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Thread: Stories!

  1. #556
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    Special thanks to Bigross for suggesting I tell the following tale. It really happened as I tell it below.

    Title it: How I got kicked out of A school.

    Larry Z and I were tight friends. Down south where I come from they'd call us "thick as thieves," because no matter where the trouble was, Z and I were usually in the know about it, or involved. It wasn't that we were troublemakers, we were good, honest young sailors trying to do right in the world, and trouble seemed to be attracted to us like moths to a flame.

    Ultimately all that trouble got us into trouble with our section leader, and we were placed on ordered study hours - 3 hours a night, 6 nights per week we were required to sit in a room and study under the supervision of a duty petty officer, with the duty Chief walking about amongst the classrooms making sure everything was ok. Now, it wasn't 3 hours straight, there were breaks. 10 minutes every hour to go smoke. Not too tough, right?

    We pick up our tale with Z and I sitting in O-hours, he two rows in front of me since we'd long figured out not to sit together lest the temptation to talk overcome us. It was our last week of Nuclear Field A School, and our final exam was coming the next day. All classes during the day had been cancelled and we had been required to study every hour for the previous 8 class hours. Suffice it to say we both knew the material backwards and forwards. It's now hour 2 of O-hours and I'm starting to snooze over the material. Z spots me, and throws the eraser off his pencil at me to wake me up. He got me, right between the eyes. A brilliant shot.

    I awaken and it's time for break. We go out to the smoke pad and I told him I was going to get him back for throwing that eraser. Soon as we get back into the classroom I pick it up, wing it at him, miss and strike the guy next to him. I was in the midst of apologizing to said sailor when the duty Chief walks in. Ooops. Busted. Talking during Ordered study hours, violation of a written order. I tried to weasel my way out of it by telling the Chief I was just asking a question over the material. He said I should've asked it on break, too bad. The next day instead of taking my final, I am summoned to base legal department. They hand me a piece of paper and tell me to write down everything that had taken place that led up to me being written up. Being the young kid, fresh out of bootcamp that I was, I complied. Oops. Result: I'm facing Captain's Mast for violation of a written order, falsification of an official statement (I lied to the Chief), and assault (for throwing that damned pencil eraser). In addition Z is up for assault with the same eraser. NOT good.

    So CO's mast comes around, Z is just ahead of me in the line to go in and see the Captain. I'm dead last - never a good spot to be in the waiting line.

    Z comes out, grins and winks as he passes. I thought "Great! a small slap on the wrist for stupidity. This'll work."

    In I go. The CO looks at me and tells me to tell my tale, so I did in exquisite detail. He asks me, "Why did you lie about it?" I told him "Sir, I thought this to be a very minor incident and it wasn't going to ever happen again, so I tried to cover it."

    He gets a very stern look in his eye. "I can see why you were talking, hell, I'd apologize too if I'd missed and hit the wrong person. I can even see why you lied about it, because I certainly wouldn't want to come see me under these circumstances." He said. After a 15 second pause where nothing was said he looks again at me and says, "I dismiss the charges of violation of a written order and falsification of an official statement. You had mitigating circumstances. However, if you'd never thrown that eraser back at your roommate we would've never been here now. I find you guilty of Assault. You are hereby awarded reduction in rate one paygrade, fined $100, and as a separate administrative action you are hereby disenrolled from Nuclear Field A School." Even my chain of command's jaws hit the floor on that one.

    But don't despair my friends, our story doesn't end quite yet.

    I smurfed over on the recruit side of RTC Orlando, watching over the little boots doing the dishes in the galley for a couple of weeks until my orders came through. I was to report, after 2 weeks leave, to the USS Iowa. Cool deal, got orders to a battleship! I go home, do my leave, fly to Norfolk to meet the ship only to be told she's in Guantanamo doing an Engineering Operations Inspection (OPPE). They load me onto a plane, and fly me down there to meet the Great Lady for the first time. It's October 1988. Uniform of the day in Norfolk was Dress Blues. In Cuba, it's 90+ outside and they're still in whites. I stuck out like a sore thumb. After 6 hours waiting on the beach for a boat to come get us, you can only imagine the foul condition my uniform and odor was.

    We get to Iowa, I come up the Acom ladder, hand my orders to the OOD, salute the Ensign, salute the OOD, request permission to board. "Oh!" he says to me, "You're the one we've been waiting on. Captain wants to see you. Dump your gear there on the deck and go with the messenger - he'll show you the way." Rut roh...what'd I do now?

