs. “Sergeant,” I called out during our orientation briefing, “is there a problem with scorpions here?” “No need to worry about scorpions, Captain,” he assured me. “There are enough snakes around to eat most of them.”

  — CAPT. M. A. NIXON

  In the final days before our massive ground attack on Iraq in Operation Desert Storm, my tank company was moved to a position 15 to 20 kilometers from the Iraqi border. It was a very flat, open area that left us vulnerable to Scud missile attacks. Therefore, every evening we repositioned one kilometer to make targeting more difficult. It meant tearing down tents, camouflage nets, communications gear, barbed wire and more, only to reassemble it ten minutes later in a new location. Since we had other units to our south, east, and west, the only direction we could move was north, closer to the border. As a young company commander, I knew that my soldiers hated this routine. One day I asked a small group of soldiers if they understood why we relocated every night. “Yes, sir,” came the confident reply of one soldier. “We’re sneaking up on them!”

  — DAVID C. STADER

  As we drove our refueling truck through a heavily bombed-out area of Iraq, I spotted an unexploded shell in the middle of the road. “Look out!” I yelled to my friend who was driving. But he wasn’t the least bit concerned. “Don’t worry,” he said. “It’s one of ours.”

  — SHAD ALEXANDER

  During the Persian Gulf War, my Marine Corps unit had to dig new foxholes every time we changed positions. Once, when a private was making his trench, he complained to our sergeant, “Why do we have to do this stupid digging?” Then there was a loud explosion a hundred feet away. “What was that?” asked the private. “That,” replied the sergeant, “is called incentive.”

  — MICHAEL MERRELL

  Our daily routine aboard the USS Trenton off the Somali coast, transporting Marines and their cargo to and from shore, was disrupted by a visit from an admiral. I was in charge of the ensign, a huge, 30-by-50-foot American flag. After the admiral gave his speech and left, the ensign was to be lowered. I had folded our national flag many times, but never one of this immense size. Fortunately, a group of Marines nearby was quick to help. One of them, Ramirez, immediately took charge, showing great pride with every meticulous fold. “Where did you master the art of folding a flag this size?” I asked. “Are you on a special flag detail?” “Actually,” said Ramirez, “I learned this while working at McDonald’s.”

  — SAM RICKABAUGH

  * * *

  Western Iraq is a dangerous place, so the arrival of my flak jacket was a welcome sight. What was less welcome was the sight of these words someone had written on the ceramic plates that made up the inside of the jacket: “Fragile! Handle with Care.”

  — NIC EVANSO

  * * *

  A few years ago I worked as a radio operator with the Second Infantry Division in Korea. Traffic over the radio came fast and furious, and it became apparent early on that handling it all was a special skill. During one particularly hectic day I took a break and walked past another unit, where an operator calmly manned three radios while flawlessly taking down messages. Later I ran into the soldier and remarked how impressed I was with his cool efficiency. “What’s your secret?” I asked. “I had training as a civilian,” he responded. “I worked the McDonald’s drive-through.”

  — GREGORY LIPE

  Morale Building

  Serving in Afghanistan is, as might be expected, very stressful. So another soldier and I built a horseshoe pit to help ease the tension. When our sergeant came by to play, everything was in place except for one thing. “Aren’t you going to put in the stakes?” he asked. “Nope,” I answered. “Fine, I’ll do it myself.” “Okay,” I said. “But remember, this is one of the most heavily land-mined countries in the world.” “You’re right!” he said, gingerly stepping out of the pit. “I’ll get the new lieutenant.”

  — JASON GARDNER

  Our division had to repaint our Humvees to a sand color for Desert Storm. The result was a pinkish hue, and the jokes began. One wag renamed us the Pink Panzer Division. But the best was the Humvee bumper sticker “Ask me about Mary Kay.”

  — DAVID K. DRURY

  “Okay, we’ll meet back here at 1600 hours. Synchronize your BlackBerries.”

  My cousin was attached to a Marine air squadron that was deployed with an Air Force fighter unit flying missions over Bosnia. When the Marines arrived at the air base in Italy, they were ordered to move into a camp in a field near the runway. The Air Force unit soon followed, but their pilots checked into a hotel. Shortly afterward an Air Force colonel drove to the Marine camp. “Hey, Marines,” he called out, “start breaking camp.” “Are we moving into the hotel with you?” the Marines asked. “No,” the Air Force colonel joked. “We need you to move your tents off of what’s going to be our golf course.”

  — W. C. GRAHAM

  At the end of a tough day in Iraq, my daughter the airman collapsed onto the first seat in the transport truck, forcing everyone else to climb over her. “Private!” hollered the sergeant. “Skinny girls get in the back so when we men get on with our weapons and equipment, we don’t have to climb over you. Have I made myself clear?” Suddenly my daughter perked up, responding, “Do you really think I’m skinny?”

