Laughter in the Military

Posted: 11 Nov 01:

This is a story that my father experienced. He was in the army in the 1950's. He was administering vaccines to the new recruits. My father is a funny man. He likes to play with people and situations. He and his assistant were in the room that each new soldier goes into to get their shots. On purpose my father held up a commercial sized hypodermic syringe (the kind that is sent to a doctors office just as advertising). It was about one foot long as well as the needle. My father would purposely hold up the shot to his assistant (all while keeping a straight face) and say, "ok, now Joe (or whoever his assistant was), I want you to stick this needle into the eyeball of each new recruit. Try to extract the full syringe worth of blood and when you pull the needle out of the eye, make sure that you use two fingers to hold the eye in place so that the eyeball does not pop out of the socket." Ok, let me just tell you that my dad said that guys were passing out in line and some were yelling, "he's not stickin me with that thing"! I'll kill him! He ain't coming near me with that thing....." I can only imagine.........

Posted: 5 Sep 01: "Gump"

I joined the Navy in December of 1998, and left a mild Louisiana winter to Great Mistakes, IL. In retrospect, sometimes I think the entire experience could be material for comedy central. From asking how to use a snow shovel, to dropping a snickers in the NEX when an RDC was yelling at the 2nd week guy a few feet away, My boot camp experience was spent stifling laughter. The funniest, in my opinion was finding out my nickname.

I was asmoed to FIT division after spraining my ankle on the ice right before the PT0, when a girl was asmoed in. She went to the RDC's office to ask about the ditty bags. With my heavy Louisiana accent, I had almost immediately been christened "Ms. Gump" by the RDC's. and the rest of the group picked up on it, unbeknownst to me. It was always 'Williams' to my face. Well, Skelly, the new girl was told to 'go find Ms. Gump, she'll hook you up.' Skelly walked up to the RPOC and asked Who is Gump. The RPOC pointed at me. She walked up to me and said "Excuse me, are you Gump." Looking up, "Nawpe, Mah name is Williams. ( I am writing this phonetically to give you an idea of what it sounded like) Ya need anythin thar, shipmate?"

I enlisted in the Army on February 20, 1975 and took basic training at Fort McClellan, Alabama. My drill sergeant was a man. I'll never forget the day he taught us how to set up our wall and foot lockers. As you all can remember, there is a place for everything and everything in its place. He showed us where to place our soap, toothbrush, toothpaste, etc and then showed us where to place our sanitary supplies. His first mistake was pointing out that they were "optional". Well we all started to giggle and he got red in the face. Then we moved on to the footlocker. He taught us how to make our socks and pantyhose smile. Ok. But then came the bra. He was so hard to explain how to fold a bra the Army way without actually touching one. What a comedy routine. Now by this time we were all in stitches and he
was really red in the face and told us "Ladies, this is serious business!" Finally he couldn't take it any more and walked out. Shortly after one of the meanest women drill sergeants came in and finished the job. We were really in trouble then.

outside in the July night until well past 10:00. The 'band' headed back to the buses just as the Coy was being dismissed. Well, this is when the REAL fun starts! One of the guys in the band starts giving me a hard time, the likes of typical male humor for a girl (16!) in the army. "Yeah, copping out of drill to be in the band." etc. So I reach forward, snatch the glasses off his face, and dump them out the bus window and move back a few seats, hoping he'll leave me alone. And just my luck, the hit the RSM on the way into the muddy ground. So within the next five seconds, one platoon storms on the bus. The last one on, in dress uniform, (obviously NOT doing drill!) holds up the glasses and asks "did somebody LOSE these?" The brat sheepishly takes his glasses back and dives back into his seat (Being a civie saved him from the RSM's wrath!) and then, who takes the only empty seat beside the girl in civies with the band, but the RSM! I spend the 40 min bus ride back to the Armoury listening to the RMS talk to the PL2i/c about the little brats in the band! To which he adds to me (knowing I'm in the band) "Don't they get on your nerves?" "Of course they do, Warrant!" I quickly agree. He never knew it was me, as CWO in C changed just after that parade!

I can remember going through Air Force Basic Training at Lackland in Oct of 91'. I was someone who had learned before going to basic not to volunteer that I enjoyed bowling or to speak out to much as to get noticed by the TI, so he never learned your name. Well we had two team members on male and because we were a female flight we had a female TI also who pretty much was just a babysitter for us during our first few nights at wonderful Lackland AFB. Well the day following our BDU issue our two TI began to have a bit of a disagreement as to if the female belt buckle went on the same side as the male. My flight had just entered into chow hall, where it is still sit gag down your two glasses of water and try to finish at least two bites of chow before the table before you is done. I had just come down the line with my hands on my tray, pushing it to the end of the rails. I had just picked it up and was turning towards the Snake Pit ( The end of the chow line where all of the TI's sit and you desperately hope you get by them without them picking you out for something.) When I heard a "You, Airman get over here." So I did something that you should never do. I looked around hoping and looking pretty stupid I must say, praying that it wasn't me being called over. "Yeah, you smart britches." I had been caught. So I quickly walked over to my female TI. Setting my chow tray down and speedily blurting out my reporting statement. "Maam, Airman Smith reports as ordered." She was probably a good 4 inches shorter than myself and I am only 5' 4". So when she spoke next I almost started to laugh. "Smith get up on the table." "Maam" I said. "Climb up onto the damn table." So I did as I was ordered. Slowly climbed up onto the table. Standing in front of the chow hall, at attention, in all my glory. As I was doing this, she grabbed my belt buckle and began pulling and pushing me back and forth pointing out to my other TI. "This is the way that the female belt buckle is to face." As I am standing on the table, my face pitch red from embarrassment, trying very hard not to start breaking out into loud laughter. I kinda snickered under my breath. It must have been just then that she had realized what she had done, because I was allowed to leave and eat at a very comfortable pace. I was even allowed a soda. But I no longer had the luxury of the TI's no longer knowing my name.

