I'd like to open a thread for the folks who have served to discuss some of the funny things that they experienced while serving.
I'll go first: At the end of my PLDC course (Army, Primary Leadership Development Course) we went on a field training exercise to practice the stuff we'd learned in class. We consisted of two platoons in full kit... rucksack, weapons, ammo (blank), some simunitions, MILES gear etc. The intent was to have each platoon conduct an infantry assualt, taking turns as aggressor/defender. As darkness was settling in, our platoon moved into the area where we intended to make camp, someone managed to trip over a sizeable log in the darkness. I was some ways away but I could hear the thump of someone hitting the log and falling down. A number of individuals attempted to help this person, and in general, the core of our platoon was in that immediately area. The screams began almost simultaneously... I heard someone cry out, "OMFG! Beesssss!!!!" There followed a subsequent stream of choice four letters words from various members of my platoon, and then the sound of boots crashing thru the woods. From my vantaged point of being slightly down hill, I could see this cascade of soldiers, loaded down with all sorts of gear & heavy weapons, running down the hill, screaming, swatting, and otherwise failing around. Of course we E&E'd to a point to were the medics could treat the wounded. I was left amazed that for all our firepower (though simulated) we were rendered combat-ineffective in less than 30 seconds by the smallest of foes.
I was at Cherry Point Air Station in NC inspecting an armory prior to deployment, and was driving past the flight line and noticed a young Marine behind a CH-46 waving a trash bag in the air. Walked into the armory and asked the SSgt what was going on, and he laughed and said that they had a new guy check in that day. They sent him out on the tarmac to get exhaust samples from the helo. We also would send new check-ins down to the AAV, "docks" in the bay, to get 500 yards of shoreline. But the best one was when we were out in the field at Lejeune. came back from a patrol and saw two PFCs sitting around a box of chem-lights breaking them and shaking them, looking at them then throwing them into a pile. Over out of the way, two SSgts were sittting laughing looking at them through NVGs. They had told the PFCs to check all the chem-lights to see if they worked, and to throw away the ones that didn't light up. What they didn't tell them was, they were IR chem-lights. Another good one is to send a guy to the motor pool to get the keys to the CO's hummer. Or over to supply to get batteries for the chem lights. or send the new guy to supply to get a BA1100N with a ST ring attached.
In the 82nd Airborne Division, we always sent the new guy up to Battalion HQ to get the keys for Area-J. (Area J being one of the main training areas on post, miles n miles of it)
Not a military experience, but when I worked in the Paint Fascists Warehouse, we used to send the new guys to aisle EJ... the warehouse ended at EH. Or we'd send 'em after paint thickener. Or paint dryer. My favorite when I was doing damage recovery was to drop a paint paddle into an old 55 gallon drum of waste latex paint (which STINKS) and tell the new guy he had to get it out. Most of them ended up with thick, stinky paint all the way up to their armpits.
When I was in basic training at Ft. Knox, I found a good way to make things a little better was not to put water in my canteen. I added as much ice as I could and topped it off with rum and a little Coke. One day, while walking someplace, our drill sergeant, who carried an empty canteen, came up to me and asked for a drink. I tried to talk him out of it, but he pretty much insisted... So, I handed him my canteen, fully expecting my military career to come crashing down around my head. He took a big slug. Coughed a couple of times. Gave me a funny look. Took another really big slug and handed it back without saying a word. From then on, he frequently asked for a drink from my canteen... There was a black guy in our platoon who was also from Louisville. He emptied his canteen one day and I offered him a drink from mine. He looked a little surprised, as this was the early 60s, but he seemed appreciative. While talking, we discovered we lived close to each other. He mentioned he was the war leader or war general or something like that of his gang, and told me if I ever had a problem in the neighborhood, to mention his name. He said he would put out the word my family was "under his protection". Not sure what that really meant, but unlike most of our neighbors, we never had a break-in or any other problems until we moved a few years later. So......? Later, after OCS, I had this sergeant... He had a CIB with four stars, an airborne badge with five, he was a pathfinder, a jungle warfare expert, a WWII Ranger and, in his Class As, you could barely see his chest for all the ribbons! One hell of a man!!!!! I never opened my mouth without checking first with him... Ah yeah... The good old days!
When I was stationed at El Toro we sent a PFC out to get some "prop wash". So, of course, every one kept him running around for the day. He was even sent up to Tustin Air Field. No luck there either. That was the last anyone had heard form him for the next 2 days. On the third day paper work was being filled out to charge him with UA, when he shows up at lunch time. It seems that he had eventually found his way up to Edwards Air Force Base, where he was able to acquire two 5 gallon buckets of WWII era Prop Wash. The UA charge was torn up, mission accomplished. When my dad was stationed in K-Bay, HI, I watched a squad of Force Recon push start a CH-53 helicopter. The pilot had the Recon squad push the 53 down the flight line, when they got it rolling good he hit the igniters a couple of times. About the fourth time he finally started the APE, (Auxiliary Power Engine). They were all hollering, cheering, & high five’ing. I'm standing in the doorway to the power plants shop, LMAO. I was 13 years old at the time.