  — MARGARET CULBERTSON

  The boyfriend of a co-worker is serving in Iraq. Naturally, she can’t wait for him to come home. “How’s it going over there?” I asked her. “He e-mailed me last night,” she said. “It’s quiet where he is.” Knowing that doesn’t make it any less scary, I asked, “What outfit is he serving in?” “Desert camouflage.”

  — GEORGE COVELES

  To mail a big package of cookies to my two Air Force sons, both of whom were serving in Saudi Arabia, I was required to attach a label describing the contents. I carefully marked the box “Cookies” and sent it off, but after a month my sons said they had yet to receive my package. Suspicious, I baked another batch, only this time I labeled the contents “Health Food.” Within a week my sons reported they had received the goodies.

  — WANDA HAMEISTER

  While serving in Korea, I took a course in rappelling. As the only noninfantryman in the group, I felt pressure to perform as well as the “ground pounders.” In our first class we were told to hook up to a rope and jump off a 50-foot tower. As eac
h student nervously went over the edge, we were encouraged to shout morale-building slogans. Ahead of me I heard cries of “Geronimo,” “Airborne” and “Air Assault.” Being a postal clerk, I got a round of laughs when I jumped from the tower and shouted, “Airmail!”

  — PHILIP PETERS

  Before shipping out to Europe with the Army Air Corps during World War II, my father loaned his buddy $20. The two were assigned to different units and lost contact. Months later, my father’s plane was shot down. Bleeding from shrapnel wounds, he bailed out and was greeted by German soldiers, who took him as a prisoner. After a long train ride, little food and days of forced marching, he arrived at his assigned stalag. As he entered the compound, he heard a familiar voice. “You cheapskate! You followed me all the way here for a measly $20?”

  — BRUCE EY

  Since I’m at a base in Korea, my family has to stay behind in the States. Every package I get from them comes with a customs form listing the contents and their value. Once, I got a box from home. The contents listed on the form read: “Homemade chocolate chip cookies.” In the space marked “Value,” my wife wrote: “Priceless.”

  — JON SUTTERFIELD

  Using sand from quarries in Kuwait, Navy Seabees stationed in Al Jaber Air Base were building concrete aircraft parking ramps before the start of Operation Iraqi Freedom. When the quarries were closed temporarily, our stockpiles were exhausted in three days. The fourth day the following report was issued: “Kuwait has run out of sand.”

  — JOHN LAMB

  Pride of the Corps

  I was participating in a U.N. peacekeeping mission outside Skopje, Macedonia. We were required to stay on post at all times, so I hadn’t been off base for six weeks when a general came to boost morale. Speculation ran high over who would be invited to the general’s dinner at a top restaurant in Skopje. The afternoon of the big event, my commander called me over and said, “Captain Adams, you know the dinner we’re having for the general?” “Yes, sir!” I replied, expectantly. “Well, the general forgot to bring civilian clothes,” he said. “You’re about his size. Can he borrow a pair of pants?”

  — THOMAS R. ADAMS, JR.

  As he prepared to leave for the Gulf, my husband was complaining to a friend about his uniform. Military men are taught to care about their appearance, and the Air National Guard would be wearing desert camouflage but not the matching sand-colored utility belt. “I get it,” said his friend. “You always want to look your best, even when you don’t want to be seen.”

  — LISA RAINO

  When the Second Division set up shop in South Korea, it did so with its slogan proudly displayed at the front gate: “Second to None.” A few months later, a South Korean base opened two miles down the road. The sign greeting visitors read “You are now entering the famed sector of the South Korean ROK Division, better known as ‘The None Division.’ ”

  — LUCION CLEMONS

  We were asleep in our cots at Bagram Air Base in Afghanistan when exploding enemy rockets woke us up. My platoon and I threw on our fatigues, grabbed our weapons and ran to the bunker for protection. Inside the bunker, one nervous soldier lit up. “Put that cigarette out!” I ordered. “Yeah, forget the rockets,” said another soldier as more rounds rocked the bunker. “That secondhand smoke’ll kill ya.”

  — SSG JAMES KELLERT

  At an air force symposium, a colonel gave a briefing on military activity in the Persian Gulf. “The first slide shows the area in which we were operating,” the colonel began. Then he realized the slide was in backward. There was a pause as the projectionist flipped the map around. “As you can see,” the colonel continued dryly, “our first and constant concern was the region’s instability.”

  — ANDY SMITH

  In Korea, a number of fellow Marines who were raised in the country told those of us from the city how delicious roasted pheasant was. They even persuaded our cook to make the dish, should we be lucky enough to find a few birds. Driving in the countryside soon afterward, I spotted one of them in a tree about 200 yards away. I immediately shot the bird, jumped over a fence and ran across the field to retrieve it. When I got back to my jeep, there were two military policemen waiting for me. I explained what I had done and why, but the sergeant still scowled. “You made two mistakes, son,” he said. “First, that’s a hawk, not a pheasant. Second, you just ran through a minefield.”