single), off we go. For something fun I put a bunch of flowers in my barrette on the back of my head, which I thought looked pretty cool. Later in the evening the other girls wanted to go to the "loo". We searched everywhere for a public bathroom to no avail. When we came across a McDonalds, they all went inside. It was an (is still) an open to the streets McDonalds. I stood out front patiently waiting for my friends. Then a cop car pulls up to the curb. Out walks this great looking policeman. We made eye contact. I smiled (stupid 19yr old, remember). He went into McDonalds. About 5 minutes later he came out and started to approach me (my little brain got excited). As he got closer I noticed him removing his ticket book. "Excuse me" , he said, "Are you working this street?" "WHAT?", I replied. "Are you working this street?", he repeated. My eyeballs must have been huge! I got all puffed up and said "I am in the Navy". "Right, and I work for PT Barnum, show me your ID card". He said this starting to scribble away in his book. "Um, I don't have my ID card (stupid remember)". "Ok so what's your job then, the manager just called complaining about you soliciting in front of his store." Oh, my god was all I could think. "Hey, look," I said, " my girlfriends are just going to the head they can vouch for me". "Look young lady, what your doing is dangerous work and we are having full crack down, so either show me an ID or come with me." Now I am really panicing. Then I hear from behind me, "Hey robin, what's going on?" Salvation at last, I turned around and yelled "he wants to pick me up for being a HOOKER!" To my horror....every face in McDonalds had stopped to watch what was going on, Big Mac's mid air.

if I could just kind of slid over on to the stretcher rather than being lifted. They allowed it but I had to act quickly so that it looked official. Then with one medic on each end of the stretcher they lifted the stretcher and started to carry it to the ambulance. The guy at my head got his fingers caught in my hair and my wig fell right off in the dirt! My male co worker jumped off his stretcher and grabbed the wig and yelled, "I got it!" He then laid the wig on top of his wound which was on his lower abdomen and looked like intestines spilling out. The wig covered up the unsightly looking thing and then he said, "I don't have the guts for this."

We were loaded in the ambulance while laughing hysterically and our stretchers were fastened onto the side walls of the vehicles so that we were literally suspended on these canvas things. We were transported to the base hospital where we were taken in the emergency entrance where doctors, nurses and the chaplain were waiting for us. All went through the motions of acting like they were treating us. Having got through that part, we were taken up to the third floor and, still on our stretchers, were laid on the bare floor in front of the elevators. Then the medics left us alone and we were wondering what was supposed to happen next. We later found out that as soon as the "Exercise" was over we could leave. While we were waiting for that to happen, a doctor whom had just seen one of my daughters* in the Pediatric Clinic the day before saw us laying there and recognized me. "Mrs. Kiley, what are you doing?" I said, "My exercises."

When I got my wig back on and got back to work, I immediately sought out my NCOIC who was laughing and said that I had been indoctrinated to Europe. "Thanks a lot", I said.

Later, my husband called and said that he had been in the Command Post when someone reported that a

was only a year or so after they allowed women with prior service to renter the military even if they already had a family. I served from 1966 to 1969 and was discharged when I married. I re-entered the Air Force in 1971 and had two children. I had to go to pediatric appointments in my uniform and eventually people got used to the idea. It wasn't long before women were afforded the choice of staying in the military while pregnant or in leaving. Three years later when I became pregnant with our third daughter, I decided to leave. I did not regret it at first until I later saw all the wonderful new opportunities being offered to women and realized that I could have been a part of that and that I could be retired by now. Instead, my husband stayed and did retire in 1985.

I won't use the flower language used by the cadre that fall day in 1978, but; I will try to give you the politically correct version of my humorous anecdote. It happened when me and a buddy was returning from chow at Fort Leonard Wood. In those days you double timed between point A and B regardless of the time of day. We had to be in groups of two or more to move. Today in basic or OSUT we call it having a battle buddy. Like typical privates we were breaking the rules by walking, talking and BSing. There was not yet gender integrated training back then, so when we came upon this group of female soldiers being directed by this female drill sergeant we had to stop and look. Neither of us knew that there were female drill sergeants or women at Fort Leonard Wood there as soldiers. We were amazed by the sight. We survived there just long enough to hear a short portion of the drill sergeant's diatribe. She called those soldiers to attention by saying, "When I call you to attention I want to see 72 breasts at attention and hear 36 vaginas snap." Imagine what she really said! My friend and I could not control our laughter on hearing that. The drill sergeant heard us and then hurled fire and brimstone at us. She said unless you training want a piece of this action I advised you to move with excessive speed. No way were we going to be there when the fire mission came in to fire for effect. My buddy and I took off because if by chance we ever saw any of those women again we did not want to be remembered as

In 1975 while attending basic training at Fort McClellan, Alabama, myself and several new recruites were selected for flag detail. It was to be a great honor to represent our platoon by putting the flag up. On the day we were to put the flag up we were having a horrible thunderstorm and our drill sergeant said "privates, it is storming outside and it is pitch black dark so I want you to only wear your hose, panties and dress blouses under your raincoats." That way our new class A's would remain nice. The trip to the flag pole was only a short distance away and nobody but the drill sergeant, post CQ and other privates would see us. Well away we went...every thing was perfect. As the first private attempted to hook the flag to the lanyard we had a terrible hard gust of wind. It was all we could do to hold the lanyard and the flag in one place long enough to hook it...well, in all the excitement the private not only attached to flag, but hooked the last button hole on her raincoat...needless to say, what happened next was a shock to not only the private, but the sheer horror on the drill sergeant's face when up went the raincoat with the flag. It is a moment that will forever be in my memory..only a basic trainee could do something so unbelievable...

I had trained with my step-father who was a former Naval Seal (Team 1 in Vietnam) and a local Martial Arts legend, to get me physically and mentally prepared for Marine Corps Basic Training at Parris Island. I'll never forget how scared the men (the last of which I saw for some time) and other women were. It was like the last ride to death row as the song by Queen "We will rock you played" and everyone began to sing along to break the silence. The women were separated from the men and we were delivered to Parris Island. (still remembering those yellow feet).

