— DEREK SCHNEIDER
Eager to speak military English the way the pros do? Then remember this simple rule—the most basic word comes first. For example: Trousers, Green, Male; Truck, Cargo, 4x4. On a recent trip to the Air Force Academy commissary, I saw, written on the side of a large carton, yet another example: Melon, Water.
— JOSEPH R. SIMKINS
My office collects care packages of snack food and reading materials to be sent to the Army Reserve stationed in the Middle East. Among the suggestions for gifts was rat poison, apparently to deal with a persistent problem in their housing units. “That’s a first,” I said to my coworkers. “Now we’re sending packages to Afghanistan containing weapons of mouse destruction.”
— JOHN ALBRIGHT
At the canteen on base, we sold snacks, coffee and soda for 25 cents. One night, we decided to charge officers 50 cents. It was explained away as a “Sir charge.”
— ROBERT P. THORNE
In the Navy much of our time is spent at sea, drilling for emergencies. Once when our ship was conducting simulated combat exercises, a message came over the loudspeaker: “This is a drill, torpedo hit to starboard, all hand prepare to abandon ship—land bears 090 degrees, 11 miles. Running to my abandon-ship station, I was stopped by a young seaman, apparently on his first sea tour. “Excuse me,” he drawled,”but if we really had to swim for it, how would we deal with those bears?”
— RANDOLPH HERROLD
Our new commander was the gung-ho type, determined to shake things up on the base. No detail was too small, not even the IN and OUT trays on his desk. “Get rid of them,” he told me. “I don’t want them on my desk.” As the supply sergeant, I knew that the company clerks relied on those trays to process work. So I offered him an alternative, which he liked. After that, one tray read CHALLENGES and the other CONQUESTS.
— ALAN ANDERSON
Like many American soldiers stationed in Saudi Arabia, I had my picture taken as I sat on a camel. I figured it would be a good souvenir to send home. A few days later, some buddies and I were visiting a local town. When we returned to our vehicle, we found two young Saudis taking each other’s picture—sitting on our jeep.
— TOBIE W. JOHNSON
I didn’t realize how deep the inter-service rivalry between the Navy and the Marine Corps ran until just before my son’s birth. At a prenatal checkup, I asked my obstetrician, a Navy officer, what type of anesthesia he was planning to use. “You’re a marine officer’s wife, aren’t you?” he said. “Yes,” I answered. “Well, then,” he replied, “You get to bite on a silver bullet.”
— DALE EMKEN
On the Job
While my son, Cliff, was on board the Navy carrier USS George Washington, the air wing was busy with training missions. After talking to a pilot, one air-traffic controller accidentally left his microphone on and remarked to a nearby buddy, “That guy sounded just like Elmer Fudd.” The airwaves got strangely quiet as everyone listening realized the pilot had also heard the comment. After about ten seconds, the pilot broke the silence by announcing, “Be vewy, vewy quiet. We are hunting submawenes.”
— WAYNE ROBERTSON
Life on board an aircraft carrier is noisy, with jets, mechanical equipment and the dull roar of blowers circulating air. One night the ship had a massive power failure, and our berthing compartment became abruptly quiet. Everyone woke up with a start. One half-asleep seaman shouted, “What the heck was that!” From across the dark room came a voice, “That was silence, you idiot!”
— JAMES TODHUNTER
My job on our combat store ship was to make sure that the 21 three-ton forklifts on board were firmly secured and positioned to keep the ship on an even keel. One night I was told to report to the captain’s stateroom. After I knocked and entered, the captain silently folded his arms, lifted his feet, then pushed himself away from his desk on his chair, which was equipped with wheels. He slowly coasted across the room to the starboard side, then said, “Dismissed.” I took the hint and moved six forklifts to the port side.
— RICHARD E. KOONS
Doing tech support for the Navy, my husband is used to dealing with frustrated clients. So when a woman proceeded to spit out every curse word she’d ever heard, it didn’t faze Craig. Eventually she calmed down. “Pardon my French,” she said. Craig was sympathetic. “I’ve worked here a long time,” he said, “and the one thing I’ve noticed about the Navy is that everyone is fluent in French.”
