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Humor in Uniform

Page 5

by Editors of Reader's Digest


  I was in the band at Ellsworth Air Force Base, South Dakota. Our group was required to play for all generals who arrived on base. So one morning, when our commanding officer heard on the radio that a General Frost was expected just after noon, he sent us scrambling to the flight line with our instruments. Turns out one of the musicians had also heard the radio announcement. He took the C.O. aside for a whispered conference. When they returned, the officer told us the performance was canceled. There was no arriving general—we had almost played for the weather forecast.

  — DAVID YOST

  One morning a helicopter crew from my squadron got an order to pick up a mental patient and deliver him to an aircraft carrier. The passenger boarded the copter unescorted, but when it landed on the carrier, four Marines charged in, restrained the bewildered passenger and unceremoniously delivered him to the ship’s doctor. Then the flight crew received another message: “Replace mental patient with dental patient.” The poor guy had a toothache.

  — MICHAEL KVICALA

  When my father, a retired Marine, and I were visiting the PX at Camp Lejeune, N.C., we saw his friend, a retired sergeant major, who was continually looking up from his wristwatch. “What are you up to?” my father asked him. “I’ve been standing here for twenty-eight minutes,” his buddy replied, “and not one Marine has come through these doors in full uniform. I’ll give fifty dollars to the first Marine who comes in dressed with spit and polish.” Within seconds, a private walked into the PX decked out in his full uniform. Pleased, the sergeant major presented him with the money and asked him about his impeccable appearance. The private lowered his eyes and replied, “I’ve just come from my court-martial, sir.”

  — TERRY MCGUIRE

  During reservists’ training, my commanding officer was briefing his colleagues on the battalion’s mission. While he was highlighting the key objectives of our task—serious business, aimed at motivating the troops—he was suddenly interrupted by a ringing cell phone. The tune? “Mission Impossible.”

  — SAMUEL HENRY

  There was a high volume of new recruits when I joined the Army. Instead of using our names, we were called by ID numbers. On the second day of reception, a group of new privates awaited instructions. Suddenly a sergeant burst into the room and yelled, “Hey, you, Private!” We all stared, unsure whom he was talking to. Annoyed, the sergeant stepped up to the intended private and shouted, “You!” “Hey,” she protested, “I have a number!”

  — KAMI HOLLIDAY

  During basic training at Lackland AFB in Texas, our flight crew marched back to the barracks after receiving our coveted dress-blue uniforms. Our boots were tied to the duffel bags strapped to our backs. As we marched, one airman called out to the drill instructor, “Sir, permission to adjust. My boots keep kicking me in the butt.” “Permission denied,” the instructor replied. “Those boots are doing exactly what I’ve been dying to do since day one!”

  — ANTHONY MCCORD

  My father, an Army major, was conducting a field test when communications went dead. Immediately, he jumped into a jeep and ordered a sergeant to speed to the command station. When my father and the sergeant ran in, the group there cheered their arrival. The commanding officer then stepped forward and shook my father’s hand. “Don’t congratulate me, sir,” my father said modestly as he pointed to his driver. “It was all the sergeant’s doing.” The commanding officer nodded and turned to the sergeant. “Congratulations,” he said. “The major’s wife just had a baby girl.”

  — DIANE DUDMAN

  The Home Front

  While my husband was stationed overseas, our four-year-old daughter decided that she needed a baby brother. “Good idea,” I told her. “But don’t you think we should wait till your father’s home?” Lori had a better idea. “Why don’t we just surprise him?”

  — KAY SCHMIDT

  Few people know what a quartermaster does. So during my aircraft carrier’s Family Day, I demonstrated a procedure called semaphore—I grabbed my flags and signaled an imaginary boat. When finished, I pointed to a little girl in front and asked, “Now do you know what I do?” “Yes,” she said. “You’re a cheerleader.”