We were into the first phase of training and out on that wonderful Parris Island Parade Deck when the C.O. stepped on deck. She was probably a nice person and I had (secretly) wanted to be a D.I. much like her. I always have and always will have the deepest respect for rank and drill instructors, but it just didn't show on this day.

The C.O. began to march up to each recruit and scream as the words literally spit from her mouth at each recruit. When she did this, each recruit began to break down crying. I knew that my turn was soon to follow, however being the shortest of the bunch and at the end of the platoon, it had more time to fester in my mind. I was scared and did not know what I would do when my turn came. Then, like paying taxes, there it was. She was bumping her nose off of mine with spit flying at me while I heard the words,"YOU THINK YOU ARE PRETTY?!? WELL LET ME TELL YOU, YOU ARE UGLY!!!!" I tried to hold it in, but thought I'd die if I didn't and knew they'd probably kill me if I did. I never laughed so hard in all of my life. The puzzled look on her face did not help anything. Then every single DI on that deck came over and they were all screaming like mad hornets. I finally fell on the ground laughing.

Yes, I paid dearly for it later. But I went there for the physical training and the make up classes just weren't cutting it for me. I was later surrounded by the entire platoon and they asked what was going on in my mind to make me laugh like that. I told them that, there she was accusing us of being ugly and she had no idea how ugly she looked when she wrinkled her face and twitched her body with that attitude. It reminded me of Sanford and Son. Everyone began to laugh as they agreed.

It was so funny but why did I feel so guilty about it? I thought the D.I.s had forgotten about it right? NOT! At the end of that week, I had to go to the dentist. I returned to the barracks and the company had gone to be fitted for their uniforms. I was still dazed from the Novocain and ran to the group as ordered. Well they forgot to tell me to bring my pumps and a slip. So there I stood in my T-shirt (to my knee's) and my combat boots. The entire place laughed histerically...except me. Was I ever a private Benjamin. The Drill Instructors all came up and said, "we're even." That they were.

I later got out of the Corps and became a Police Officer. I wish many times over that I could return to those days. Life was a lot easier then.

Part of my time in the Army was spent assigned to the 14th Army Band (formerly the WAC Band), Fort McClellan, in the late 70s and early 80s. One of our outdoor gigs was playing at a county fair in southern Alabama, where they had us set up right next to a railroad track. Sure enough, a train came along and honked for the grade crossing while we were playing. Someone had left a car parked on the tracks, so they stopped the train and backed it up a mile or so while they moved the car. We continued playing and went on to the next song in the program, when the train came along again and honked just as a trumpet player stood up to take a solo, then it blew a long blast which drowned us out completely. It was one of the funniest things ever happened to me on duty.

When I was in AIT in Fort Leonard Wood , MO for 88M (truckdriver) school I was in my last week before graduation and we were trying our hardest to get everything right so we could get our off-post pass the last weekend at Fort Lost in the Woods. We were all pretty stressed when it came time for our final inspection. I was standing at attention so hard that my face must have been 100 shades of red, because when my drill sergeant was standing in front of me she whispered "private did you shave today?" by the way I am a female without the need to shave. She really made me relax. On the day of graduation when I was walking through to get my certificate I asked my drill the same question she couldn't help but laugh.

I have to say that as a military wife of the U S Army for over 7 years I have heard many humorous stories, as well as complaints. My ex-husband was one of the last who went through basic training before "stress cards" came into play. I can not understand how these stress cards will help when it comes time for war. I have thought about joining the military myself, but I am raising 4 children, which the military does not allow one to join with so many dependants. (Just don't want you to think I'm blabbing my mouth without the nerve to join).

Anyhow, at the time we were stationed down at Ft.Hood, Texas and during the summer it gets very hot and with full BDUs on, I can only guess at how warm the guys and gals get. Well, he was down in the motor pool with the rest of his unit doing maintenance when a group of basic guys came in. Mind you it was over a hundred degrees. Peoples tempers were flaring and everyone was irritated, but just trying to get their work done quickly so they could get out of there. Well, it seems one of the Sgts. in the bay was trying to give some instruction and he was "sorta" barking out some things and one of the guys in the group pulls out his stress card and holds it up. The Sgt. looks him square in the eye and walks over to him and grabs it from the kid. He then went to ripping it up in very tiny pieces while hollering at him what are you going to do with this? Do you think that this will save your lil' a** when you go to war? The kid started stammering "you can't do that, that's my stress card". The rest of the group stood there wide eyed and mouths open. Nobody else had the nerve to say one thing on the issue. I found this funny due to the fact that every guy in the unit was down there breaking track and crawling around busting their butts, WORKING, and this kid had the nerve to try to play on sympathy. I often wonder if he got ousted or somehow finagled a early out.

The first time I came home (Memorial Day weekend,1978) I was 3 weeks into tech school, following Air Force basic training . I put on my Dress Blues to show my friends and family. A little while later I got a phone call to meet some other friends at a neighborhood "water hole". While walking the 3 blks to get there, still wearing my uniform, an older lady stopped me on the street and asked me "What airline I worked for".

While stationed at Ft.Huachuca for my Advanced Individual Training, we had to do plenty of soldiering skills, but none so important as CTT. One of the biggest things was dawning your protective gas masks in the time allotted. A week prior to this training, Drill Sergeants, with the exception of physical training, would make you wear the mask at all times. They would catch you in the chow line at the mess hall, or even as you were getting on the bus that took us to the classrooms. Whatever the case may have been, the more inconvenient, the better. Well, there was one certain female Drill Sergeant who was most creative and had the best timing it seemed. If there was a Drill to avoid it was her. She was short, maybe 5'2" and definitely tough with the most annoying cadence voice ever. One evening as a bunch of us were in the break area smoking and joking, she walked around the corner to which we promptly picked up as if we were studying for CTT. She was walking very fast and seemed distracted and didn't even mess with us which was unusual but we thought we had gotten off without having to dawn our masks. As she disappeared in the doorway, we all let out a sigh of relief and continued with our chatter. Within seconds we heard her as she stuck her head out of the door, "Gas, gas, gas!" To which of course we jumped out of our seats, one girl falling off the bench as she got her leg stuck, one girl had gotten her mask out so fast it went flying 15 feet in front of her. Had it been a real life situation, we would have been dead. Through our masks we heard what seemed to be an awful lot of laughter and as we looked up, the rest of the company, as well as the other Drill Sergeants, were watching from windows down into the break area. After the Drill Sergeant gave us the all clear signal, we heard her yell up to her peers, "...Well, I told you I would get 'em! Now for the rest of you.....GAS!GAS!GAS!" Her timing was never off, she got the rest of the troops that were watching.