— JENNIE PAGE
I was serving on a destroyer when we passed an old frigate off the coast of Bermuda. Looking through my binoculars, I was startled to see that the other ship was drifting into our path. Clearly it had come untethered from its anchor. I alerted my captain, who immediately contacted the frigate. “Have you lost your anchor?” he asked. The other captain responded, “No, sir. I know exactly where it is. It’s five miles back.”
— R. J. M. HARDY
While scrubbing the decks of our Coast Guard cutter on a scorching summer day, a few shipmates and I decided to break the rules and go for a swim. With no officers in sight, I scrambled atop a railing 40 feet above the water. Just as I leaned forward, I could see the captain step out on the bridge. Too late to stop, I did a picture-perfect dive into the ocean. When I had clambered back aboard, the captain was there to greet me. Fearing the worst, I was greatly relieved when he said, “I’ll give you a ten.” “Thanks, Captain,” I said. “I used to dive in college.” “I don’t mean a score of ten,” he spat back. “I mean ten days of restriction.”
— RUSTY JACKSON
The crew of a fast frigate was practicing the man overboard drill by “rescuing” a bright orange fluorescent dummy dubbed Oscar. The captain watched as a young lieutenant nervously stopped the ship, turned it and maneuvered into place. Unfortunately, he ran right over Oscar. Surveying the remains of Oscar scattered around the ship, the captain told the lieutenant, “Son, do me a favor. If I ever fall overboard, just drop anchor and I’ll swim to you.”
— ANTHONY WATSON
We were on our destroyer’s bridge when the captain noticed something wrong with our course. “I believe you’re out of position,” he told the junior officer. “Please come to the left a little.” So the officer took a step to the left. “I don’t think that’s far enough,” said the captain. So the officer stepped left again. “Perfect,” the captain said. “Now bring the ship with you.”
— FRANK COLLINS
The commander of the C-141 was in a hurry to fly out of the U.S. air base in Thule, Greenland. But everything was working against him. The truck to pump the sewage from the plane was late, and then the airman pumping out the tank was taking his time. The commander berated the lowly airman, threatening to have him punished. Turning to the officer, the airman said, “I have no stripes, it’s 40 degrees below zero, I’m stationed in Thule, and I’m pumping sewage out of airplanes. Just how do you plan on punishing me?”
— JAMES STILWELL
My daughter, Michelle, is the commander of a Coast Guard cutter. When she gave my husband, Bob, a tour of her ship, he was impressed with the neatness of all decks. However, when Michelle brought Bob to her house, he couldn’t believe the disorganization. “Why is everything in its place on your ship,” he asked, “but your house is such a mess?” Michelle replied, “My house doesn’t take 30-degree rolls.”
— MARY ANN SCHALLIP
Dead ahead, through the pitch-black night, the captain sees a light on a collision course with his ship. He sends a signal: “Change your course ten degrees east.” “Change yours ten degrees west,” comes the reply. The captain responds, “I’m a United States Navy captain! Change your course, sir!” “I’m a seaman second class,” the next message reads. “Change your course, sir.” The captain is furious. “I’m a battleship! I’m not changing course!” “I’m a lighthouse. Your
call.”
— SOURCE UNKNOWN
As a retired Air Force officer vacationing in Florida, I was playing a round of golf at Pensacola Naval Air Station with three Navy officers. I marveled at the splendid course, which included a tall white stake placed in each fairway to mark 150 yards to the green. At first I feared these markers would be distracting, but I soon found they helped me aim my shots. I mentioned to my companions that distance indicators at Air Force golf courses are flush to the ground, along the edges of the fairway. “Well,” one of my Navy friends remarked, “sailors play their best when they can see a mast on the horizon.”