  — DANNY SULLIVAN

  Early in my marriage, I found it hard to get used to the strict rules of Marine life. One time my husband’s sergeant suggested he have me wake up at 5:00 A.M., then drive him to another base to pick up a truck they needed. Ashamed to admit it, Steven told his superior that I’d probably be unwilling to help. “She’s not a team player, is she?” his sergeant asked. “No,” Steven replied. “She’s not even a fan.”

  — KELLY DAVIS KING

  * * *

  Our son, who’s in the Army stationed in Georgia, invited my husband and me for a visit. After driving endlessly through unfamiliar streets in search of an entrance to Fort Stewart, my husband, suddenly said, “We’re getting close.” “How do you know?” I asked. He pointed to a sign that read:

  “Sonny’s Bar-B-Q. Tank Parking Available.”

  — WILMA J. FLEMING

  * * *

  My family and I had just arrived at a Naval air station in Texas after a tour in Japan. We met another new couple at the base who had been staying in a hotel with their six kids. Since we had already rented a large home, we told them they could stay with us for a few days. “And don’t worry about the kids,” my wife said. “We have futons for them.” “Oh, don’t go to any trouble,” the wife said. “They eat anything.”

  — ROBERT J. DOUGHER

  As a young married couple, my husband and I lived in a cheap housing complex near the base where he was stationed. Our chief complaint was that the walls were paper-thin and that we had no privacy. This was painfully obvious one morning when my husband was upstairs and I was downstairs on the telephone. I was interrupted by the doorbell and went to greet my neighbor. “Give this to Lieutenant Gridley,” he said, thrusting a roll of toilet paper into my hands. “He’s been yelling for it for 15 minutes.”

  — GAIL GRIDLEY

  I once lived in Arizona near Fort Huachuca, an Army installation. Our street consisted mainly of mobile homes with small yards, but grass was difficult to grow in that climate, especially with the many children and dogs romping through the neighborhood. One lawn stood out, however. It was green and lush with neat rows of flowers. I was puzzled how the owner managed to do it until I noticed a sign in the yard. It read: “Danger—Minefield.”

  — ELLEN ZRELAK

  My brother, Tim, and I were both college students at Texas A & M University, where he was enrolled as a member of the Corps of Cadets, our school’s version of ROTC. One day while we were walking through our student center together, I saw an Air Force officer. Noting the eagle on his insignia, I asked Tim, who had not seen the officer, what you call a man with a bird on his shoulder. With a puzzled look, he replied, “A pirate?”

  — LINDA EVAN

  I had been married for only a week and was just learning about life as a military spouse when I went to the hospital at Randolph Air Force Base near San Antonio for a dental checkup. After the appointment, I took out my checkbook and asked the sergeant behind the counter to whom I should make the check payable. “Honey, this is the military,” she said. “We don’t take your money, we just take your husband.”

  — KATHY A. HEDRICK

  When faced with overseas duty, I tried to soften the blow of my departure by telling my children we’d be able to buy special things with the extra money I’d earn for the assignment, such as a new car or a vacation. After I’d been in Asia for about six months, I received a tape recording from my children. When my oldest son spoke, he recounted the promise I’d made and then added, “Dad, can you stay a little longer so we can get a new television set, too?”

  — LOWELL C. MULLINS

  My son, a private first class in the Army, was stationed in
Bosnia. He called home from his camp one day in good spirits. He said he had just finished a softball game and they didn’t even have to chase after the foul balls. “Why not?” I asked. “Because,” came a response no mother would want to hear, “the foul line is where the minefield begins.”

  — KAREN POND

  Last Halloween a civilian friend had me pick up his son from day care on the way home from my base. Signing him out, I felt something press against my back. I turned to see him painting on my camouflage uniform. “What are you doing?” I cried. “I like your tree costume,” the boy replied innocently. “But you need some red and yellow leaves.”

  — ADAM CARROLL

  Can You Cope?