While I was stationed in South Korea in an MP unit as my first assignment the squad leaders in my unit where all quite pranksters. On a training day it was required to conduct vehicle maintenance at the motorpool. Being an inexperienced private I was told to go to the motorpool office and retrieve all the 2404's for the humvees on line. As I proceeded to the office one of the squad leaders told me that I also needed the DD form ST1 and to get as many as the 2404's. I asked him what the ST1's were and his reply was "Just go ask", upon which I did so. I was told by the motorpool clerk that she didn't know what they were either. I went back to the squad leader and informed him that I didn't think the office had any ST1's and I then was told that I needed to go to the Company and see if they had any because it was imperative that we have this paperwork to turn in with the 2404's. So I proceeded to the company in search of the DD Form ST1. I first went to our platoon office to look in the filing cabinet and one of the Platoon Sergeants and my Platoon Leader were there and I asked them and they couldn't help me either. Upon leaving the office the Platoon Sergeant told to research this mission and get back to him because in all of his 13 years in the Army he had never heard of the form. At that point I knew something was fishy. My first stop in the company was to the training room where an E-5 and anE-6 held positions and I asked it they knew where I could find the forms. No luck there. the E-6 told me to try the Operation's NCOIC, and the E-5 spouted off about the form as if he had heard of it but hadn't seen it floating around in awhile. So I proceeded to our Commo NCOIC and asked about the form thinking maybe the form had to do with the Singgars that we had in our vehicles. No luck again. So I went to the Operations Sgt. and asked him where he told me that he has seen it but I might have to go to Battalion to get a copy because the publication of the form was limited, but I might want to ask the 1st Sgt that he may have a copy, which I did so. Now our 1st Sgt at the time was a very respected E-8 and when he told me that he had never heard of it I thanked him for allowing me to waste his time and proceeded back to the motorpool to find the illustrious squad leader who sent me on this wild goose chase. After telling this squad leader of my journey he started to laugh hysterically and fell off the back of the trailer that he was sitting on along with one of the team leaders in my platoon, and they looked at each other and said, "Do ya think we ought to tell her?". The squad leader then told me there was no such thing as the form ST1 and then told me to spell out ST1. I did so and realized at that point that in all actuality I was looking for a stone, hence ST1 (ST-ONE). At first I was furious at them for making me look like a fool in front of everyone but to show them my good humor I proceeded to find 8 good size stones and wrote DD Form ST1 in black marker and personally hand delivered each one to the following personnel involved in the "pass-the-buck", including the 1st Sgt. They all laughed and took the stones. The stones remained on the desks of some until I PCS'ed out of Korea.

I was stationed in the Republic of Korea in the mid-Eighties and dating a fighter pilot. (Yes, I have since learned better...) We were at the O'Club for lunch with my four-year-old daughter--me in BDUs and him in the ever-present "green bag" flight-suit. After looking over the menu selections, my fly-boy said, "I feel like a sandwich." To which my daughter responded, "You LOOK like a pickle!"

Several weeks later, as the same child and I walked home from the base, there was a roar and shaking of windows which could only mean that one of the very "secret" planes was taking off--the ones nobody was supposed to know about. My preschooler pointed skyward and shouted, "Look! It's the picture-taking airplane!" "Quiet, Honey," I whispered, "We don't have any of those here." Right. But the kids in the child care center know what they are!

I have a short, funny story about my dad's experience in the navy. He was 17 when he joined, and he didn't get everything in writing, so, therefore, they gave him a different MOS. He wanted to work on planes and the likes, so he could get an airport job. They gave him ammo, so he wasn't too thrilled. He was young, and he "decided" to go AWOL. When they picked him up at his mother's house, at 5:30 AM in the middle of winter, they had him in the car holding on to his jacket, shoes, and half his clothing in his arms like a dazed, terrified kid, and off he went behind bars for about 2 months. Now every night after lights out, some of the guys in his room would have pillow fights and shaving cream fights. Well, one night, all the guys were throwing pillows and spraying shaving cream at each other. Nobody heard the sergeant coming, nor did they hear when he got to the lights....he flicked on the lights...and masses of people froze instantly as if time itself had stopped. Through the second it took for realization to occur...a single, white pillow, was tumbling through the air, and heading right for the SERGEANT! It hit him square in the face!!! and then he caught it. He made everybody get in formation and stand there, at attention, in their underwear, until someone confessed. He said they stood there for a good two hours, until finally, the guy who threw it said so in order not to gain the hatred of all his friends. So there you have it, my little story, which I hope was still funny, even though "you weren't there". Thanks for listening, and boy, I can't wait to get in the army, and NOT go AWOL. Won't my dad have something to think about! ;)

My unit trains ROTC Cadets every summer. This last summer I spent a grueling month at Ft. Lewis,WA. . Being instructors for an assault course our job was to teach them basic combat skills, i.e., shoot, move and communicate. The course itself consisted of some rather difficult obstacles including rope bridges, wire obstacles and so forth. One day we were given an especially unmotivated group of cadets. A particular member of this group was being very difficult. He was laying under one of the wire obstacles, just laying there. Finally, after a few minutes of watching him lay there I asked him what was wrong. His reply come back " Sergeant, I think that we should do job oriented training." Finding this rather humorous, being a clerk, I asked him what he was going to do for the Army. "Jag Corps, Sergeant". Unbelieving at what I had just heard I got down at ground level with this cadet and told him, " Cadet, I spent eight weeks at basic training learning this stuff and this is my third week of instructing it." He asked me what that had to do with him. I said " cadet, do you know what I do for the Army?" He said no, of course. I told him that I was a clerk. Staring at me like I had just killed his dog, he very hurriedly moved out.