— STEVE FISH
A shore-based officer, I had the opportunity to go aboard a Navy vessel for a week of training. On the first day we were pivoting into a slip on the pier, and the commanding officer patiently explained a variety of technical terms. Wanting to increase my shipboard vocabulary, I commented on the way we were pulling into port and asked the CO if there was a term to describe our maneuver. “Yes,” he answered. “We call it ‘backing up.’”
— TANYA L. WALLACE
While on patrol with the Coast Guard, we stopped to help a sailor whose boat was hung up on a sandbar. I asked the owner what had happened. He gave us a lengthy description of his boating experience, then explained that his navigational chart failed to show the sandbar. Skeptical, I asked to see the chart. It was actually a place mat from a seafood restaurant.
— LANCE HANNA
The seas were rough the day the transport ship carried us to Europe. As we pitched up and down, there wasn’t one soldier onboard who didn’t feel seasick. To take our minds off the bleak conditions, we were invited to see a movie. What film did the captain choose to calm our frayed nerves? The Caine Mutiny.
— ROGER COBURN
As a seaman aboard an aircraft carrier, it was my duty to make the morning coffee for my department. After a year of this, I felt a rush of relief when, on the day before my promotion, my department chief put his arm around my shoulder and said, “Rhodes, this will be the last day you’ll be making coffee as a seaman.” My heart sank, however, when he added, “Tomorrow will be your first day making it as a petty officer.”
— JOHN R. RHODES
After spending a few years on shore duty, I found myself back at sea trying to remember what all of the signal bells and whistles piped over the ship’s intercom meant. I was beginning to catch on again when I heard an unfamiliar beeping in the chief’s mess. “What’s that one?” I asked. When my coworkers finally stopped laughing, they informed me it was the microwave.
— MELANIE M. PATTERSON
“Don’t worry, ma’am. He left a trail.”
From the Mess
Once a week we were served steak at my base’s mess hall. The meat was so tough you could hardly chew it. When we complained to our colonel, he agreed to come to dinner with us to see for himself. Sure enough, the steak was tough as usual, but after the meal the colonel said nothing. A few days later he sent a memo to the sergeant in charge of the mess. It read: “Sharpen all knives immediately.”
— JOHN G. DAVIS
I wanted to make my mark as the new food-service officer at a recruit training center. The menu was loaded with red meat, so I devised a new one to reduce cholesterol. I substituted chicken for beef, and awaited comments from the suggestion box. The first one summed up the recruits’ feelings. It read simply, “Let the chickens live.”
— RAWLINS LOWNDES
Soon after our son’s ship returned to base after a six-month deployment, friends and family of the crew were given permission to tour the vessel. Lunch was served in the mess, and since I had never eaten Navy food, I decided to try a little taste of everything. As I approached some soggy-looking spinach, I pointed out to the sailor standing behind the counter, “There’s no serving spoon in the spinach.” “Ma’am,” he responded quite apologetically, “no one’s ever asked for the spinach before.”
— PATRICIA K. DOYLE
I was dishing out chow to the Marines at Cherry Point, North Carolina, when an irate gunnery sergeant slammed his tray on the counter and pointed to a cooked grass– hopper sitting on top of his spinach. “Look at that!” he barked. Motioning to the other Marines waiting in line, my boss, the mess sergeant, leaned over. “Keep it down, Sarge,” he whispered, “or else they’ll all want one.”
— RON PIRKLE
“Chow looks wonderful,” I told the mess sergeant, a large, intimidating man. “I’d love seconds.” “You’ll get the same as everyone else,” he growled as he chucked food on my tray. “Now move it!” After finishing the edible portion of my meal, I dumped the rest in the garbage, accidentally tossing out my silverware. While leaning into the trash can to look for my knife and fork, I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was the mess sergeant. “It’s all right, son,” he said. “You can grab seconds.”
— SCOTT POPE
* * *
A sign posted on the wall of an Army mess hall read:
“Don’t Waste Food—Food Will Win the War.”