  As a sergeant stationed at Andrews Air Force Base in Washington, D.C., I dated a communications sergeant for the 89th Airlift Wing. Frequently, because of last-minute mission requirements, our personal plans had to be changed. One day before my boyfriend and I were to attend a wedding, I came home to an interesting message on my answering machine: “Ma’am,” said a male voice, “this is the Andrews Command Post relaying a message from Sergeant Smith, who is traveling with the Secretary of State. He says he’s sorry, but he’s out of the country, and so the wedding is off.” After a pause, the operator continued in a concerned, unofficial tone, “I hope that’s okay, ma’am.”

  — BARBARA WEBER

  I was visiting my parents with my new husband, a Navy frogman, when he drew me aside. “I don’t think your mother likes me,” he said. “I was explaining that I can’t wear my wedding ring when I dive because barracudas are attracted to shiny things and might bite off my finger. And she said, ‘Well, can’t you wear it on a chain around your neck?’”

  — MARJORIE MANSON TELFORD

  “I can’t heeear you!”

  According to my mother, she and Dad decided to start a family soon after he became an officer in the Air Force. When months went by without success, they consulted the base physician, who chose to examine Mom right then and there. “Please disrobe,” he told her. “With him in the room?” she yelled, pointing to my father. Turning to Dad, the doctor said, “Captain, I think I found the problem.”

  — WINDLEY HOFLER WALDEN

  When my brother, John, joined the Marines about a year ago, friends and family told my mother not to worry, reassuring her that “at least it’s during peacetime.” On September 11, when terrorists attacked our country, John was stationed in Japan. My mother, upon hearing the news, didn’t panic. Instead, she headed to the nearest recruiting office. When a recruiter came to the desk and asked if she needed help, she responded, “Yes—I need to hug a Marine!”

  — JULIANNE STARE

  My father, an engineer on a submarine, was often out at sea for family occasions. As a result, he sometimes forgot about them. One year he missed my mother’s birthday. Unfortunately, it was impossible for her to tell him how furious she was since the Navy screened all messages, editing out anything that could be considered disturbing to the men on board. However, my mother was not so easily defeated. She sent my dad a message, thanking him profusely for the lovely birthday present he so kindly remembered to send her. Mom went on about how special Dad had made her feel by his thoughtfulness, and how grateful she was for his generosity.

  — ALEXIS ANDREWS

  I work on a navy base in Maryland, across the Patuxent River from my home. When the bridge was closed for repairs, the base provided ferryboats for personnel. After I got to work one morning, my wife, pregnant with twins, called to say that she had forgotten her house key and was locked out. I told her I’d give my key to a sailor working on the ferry, and he could bring it to her at the Navy annex across the river. I explained the situation to a sailor at the marina and told him he’d have no problem recognizing my wife. “She’s short, blond and very pregnant,” I said. “Buddy,” the sailor exclaimed, “this is a Navy base. You’ll have to be more specific!”

  — PIERRE CONLEY

  Marine boot camp was a learning experience for my son. Among the more gruesome skill sets he picked up, he wrote in a letter to the family, was how you can kill a man 12 ways using only your bare hands. This prompted my nephew to wonder aloud, “How does he practice?”

  — KELLY SCHACKMAN

  A couple of summers ago, our son Scott and his family relocated to Eielson Air Force Base near Fairbanks, Alaska. In awe of the state’s wildlife and natural beauty, they looked forward to their four-year tour. That December we received an e-mail from our 11-year-old granddaughter that stated her opinion pretty clearly. It read “Dear Grandma and Grandpa: It is 24 degrees below zero here today. We have three years and eight months left. I love and miss you. Leah.”

  — BEVERLY BAHNUB

  My wife was sitting in the cockpit of my fighter jet— her head spinning as I pointed to the myriad buttons, levers and switches on the control panel. “Do you really know what each one of these buttons does?” she asked. “Yep,” I said proudly. Scowling, she then asked, “And I’m supposed to believe you can’t figure out how to run the washing machine?”

  — MATT DIETZ

  Feeling thoroughly sorry for myself after being transferred clear across the continent to Spokane, Washington, I reached out to the one person I knew would sympathize: my mother. “Dear Mom,” I wrote, “I have no money and no friends.” “Dear Bill,” she wrote back. “Make friends.”