Here are a couple more, ID 10 T Form, ASH Receiver, and we would send Avionics cherries out to get voltage readings on the "vortex generators".
Not military, but at an auto parts warehouse that my family used to own we had our ways of playing with new guys. We sent a new driver to Harley of Memphis to pickup a left door handle for a '79 Sportster. I called ahead and told a friend there what was going on. After my driver waited there for 30 minutes, my friend told him that he didn't have one to try Memphis Motorcycle Co. He called ahead and told a friend of his there to play along. After four hours and six motorcycle dealers, someone finally told him to think about what he looking for. I sent one teenager who was driving part time durring the summer to the gas station to change the air in his tires, that he needed to take the spring air out and put fresh air in for the summer. A customer walked in and asked if that was my driver he saw. When I said yes, he said "Good. When he told me what he was doing, I told him not to forget the spare." We had a customer that would always call for parts that don't exist (VW Bug radiators, muffler bearings, etc) when we had a new counter person. He called one day for a muffler bearing, so I pulled a 10 foot length of exhaust pipe, a universal muffler, and a drive shaft support bearing out of inventory. I ran an invoice for $5000 that had the description of misc item, muffler bearing. I then took the parts to a nearby shop that was a good customer, who pressed the bearing onto one end of the muffler then welded the 10 foot pipe to the other. I called and told him his part was on the way, and had a driver deliver it. Then there was the delivery van that would run run out of gas, even though the guage still showed 1/2 tank.
Non-Military and Second Hand Anyhow, my roommate used to work a parts store in south Georgia. They sent the new kid out for some left-handed screwdrivers. He was gone for about half the day before he finally came trudging back in, with the screwdrivers. Apparently he ended up at some knockoff hardware store that stocked screwdrivers ergonomically designed for left hand use. This is the same roommate that (halfway) considered designing a muffler bearing into a race car. The muffler was unsupported and the only nearby structure to brace it by was the drive shaft, which would have required a bearing. (We moved the exhaust to a different exit point.)
Young PFC comes running up to me and says- Sgt.B, I'm looking for a PRICK E 5-- I hold my bearing and I yell-- Well you sure as @#$% found one, now get the @@#$% outa here!!! In shock he responds Yes Sir! I then kindly explain -- STOP!!!! What the @@#@%$% did you call me ? Do I look like a @@#$$% Sir to you? Get outa here!! At that moment he remembered what an E5 is. I miss those days.
I was with my Guard unit in '94 when Alberto came through. We were activated to provide security & relief to Montezuma, GA. We show up, in full riot, get off the bus and into formation. We march into the downtown area and halt formation next to a large truck that loaded down with cases of 12 oz cans bearing the Anheusier Busch logo. One of our guys, who had an extra special relationship with alcohol, immediately broke formation, grabbed a can, opened it and literally sucked down the contents in one pull. Almost immediately after he began this, he violently expelled the contents onto the ground in front of him, looked at the can, and exclaimed, "S***! It's water!" AB routinely donates canned water to crisis area. It is canned right here in Cartersville.
A shipmate of mine was on summer cruise with a P-3 squadron in Japan and one day they had him out "testing some sensors" on the aircraft by having him wave this 80 lb sono-bouy up and down in front of the aircraft's nose. After they got done laughing at him they expressed their surprise in the fact that he was able to manhandle something like that so well. The Navy has a few other little pranks that they like to pull on new guys including having them fetch batteries for the sound-powered phones, get the keys to the ship so they can start her up, and locating a steam blanket for the engine. C
Here's one that brings back memories and probably dates me ...just a bit. We were part of an exchange program, bringing in officers from other NATO countries and doing the whole interoperability schtick. If I remember correctly, our exchangee was Belgian, a young Leiutennant. One day they were giving a mission briefing at batallion headquarters and it went a bit like this.... "CSC (combat support company) will have 2 aircraft and divide it's mules between......" "Alpha Co's A-33 sheep is down until the exercise is started. It's load will be on the Alpha-12 goat.." Our exchangee, looked confused and spoke up, asking why, if we were the most modern Army in the world, were we still using mules and goats... didn't we have trucks? Right about then it was decided that a little briefing would be in order as to our Table of Organization and Equipment: Mules were the M274 Mechanical Mule; essentially a 4x8 plaform with lawn mower engine that carried a half ton payload. Goats were M561 Gama Goats... a 'semi amphibious' 6-wheel drive articulated cab/trailer combination. Sheeps were M151 Mutt's (I have Never heard it referred to as a mutt, even to this day) aka. the ubiquitous Jeep.