  — LAWRENCE L. VOYER

  Beating the System

  Impressed by how well Airman Jones gets recruits to sign up for GI insurance, the captain listens in on his sales pitch. “If you have insurance and are killed in battle, the government pays $50,000 to your beneficiaries,” explains Jones. “If you don’t have insurance and get killed, the government pays nothing. Now,” he concludes, “who do you think gets sent into battle first?”

  — SGT. KENNETH J. ALMODOVAR

  A few years ago, with the Fourth of July approaching, it was my job as safety officer of my Marine Corps unit to develop a slogan and to put up posters discouraging drinking over the holiday weekend. We had no accidents that year, and I attribute it partly to our slogan: “He who comes forth with a fifth on the Fourth may not come forth on the fifth.”

  — ROBERT ABNEY

  I was stationed at Sheppard Air Force Base in Texas when I was told I would have to qualify to use a .38-caliber pistol. Having only held a gun on two other occasions, I was apprehensive. When I fired my first shot, the loud bang and the gun’s kick startled me so much I almost dropped the pistol. Worst of all, in my panic I forgot to keep the gun pointed down range and drew a stern reprimand from my sergeant. When I retrieved my targets, however, I was amazed to see that I had qualified with flying colors. The sergeant looked at my scores with disbelief and commented that he had been certain I would fail. Smiling, I held up my index finger and thumb in a mock gun position and said, “Nintendo.”

  — PEGGY ALSTON

  Some pet peeves with soldiers: Finding out the “C” in C rations stands for “cat.” You’re on amphibious maneuvers and you just can’t stop giggling. Marching with fixed bayonets and the guy behind you doesn’t hear “halt!” Mediocre in-flight magazine on troop transports. Whenever you screw up, somebody starts singing that “Be All That You Can Be” song real sarcastically.

  — SOURCE UNKNOWN

  A friend whose husband was stationed at Fort Bliss, in Texas, actually got a letter addressed to “Fort Ignorance.” “How did you know where to deliver it?” she asked the mailman. “We were stumped at first,” he admitted. “But then I remembered, “Ignorance is bliss.”

  — WILLIAM DE GRAF

  The guard in Air Force basic training must check the ID of everyone who comes to the door. A trainee was standing guard when he heard a pounding on the door and the order “Let me in!” Through the window he saw the uniform of a lieutenant colonel and immediately opened up. He quickly realized his mistake. “Airman! Why didn’t you check for my authority to enter?” Thinking fast, the airman replied, “Sir, you’d have gotten in anyway.” “What do you mean?” “Uh . . . the hinges on the door . . . they’re broken, sir.” “What? Show me!” With a twinkle in his eye, the airman opened the door, let the officer step out and slammed the door shut. “Airman! Open up immediately!” “Sir, may I see your authority to enter?” The airman was rewarded for outsmarting his commanding officer.

  — ROSS BALFOUR

  In the early ’90s, when I was stationed at Caserma Carlo Ederle in Italy, it was very common to see soldiers riding bicycles back and forth to work. So it came as no big surprise that, after a series of painfully comic accidents, a new policy was announced, saying in summary, “Soldiers shall no longer salute officers who are engaged in the riding of a bicycle.”

  — MICHAEL TEAS

  My boss is a public-affairs manager who is called at all hours of the day to solve various problems for clien
ts. But as a Naval Reservist, he was summoned to the Persian Gulf War for an extended time, leaving me to explain that he was serving his country halfway around the world and therefore could not be reached. Most callers understood, but one was indignant. “Can he be paged?” the man inquired. “I don’t think you understand,” I said in my most patient voice. “He’s serving on a ship in a war zone.” “I see,” the man said. “Do you think he will be calling in for messages?”

  — SUSAN HULL

  Fifteen years of blissful civilian life ended when I re-upped with the Air National Guard recently. It took time getting back into the swing of things, and after a particularly rough day I missed chow, which meant dinner would be a dreaded MRE: Meal Ready to Eat. As I sat on my bunk staring at “dinner,” I said to a far younger airman, “Well, I guess we just have to get used to roughing it.” “Dude, tell me about it,” he said. “We only get basic cable!”

  — KINGSLEY SLONE

  My husband and I were stationed at Marine Corps Air Station, Cherry Point, N.C., where he worked with top-secret communications equipment. One afternoon I watched as he and three other Marines struggled to set up a huge screen that looked like a television. After they finished, I asked my husband if he was permitted to tell me what the screen was for. He said that it would be used for communications, but that the higher ranks couldn’t know its intended use. Confused, I asked, “Is it that top secret?” “No,” he replied, “we’re gonna use it to watch football games.”

  — J. L. SABIN

  Soon after graduating from the Primary Leadership Development Course at Fort Campbell in Kentucky, I bragged to my first sergeant about how well I did in the land-navigation exercise. Looking at me skeptically, the first sergeant handed me a map of the base, a compass and a set of coordinates. Then he ordered me to find his designated point and call in. When I reached the coordinates, it turned out to be the PX. I found a pay phone and contacted the first sergeant. “Great job!” he declared. “Now that you’re there, could you bring me some lunch?”