  — WILLIAM SOLOMON

  When my father enlisted in the Air Force, he left his church in the capable hands of my mother. Nevertheless, one member of his flock took it upon herself to put Dad’s mind at ease. “Pastor, the church is doing well,” she wrote. “Your wife is carrying on with the deacons.”

  — LORA MAE MILLER

  * * *

  During Desert Storm, one of our co-workers was called to serve in Iraq. Upon his safe return and arrival back at work, we tied yellow ribbons around numerous trees and hung a huge sign that read:

  “We missed you . . . thank God the Iraqis did, too!”

  — BILLIE MCCRACKEN

  * * *

  We Do Our Best

  If I say so myself, I looked pretty brawny in my Navy summer whites. And as I stood in line at the Long Beach Naval Hospital pharmacy, I wasn’t the only one who thought so—a young boy kept staring at my arms. Eventually, he whispered something to his mother, who, in turn, leaned over to me. “My son wants to know,” she said, “if you have a can of spinach in your shirt.”

  — LOY MCDONALD

  After spending a wonderful week together, my fiancé dropped me off at the airport and returned to his base. I didn’t realize how much I’d miss him until I reached the plane and burst into tears. “What’s the matter?” asked the unlucky woman seated next to me. Between sobs I told her the sad story of my long-distance relationship. “If you truly love him, it will work,” she said. “I know. My ex-husband was in the Army.”

  — ABBY KIESER

  As a member of the organization that installs computer systems aboard Navy ships, I am mindful of how important the off-ship e-mail capabilities are to sailor morale, especially when some vessels are deployed for up to six months. One day while shopping at the base commissary, I realized another crucial aspect of my job. I was trailing a frazzled mother with two active children, and I watched as she stalked over to where her young son had perched himself on the rail of the freezer case. “If you don’t get off there right now,” she commanded, “I’m going to e-mail your father!”

  — GREGORY MARTIN

  It was a very emotional time for me—my youngest son was about to leave for basic training. I took the day off so we could spend his last day as a civilian together. My son likes to pass himself off as a tough guy, but as we climbed into the car, he blurted out in a halting, sad voice, “I’m going to miss you.” Well, I just about lost it. The tears flowed from my eyes as I turned to say how much I was
going to miss him too. That’s when I saw that he was addressing a can of Pepsi he’d just opened.

  — SUE STRUTHERS

  My husband wore his Army uniform with pride. One day, coming home from the base and dressed in his olive drab fatigues, he stopped off at the grocery store to pick up a few things. While on line at the checkout counter, he noticed a little boy standing with his mother. The boy took one look at my husband in his uniform, and his eyes grew wide. My husband, in turn, gave the young man a crisp salute. The boy was so excited. He pointed at my husband and announced, “Look, Mom, a giant Boy Scout.”

  — BERNICE QUENTAL

  My family wanted to do something to honor my nephew, a Ranger with the Army’s 101st Airborne, who had been sent to Iraq. So, with the help of her four-year-old grandson, Chandler, my sister tied a yellow ribbon on the tree in her front yard. “Why are we doing this, Grandma?” Chandler asked. “It’s for your uncle,” she said. As he watched his grandmother attach the bow, Chandler remarked quietly, “A tree’s not much of a present.”

  — DIANE L. OLWIN

  During a promotion celebration for my husband, his father, an old Army colonel, introduced himself to the rear admiral in charge by saying, “I’ve never shaken hands with a rear admiral, and a female rear admiral at that!” He was stunned when she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, saying, “Betcha never been kissed by one either!”

  — MARIANNE MANN

  Reservists like myself always had a hard time parking on base, as most spaces were set aside for the brass. My wife never had this problem. I finally found out why after she drove me to the PX and parked in a space marked “Reserved.” “See?” she said. “Just look at all the spaces they’ve set aside for you Reserves.”

  — JAMES KLEEMAN

 

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