The stories from basic are the best. It was about the 3rd week into basic training and my flight was doing KP (kitchen patrol). My job was to stand at the counter where everyone dropped off their used trays, plates, bowls, and utensils, seperate them, and give them to the next guy in the line who washed them. Everything was going smooth and everything. We even had one TI compliment us on doing such a good job (that was like a rarity in basic). At the end of the day they were cleaning out the dessert carrasels. So they put the bowls of uneaten desserts into the window at the counter for me to start the cleaning process. So what do I do? I take my gloves off and put my hand into the bowls and get as much as I can and put it into my mouth. That was the best dessert I ever ate. Of course I tried sharing it with some other guys behind the counter but they were too scared, bunch of wusses. Another one in basic, about a week later I got recycled back to another flight a week behind the first one I was in because I failed a locker inspection. Apparently my stuff wasn't perfect enough for them. Well I put my clothes into big ziplock bags and pushed all the air out to keep them pretty much straight, to keep from having to refold them. Well I'm unpacking at the dorm of my new flight and all the other trainees are around me. I pull out my clothes and start straightening them out. One of the guys says, "Man your clothes looks so good and neat." I looked up at him and I said, "Mother f*&$a I got recycled." Them was good times.
What makes this especially funny is that the casualty in this case probably never questioned that he was being set up. The AN/PRC-77 or any other radio with the PRC nomenclature, were referred to as 'prick' devices. A 'PRICK-E-5' could be any sort of radio. Sounds like he got a message out of that one!
I was never in the service, but I was in the Marine Corps JRROTC for 4 years during High School back in the mid-80's. Every spring, we'd take a week long field trip to one of the Marine Corps bases - Parris Island, Camp LeJune, or Quantico. Either my Junior or Senior year (don't remember which) we visited Quantico (or maybe it was Camp LeJune...I can't remember which these days) and one morning we mustered outside in our fatigues, and were sent to the Hand Grenade Training Course. We were paired off, and given instructions of what to do. This was in a wooded area, and they had all sorts of obstacles to "take out" using dummy hand grenades (ie - real grenade body, with hole drilled in bottom, no explosive, but it did have a real detonator - just made a loud "bang" when used). Now, I wasn't a small teenager. Neither was the guy I was paired with. We were both over 6', and about 180# or so, each. One of the instructions given us was if we miffed a grenade throw, and it "went off" near one of us, that one was to act injured, and the other had to fireman-carry the injured one out. Well, all was going well until we got to the "bunker" which was made mostly of sandbags, with a small slit opening where a machine gun would usually be sticking out. Our job was to run up on either side, put our backs against it, pull the pin on the grenade, and each of us toss one through the machine gun slit. So...we did... ...unfortunately, one of us didn't quite get it right, and the grenade just rolled around the slit...and then fell at our feet and went off...."killing" us both. We just looked at each other, looked around to see if anybody noticed (they didn't), shrugged, and I picked up the expended grenade and slid it back into the bunker's slit and made sure it went inside. Then we both nonchalantly walked away, hands in pockets, whistling...
Building on Asbrand's grenade story... I recall two adventures with grenades in basic... all in the same day. We were issued two training grenades (grenades with holes drilled in bottom, live primer/blasting cap). I was sitting on the top bleacher with a numbnut who decided he wanted to fiddle with his grenade... kept grasping it, turning over like it was... his precious... and the pin slips out and falls eight feet to the ground. So while this dude sits there gripping the grenade, I shimmy down to the ground, avoiding detection from the drill sergeants and retrieve the pin. Later, after we had completed our training, we were policing up our spent grenades... I had been fascinated by how the mechanism worked so I found myself picking up expended grenades, finding a spoon, cocking the striker and putting the spoon back on, inserting the pin... then pulling the pin, releasing the spoon, watching it fly... rinse, repeat... When I got bored of this I re-cocked the grenade... walked up to a group of my buds, asked one of them to hold out their hand. I quickly pulled the pin, let the spoon fly so he could see it and set the grenade in his hand, hole side down. Startled, he tossed the grenade from his hand... when I told him it was a dud, he cursed me, the other guys praised me. oh, to be young again.
I had lots of fun as a sentry at the gates. People would drive up and ask when one of the other gates would close. I'd tell them it'd be open for another hour, knowing that it was closed and that they'd have driven about an extra mile and a half to a closed gate and would have to go to the one on the other side of the base. The way our base was set up was that the main road went from the main gate all the way to the side gate. Sometimes people would drive up and ask how to get to the BX. Sometimes we'd tell them, "Just keep following this road you can't miss it." So they'd end up driving in one gate, all the way down to the other gate, and off the base. It's fun when people believe everything you say.