Beneath these words someone had scrawled:
“That’s fine, but how do we get the enemy to eat here?”
— IRVING SCHIFF
* * *
While dining in the officers club at an air base in the Philippines, my wife and I lost our appetites when a rat scurried past us. “Waiter!” I said, pointing to the rodent. “What are you going to do about that?” “It’s all right, sir,” he said unfazed. “I’ve already confirmed he’s a club member.”
— KIRBY HUNOLT
I am a grocer’s nightmare. I pinch and squeeze each piece of fruit before making my choice. One day, at the base commissary, I was in my element, manhandling all the melons before finally settling on a perfect specimen. “Excuse me,” I heard, as I started for the tomatoes. It was my husband’s commanding officer. “Mind showing me which one was your second choice?”
— JACKI KECK
* * *
Distrustful of Army chefs’ culinary talents, my father quizzed the top cook at his base. How did he know when the food was ready to be served? Dad asked. “Easy,” said the sergeant, glaring back.
“When it’s burning, it’s cooking. When it’s smoking, it’s done.”
— BRIAN HENDRICKS
* * *
In Flight
As he reviewed pilot crash reports, my Air Force military science professor stumbled upon this understated entry: “After catastrophic engine failure, I landed long. As I had no power, the landing gear failed to deploy and no braking was available. I bounced over the stone wall at the end of the runway, struck the trailer of a truck while crossing the perimeter road, crashed through the guardrail, grazed a large pine tree, ran over a tractor parked in the adjacent field, and hit another tree. Then I lost control.”
— JOHN D. MILLARD
My uncle was a flight surgeon in the Air Force Reserve. Part of his training included practice runs with jet-fighter pilots. Sometimes they would have fun at his expense, performing aerial maneuvers in an attempt to make him sick. In the middle of one hair-raising turn, the pilot asked him how he was handling all of the flips and twists. “I’m fine,” replied my uncle calmly. “Just don’t forget, your physical is tomorrow.”
— DREW SMITH
I was proud and excited on my first day of Air Force pilot training as I walked toward the instruction facility. From a distance I could see large letters looming over the entrance: “Through these doors pass the best pilots in the world.” My pride was quickly deflated, however, as I reached the threshold and read the small, scribbled cardboard sign that had been taped to the glass by a maintenance worker. It said “Please use other door.”
— JAMES BIERYLA
Military guys can’t help debating which branch is the best. A friend was asked why he chose the Air Force ov
er the Navy. “Simple, really,” he said. “Whatever goes up must come down. But whatever goes down doesn’t necessarily have to come up.”
— JESSE DAVIS
Riding in a jet trainer for the first time was exhilarating. It was also frightening, especially when I began to think, What if we crash? “Excuse me,” I said to the pilot. “Is there anything I should know in case we need to eject?” “Yes,” he said. “If I say ‘Go’ and you say ‘What?’ you’ll be talking to yourself.”
— HARRY FOSTER
Listening to a lecture about jumping out of airplanes in an emergency made my son-in-law’s classmate uneasy. “We only get one parachute?” he asked the instructor. “Where’s our reserve?” “Son, you’re a pilot. You’re supposed to land the airplane,” came the answer. “That means the parachute is your reserve.”
— BARBARA GRAYDON
The topic of the day at Army Airborne School was what you should do if your parachute malfunctions. We had just gotten to the part about reserve parachutes when another student raised his hand. “If the main parachute malfunctions,” he asked, “how long do we have to deploy the reserve?” Looking the trooper square in the face, the instructor replied, “The rest of your life.”
— KENNETH RAUENS
My boyfriend, Tim, a mechanic, does work for the Air Force Academy. One day, a guard asked, “Mind if our new guard dog practices sniffing your truck?” Tim obliged and the dog went to work. Almost immediately, it latched onto a scent and jumped into the truck bed, sniffing furiously. Tim grew nervous. There were no drugs, no weapons. What could the dog be after? A few minutes later, the guard approached Tim. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “Our dog ate your lunch.”
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