We all have our stories. For me it was in Basic Combat Training in Ft Jackson. It has to be understood that I am very intelligent but not coordinated at ALL. I was Platoon Guide. The company was to be marched to chow. The command before I ran the company into the side of berm (a steep hill?) would have been column left. However, I could not decide how or when to give the command. So the company marched into the hill. Realizing that I was chewed up from the floor up, I gave the company a command of halt. The next command was on the command to fall out fall in on me. In my mind, this was the only way I could get the company going in the direction they needed to be. About the time I gave the command, a Drill Sergeant came yelling, "Hey YOU!! What are you doing?" Then I was told to get on down and push. Still not coordinated, but I can march a company.

When I was in boot camp in 1974, one of our first 'assignments' was to receive our dog tags. As we each received them and were checking them, one of the girls wanted to know what all the information was on the dog tag. I told her "The first line is your name, the second line is your social security number, and the third line is your blood type and your religion". She said "Mine doesn't have my blood type". I said, "Sure it does!" She said "No, it doesn't. It just says I'm A ROMAN CATHOLIC"....submitted by Christine, USN LDO Supply Corps, Retired

When I was in the Air Force during the 1970s, we were implementing the new security procedures for the terminals. My job was to hand search all carry on packages for concealed weapons, knives with blades over 3 inches, etc. I was stationed at Travis AFB, CA. The war in 'Nam was on the down swing but it was still there. I think anyone could imagine my surprise when I reached down into what I thought was a shaving kit, and felt the contents wiggle under my hand. The passenger had a live rabbit in his hand carry bag. I screamed but was trapped between two tables and two posts. He didn't take the rabbit on the plane but the guys in my section called me "Bunny" for a while.

While stationed at the Pentagon as a photographer, we were in civilian clothing during ceremonies to allow us "freedom to move without having to salute every two seconds". This however did not excuse us from uniform inspections twice a month on little or no notice. I worked with an E-6 with 18 yrs in service who had worn civvies for almost his entire career(I'm still not sure how he managed this). Anyway the sergeant major called him out to inspection in BDU's with the rest of us. (His first inspection in more than five years!) We stood in formation on the A ring in the Pentagon at 9 in the morning and suddenly from around the corner comes Jerome. I had all I could do to stand still(from laughter). If anyone looked more like Gomer Pyle at that moment, it was Jerome. He had retrieved his one and only set of BDU's from his two sons and actually wore them. The pants and shirt were two different shades of faded his boots had little if any heel left, and the topper was his hat! There was so much grease on that hat that he looked as though he rode to work under his car. Anyway I ended up falling out of formation because I laughed so hard I was crying. The sergeant major had a field day!

The army requires that you go through the gas chamber at the end of basic training. So this is where I was going. I am standing in the gas chamber and the drill sgt. told us to take off our masks and then he opened the door to let us out. The person at the other end of the door was our commander. So as I walked out with tears in my eyes and not even being able to think, I passed the commander and saluted. I missed my head by at least 6 inches and fell over.

I was in basic training at Fort Jackson, SC, in the summer of 1975. We were all lined up at the obstacle course one hot June day for training and the Drill Sergeant was calling out names. All of a sudden she called out my name and added "last four!" I looked around puzzled, not knowing what I was supposed to do. Again, she hollered my name, adding "last four!" Thinking fast, I decided that she must be telling me to go and stand with the last four people in the line. Off I ran to the end of the line. Boy, did I feel stupid when she looked at me and hollered my name again, adding "last four numbers of your SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER!"

I enlisted in the Army and attended basic training at Ft. Leonardwood, MO. At Ft. Leonardwood the females lived in rooms instead of bays like the males because there were so few of us. During the 7th week of basic training our platoon had a practice inspection before the Col. would actually do it. So at the time the 1st Sgt. Lee was pretending to be the Lt.Col. I had 2 room mates who feared this man very much....they called him BIG BIRD because he was soooooo tall and had a harsh voice. 1st Sgt. came in and inspected our room and of course fragile females that we were we could not get the dust behind our wall lockers. The 1st Sgt. very loudly pointed this out to us after he moved all of our wall lockers like they were nothing. Apparently this had scared Pvt. X. and Pvt. Z. They stood at attention until they knew that the 1st Sgt. was inspecting the males. After some time of the 1st Sgt. inspecting the males, all three of us had to go to the latrine really bad. So while the 1st Sgt. was inspecting the males, we snuck out of our quarters to go to the latrine. We were half way to the latrines when we heard the 1st Sgt's thunderous footsteps come our way so we ran back to our quarters. Pvt. X Pvt. Z. were so scared of getting caught that they hid in their wall lockers, leaving me there all by myself to explain to the first Sgt. why my battle buddies were not where he had left them when he inspected us. The 1st Sgt. asked me where they were and all I could do was point to the wall lockers:) Soon after the inspection, the 1st Sgt. wanted to talk to all the females in the company and wanted to tell them not to be intimidated by him just because he is a tall man and also stated that he will try to talk softer to the females from now on.(something that could not be achieved no matter how hard he tried.)

I was a very proud Marine, married to another Marine, raising twin daughters just off the base at Cherry Point, N.C. Our lives were as normal as we could make them for our kids, with bike rides, birthday parties, and all the other things that make a childhood memorable.

I thought I could take pride in how nice and normal our family was, until the day my little girls came home from their first day of preschool, one in tears, the other looking like a thundercloud.

"What's wrong?" I asked, and one just howled while the other glared at me, "Momma, Sammi got laughed at!" Full of outrage at the pain my little girl must be feeling, I wrapped my arms around her, "What happened honey?" "She asked to make a Head Call." her sister growled. "And?" I asked, "Mommy, they don't have any heads there... they have bathrooms!"

As a former engineer in the Coast Guard, there are many humorous tales that I could tell. The story I am about to share is both humorous, and a test of a true engineer. Of course it might just be one of those "had to be there" kind of things. I was stationed at the small boat station in NYC during the early summer of 96. On this particular Saturday, it was quiet, so we engineers decided to take advantage of the lull to do some much needed maintenance to our small boats. As was the unspoken rule, the newest FA was sent to get the tools and parts needed for the job. She had made several trips back and forth without incident, and returned to the shop to get the last few things we needed. The rest of us just kind of milled about and made conversation while waiting for her.

As we were talking, a shipmate of ours emerged from the building. He had just been promoted to E-4 earlier that day, so we all congratulated and joked with him. The FA came down the pier carrying two screwdrivers and a handful of screws. I can remember glancing at her heading our way, then turning back to the conversation. "Nice crows Bill." the FA called out, then it got REALLY quiet, except for what sounded like a pebble hitting the water. Everyone talked for a few seconds, then we all seemed to realize that something wasn't right and began looking around. The FA was no where in sight!! Then we heard the splashing noise. We all ran over to the edge of the pier, and there she was, splashing around in the water with a facial expression that cant be described properly in this posting!! We reached down and soon pulled her back onto the pier.

Apparently, when she looked up to congratulate Bill on his advancement, she forgot where she was walking, and next thing you know she walked right off the pier and into the drink!! New nickname: SPLASH! What makes this story great, is that in the true spirit of an engineer, when we pulled her from the water, she still had the two screwdrivers and the handful of screws on her person.

While I was in the Navy I was and engineman third class on small craft. The duties of the engineman was to monitor the engines and to assist the linehandler with the lines. The boat I was assigned to was a YTL (yard tug little) which looked just like a miniature tugboat. Our boat was dispatched to retrieve a camel (floating wooden boxes to separate the pier from the ship) that had broken free from the pier. The coxswain used the bow of the boat to push the camel to the pier where either the line handler or the engineer could climb down and secure another line to the adrift camel. The line handler was fairly new to the boat and she was a little nervous to climb down the bow of the boat to do the job so instead I volunteered to do the job. I managed to climb down the bow of the boat and stood on the camel holding onto the bow of the boat so as not to fall into the water. Standing there I tried to figure out how to do the job without drenching myself in the process. I asked the linehandler to go to the stern of the boat to get me another line as I had decided the easiest way was to tie another rope to the existing small end. As the seaman was on the stern I realized that the rope wasn't as short as I had originally thought. So bravely I let go of the bow of the boat and slowly knelt down to retrieve the line. I managed to retrieve the line without incident and stood back up. As I stood up I reached to grab the bow of the boat and realized that the coxswain had not managed to keep the bow in straight and the boat was moving away from me. Trying not to panic I called out to the coxswain to straighten out the bow of the boat. As the coxswain was swinging the bow around straight again I suddenly realized that not just my boots were wet but also 2 inches of the bottom of my dungarees were wet. At this moment I realized that the camel was sinking due to my weight on it and I was sinking with it. I managed to get a hold of the boat by the time I was knee deep in water. Grabbing a hold of the boat the coxswain was still unable to keep the bow straight and I found that my feet were no longer on the camel and that I was hanging from the bow of the boat. The linehandler by this time had returned and was trying to figure out how to get me out of the water and into the boat as there was nowhere I could get a foot hold. Leaning over she managed to grab my hands and tried to pull me up but her 5'4 115lbs found it hard to pull up my 5'8 150lbs. To this day I am not sure how I got onto the boat but somehow I managed. From that day on I made sure to let the linehandler do their job and stayed nice and dry on the boat.

My husband and I were stationed at MCAS El Toro. After work my husband and I decided to stop at the BX. We were both in cammies as did most of the customers. I was scanning through the greeting card rack, made my selection, pinched my "husband" on the bottom and said "hey handsome-take me home". The marine turned with a look of complete terror. I stammered "you're not him". The poor guy flew out of the BX. I turned to find my husband laughing his head off.

While my husband was deployed my three year old and I were eating a snack on a bench outside the exchange. Everytime a marine in cammies walked by he would ask in his sweetest voice "Is that my dad?" We sure got a lot of weird looks.

Don't worry Captain, it's just as nerve wracking for us trainees as it is for you. You guys scare us with those shiny silver bars, and we feel intimidated by you. I feel honored that we impressed you.

One night at the officer's club the bar waitress told a group of us, mixed company; retired and active men, and women that a female had left her personal clothes behind the women's restroom. She had donned a swimsuit apparently. Since we had a beautiful view out on the backside of the Club, we knew it was possible the young woman was probably swimming, either in the O' Club pool, or at the serene lake w/ a ..... male... The women in the club( wives,retirees,and active members),excited w/glee said "when she comes back, won't she be wondering???? )where is her underwear????? The bra and panties were promptly "posted at staff" at the O'Club swimming pool.

If you transition between different uniforms which require different hats, be sure you have the right hat in your car. I'll never forget when I was stopped by a junior servicemember who respectfully pointed "Ma'am, you're wearing your service cap with your BDU's." I was flabbergasted and raced back to my car to find my BDU hat sitting in the passenger seat.

When I had finally decided to take the early retirement, I was ready to take on the world. I could finally find a job that I could wear civilian clothes!!! When I went to one of my first retirement briefings, I had the opportunity to wear the coveted civilian clothes and took advantage of the fact. I had dressed in semi-professional clothing and could not decide on the shoes that I would wear. I had finally narrowed my selection down to two pairs, when I looked at the clock. I had 20 minutes to get to the briefing, so I just grabbed a pair. When I got out of the car at the building, I noticed that I was limping. I looked down at my feet and with dismay, realized that I had a different style shoes on each foot. They were both black in color, but the heel height was slightly different. I was mortified. Not only had I realized my error, the parking lot was full of workers (the parking lot was being refinished) and they were all laughing. I just knew the laughter was directed at me. I hurried in the building and called my husband. I told him the problem and suggested that he bring my other shoe to me. He finally agreed to do so. (I had to practically bribe him, as he thought this was the funniest incident ever and he wanted the whole world to know.) After I got the shoes and was wearing a matching pair, I couldn't help but think, "Is this how it is going to be, when I have the opportunity to wear civilian clothing to work? I was one who always took time to look good in civilian clothes and here I couldn't even dress myself correctly. Needless to say, that was two years ago, and I still find myself really looking at my shoes before I put them on.

The most laughter, as well as memorable moments, I experienced in the Military was during training. The tension builds as the training gets harder. The Drill Sergeants, Instructors, cooks, and certain trainees know just how to make you laugh to ease the tension. I remember one incident during weapons qualification. A trainee left his weapon on auto with one unexpended round, and proceeded to walk centerfield. Needless to say he was in trouble. But to ease all the tension the incident one of the Drill Sergeants simply said "Lock and Load Aslam, Trying to Kill someone On Ditto Hill".

When I was stationed in Germany as an Army LT, I never thought of the humorous situations that could occur with simple mail. As a birthday surprise I had purchased an item from Fredericks of Hollywood for my boyfriend. Because he was another officer in the same battalion, we wanted to be discreet as much as possible. I handed him the box thinking he would open it later. I checked on a couple of things and when I met him in the parking lot in front of the Company HQ, about 15 troops were standing around my boyfriend's car and when I approached, one of them said "Have fun tonight" then they all gave me an exaggerated salute and left. I asked my boyfriend what that was all about and he said that he had opened the box in the car and they saw what it was. A red, men's rip away bikini!

I was stationed at a training base in Mississippi as officer stationed at the Regional Hospital also on the base and had just a few months before put on my Captains Bars. My husband is a minister and he was called by a friend to help a young lady who was in serious distress. She had been in an abusive situation at her home and she managed to get just enough money to take a bus to the base. With only 1 suitcase and a baby on her hip, no money in her pocket, and a completely lost sheep look, she began to seek out her husband for help.

Well, as these things tend to go, she could get nowhere. No one would let get within a mile of her Hubby - as he was still unable to chew gum without proper permission, in triplicate. Well, my dear husband interviewed her and determined that she needed a place to live, a cupboard of food, and the knowledge that her husband was somewhere near. What was needed was for someone with just enough authority to have a few Senior Airmen decide that the First Shirt needed to be bothered. Unfortunately, a crying wife on the other end of a phone line didn't fit the bill. So, my dear hubby, picked me up after my shift, with me dressed in my normal dress blues and explained who the young lady and baby in the back seat were and what he needed me to do.

Well, I didn't think it would be a problem to flash the new bars on my lapels and hope to do a wee bit of good. Well, my husband drives across base and parks in the dormitory area. I emerge from the car, put on my hat, and BOOM - someone yells out.... ATTENTION!

Everyone, as far as the eye could see, myself included, snapped to attention in a manner I had never seen before. Through the corners of my eyes, I looked for whomever had such rank as to command this quality of response. It slowly dawned on me that I was THAT source. I had no clue what to do. I could feel my heartbeat... over and over and over. Then it hit me and I mumbled out "as you were."

Never in my life had I received such respect. Doors were open and people volunteered to lead me through the catacombs of the Dorm Building to the CQ. Always with a flurry of salutes. There, a quick phone call was made and within minutes an out of breath First Shirt and Airman Basic appeared. Taking the First Shirt aside I explained to him the young airman's and his wife dilemma and asked if it was within his power to see her safely housed and taken care of... and (in a burst of intuition) added, thus allowing the Airman to concentrate on his responsibilities.

Given assurances that he "would see to it personally" I thanked him and made good my escape Well, within four or five hours, we received word, from the First Shirt that she was safe in a furnished apartment with a cupboard full of food, and a bus schedule so that she could visit her hubby (under very specific circumstances).

Me, I was sitting at home with an Ice Pack on my right upper Arm. I hadn't saluted that much in my previous four years in the Military as I did in that hour. I felt pretty good about myself but did manage to extract from my dear Hubby that we would never go within a mile of that of that part of the base again, while I was in uniform.

While in basic training some of the trainees would sneak sodas at night. Well one night my friend brought me a soda. I was really tired so I decided to take a sip and throw it out in the morning so I sat it in my wall locker. The next morning I put it in my cargo pocket and forgot all about it when we were going to some training exercise. I began to notice some brown liquid all over the floor. But I did not realize it was coming from me. It was just my luck that two drill sergeants called me over to them. I noticed that the brown liquid was following me. So I tried to casually wipe up the mess with my hand. When the drill sergeants asked me what that was I was wiping up I said I didn't know. They must have believed me because the dismissed me. But one drill sergeant stopped me. and asked what was in my pocket? I replied a can. He asked a can of what. Needless to say I was in big trouble and to this day I don't drink soda.

One fine Saturday morning before inspection I started counting coat hangers. I had about ten more than were allowed. I didn't have time to take them from the third floor down to the dumpster. Everyone else had their quota and had room for no more. I was stuck, I thought of putting them out the window, but figured they would be seen. I was wearing my stiffly starched PT uniform. I stuffed them up the back of my skirt, stood the whole inspection afraid they would fall when I came to attention. Much to my delight they stayed put undetected for the length of the inspection. I was a nervous wreck. Everyone in my end of the barrack burst out laughing when the platoon Sgt. left and I removed the hangers from my skirt.

I'm a Captain in the Air Force, but my fondest memory from officer basic was an experience with the Army. It was a hot summer day at Ft Bragg. I was at Air Force field training, but we had the good fortune to be one of two camps who participated in Ft Bragg Recondo training. We learned how to make a raft from two forty pound ruck sacks, ran around yelling "RECONDO!" and basically had a great time. It was a lot of fun, although it did confirm for me that I made the right decision to join the Air Force, since mud really isn't my thing.

Sometime around noon, my flight moved over to the rappelling tower. I had been rappelling before, and I enjoy it, so I was looking forward to this. I made my seat from a piece of rope, climbed up the 50 foot wooden tower, and hooked in to the ropes. "Recondo Schwartz requests permission to rappel!" I shouted. "On Belay!"

The PFC at the top of the tower decided to have some fun with me, which at the time I didn't figure out until it was too late. "Recondo Schwartz!" he yelled to me, as I progressed down the tower. "Your feet are too low!"

Since he was supposed to be teaching me, I obediently climbed my feet up the tower.

Again, I climbed up my feet. Eventually I climbed them up much too high, and I wound up swinging by my waist about 40 feet over the ground. Once I realized that I was safe, which took all of ten seconds, I began trying to get my feet back on the tower. It was then that I noticed that the PFC at the top of the tower was in hysterics watching me swing freely back and forth with my head pointed toward the ground. It was then that I figured out he had been playing with me, and I started to laugh. The full blown laughter that transforms itself into the giggles. So now, not only was I hanging upside-down from a rope, swinging 40 feet in the air, but I had absolutely no motor control because I was laughing so hard that my sides ached and tears streamed down my face.

I think I must have hung there for about 2 or 3 minutes before I was able to stop laughing enough to get my feet back on the tower and jump to the ground. I haven't done any "real soldiering" since that summer, but whenever I put on my BDU's, or see Ft. Bragg mentioned on the news, I still remember that PFC grinning down at me as I swung helplessly from a rope laughing hysterically.

Long before the phrase became famous, " READ MY LIPS" was a favorite of a Platoon Sgt. of ours, usually when he frustrated with us. One very unpleasant day, Sgt.F was extremely unhappy with the male members of the platoon and hollered out for the females to "COVER YOUR EARS"..... to which a woman beside me answered,..."That won't work anymore Sgt. F, you taught us to read lips.".

Well all war stories, start with: "No Sh_ _ , there I was" ... assigned as the Manifest Officer for the Battalion's Deployment for Reforger. A simple job really - just make sure everyone gets on the appropriate aircraft. I was looking hard core with all that gear hanging off me and the weapon hanging down at my side but as I always did for field exercises, underneath I wore a lacy bra... my secret !! I always kept a part of my femininity when in uniform.

My memory is growing foggy but ...we stopped for a few hours in Iceland. Finally it was time to continue our journey.. like going on a trip with a vanload of kids, everyone suddenly had to make a pit stop before loading.... Finally, I checked everyone off of the list on my handy dandy camouflage clipboard. (I certainly looked official, I'm sure.) Everyone, that is, except my boss, the S-3. (Last out of the bathroom :)) Although he hadn't checked with me at our original point of departure to make sure that everyone was accounted for, he decided to make sure this time. I had just briefed the S-1. So he came over to me and more formal than usual, asked for a briefing. I started giving it to him then stopped when I noticed a funny grin on his face... "Is there something wrong, Sir?" I asked. "Uhhh Captain.." he began slowly, " what is that... that... thing sticking out from the top of your T shirt?" I looked down and to may dismay I saw that the lace from my bra was showing... apparently with all the gear I was wearing, I couldn't feel that it had become unattached... Fortunately, I thought quick and just said it was a chemise I always wore to help pad my chest when we wore heavy gear. I was able to pull it down nonchalantly.....and had to be watchful that it wouldn't come up again until I could rehook.

In 1986, I was stationed at Ft. Hood, Texas. I had been trying to stop smoking as the new rules of no smoking in government buildings was about to go into affect. Being the rank of a mere PFC, I was low man on the totem pole! I tried the nicorette gum, but that wasn't enough,,, I decided to go with a "tootsie pop," -- the suckers with the tootsie roll inside. I was walking down the sidewalk back to the S-4 section, when an officer popped around the building,,,, I had papers in one hand, and a tootsie pop in the other..... without even thinking of what I was doing, I whipped out my salute and hit myself in the head with the tootsie pop! I was so embarrassed, thought for sure, I'm in trouble now!!! But amazingly the officer burst out laughing, causing me in turn to laugh, and I was then able to rearrange what I had in hand, whipped out a proper salute, apologize and head on my merry way,,,,,the officer returned the salute while he was still cracking up about me cracking myself in the head with a sucker! I decided to get rid of the suckers after that, and was never able to quit smoking!

I remember the timeframe (1986ish) when the new no-smoking rules were going to be implemented in government buildings. My boss, a brand new lieutenant colonel, smoked like a chimney. Neither I nor any of my counterparts who worked for the LtCol smoked. Naturally, we hated having meetings in our boss's office because we had to endure his smoking. One day, on the way out, one of the bolder lieutenants in our small group said: "What are you going to do when the military says you can't smoke in your office anymore?" The LtCol looked at us with a forlorn look and said: "I guess I'll have to quit." The four of us walked out and didn't say a word and we never knew if our boss meant he'd have to quit smoking or quit the military.

Any permanent party military member who has ever been stationed at a training base knows to stay clear of the post office at lunchtime. Inevitably, this is when the masses of trainees make a mad dash to check their mailbox, and for an officer this can mean endless saluting. I sat in my car once in front of the post office and watched a group of enlistees (about twelve of them) stagger themselves in a long line with just enough distance so that one unfortunate second lieutenant had to raise his arm in a return salute for each and every one! It was hysterical. And I bet that lieutenant never returned to the post office at lunchtime again.

After returning to the United States following a three year assignment in Germany, in 1993, I experienced credit card culture shock. In Germany, using cash to purchase goods on the economy was standard practice; credit cards were not as commonly used compared to the United States. I encountered this cultural difference during my first visit to an off-base grocery store, outside Sheppard AFB, Texas. At the checkout counter, the cashier asked me, "Plastic or paper?" Stunned that I could use a credit card in the grocery store, I surprisingly replied, "I'll pay with cash." She gave me a dumbfounded look, as I proudly stood there in my Air Force service dress uniform, and repeated, "Plastic or paper?" Again, I responded, "I'll pay with cash." Then she curtly replied, "Captain, I'm asking how you want your groceries bagged; in plastic or paper."

Laughter in the Military

Tell us about your humorous experiences in the military.