    I am, in my mussed, stinky condition, escorted directly to Captain Fred Moosally in his cabin. He sits me down and says "Son, I've been reading your record. It's an interesting tale. Truth is I get more new sailors from Nuke school over petty bullshit like this than from anywhere else. I'm sick of it, so here's what I'm going to do. You're hereby promoted back to E3 so sew your stripes back on after you get that foul smelling uniform cleaned. You're also awarded your hundred bucks back, you'll get that next payday. I can't send you back to school since he admin sep'd you, but I can let you pick what division you'd like to be in." I chose E-division and the rest, is history

  2. #557
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    Wow that CO was a jerk. Great story and I'm glad you shared it.

  3. #558
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    Glad you took my advice! I'm sure you've got plenty more stories to share. This thread needs to be resurrected more often, anyway...
    Meddle not in the affairs of dragons, for you are crunchy and taste good with ketchup.

    Abusing Yellow is meant to be a labor of love, not something you sell to the highest bidder.

  4. #559
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    Just for that you get another one.

    On January 5, 1990 My (then) wife and I were blessed with the most beautiful girl in the world. She weighed 7lbs 11ozs and had eyes as black as coal, raven locks, and olive skin like her mother.

    Now raising a kid while being "haze gray and underway" is a difficult thing at best. My daughter was just learning to talk and walk when I deployed for Desert Shield/Storm aboard USS America. After I'd left, she constantly asked her mom "Where's Daddy?".

    To calm her down and help her out, my wife showed her the 8x10 photo of me in my dress blues she kept framed in the livingroom. "There's Daddy," she'd say, pointing for my daughter to see.

    So about a month into the deployment the wife had taken my daughter shopping at the base exchange. Loaded with groceries and sundries, they'd exited the store and were heading for the car. Suddenly, my daughter goes into an excited frenzy, points, and yells "DADDY!" at the top of her lungs. She'd spotted another young sailor in his dress blues. The guy's wife was not amused either....

  5. #560
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    Yeah, good luck trying to explain that one...
    Meddle not in the affairs of dragons, for you are crunchy and taste good with ketchup.

    Abusing Yellow is meant to be a labor of love, not something you sell to the highest bidder.

  6. #561
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    When I was stationed in Germany my very first duty assignment was 1/7 Cav. I was going to be trained as an air scout because of my high proficiency in AFVID. As I climbed off the bus a SGT met me and helped with my bags and asked if I was the new scout. I told him yes. We proceeded to the mess hall and I ate breakfast. Lts and Capts would walk by and pat me on the back, "glad your with us" they would say. I finished and headed to my briefing. I walked into the briefing room and had a seat. While I was waiting the SGT that helped me gave me an in-brief and started, "Welcome to 1/7 Cav...Garryowen"...I looked up and at the same time the CO was walking through the door I opened my mouth and spoke these words..."Custer's 1/7? You mean Little Big Horn 1/7? Oh My God, I'm gonna get scalped...(and I smiled)..." The CO turned on his heel, called the SGT, and I was escorted to the bus stop and reassigned enroute to C Co 1/15th Inf...

  7. #562
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    During basic training, whenever we started a lesson, ended a lesson, lined up outside the lunchroom or any other reason there was more than one soldier waiting for a sergeant or officer, we had to line up in formation and give attention. This was done in the following manner: The entire squad would line up in rows of three, rifles at parade rest, with one soldier also at parade rest but at 90 degrees to the rest and front-right of the formation. (_ _ _ _ _ _ |). As soon as the sergeant/officer was present, the soldier at 90 degrees would yell "To accept the sergeant/officer, Company/Platoon/whatever will come to attention. 2,3" and the entire formation would yell "ATTENTION!"

    When we finished the first half of basic training and the company split up into gunners, loaders and drivers, whenever one specialty group was at formation, we had to come up with our own two part ending instead of the whole "2,3" "ATTENTION!" bit. The problem was that apparently every single combo we came up with, the sergeants had a problem with. It wasn't original, it wasn't acceptable, change it.

    We sidestep for a bit. Whenever we were in the tank before we started shooting live ammo, learning about the FCS and all that, whenever we pressed the trigger the TC would go "Pshhhhh" on the ICS. Apparently that's what they thought a live round being fired from the cannon sounded like.

    After having the first dozen of our custom bits to receive the sergeants turned down, we decided a new one. We were greeting three sergeants and on cue, the guy at 90 degrees yelled out the first half of the formula. When it came time for the custom ending, he yelled out "How does a tank cannon sound?!" and the entire formation yelled "PSHHHHH!"

    All three sergeants burst out laughing, and apparently it's a mortal sin to see a sergeant laughing during basic. It's eternal damnation in the deepest level of hell to make a sergeant laugh. Once the sergeants got their poker faces back on, we spent a good 30 minutes doing pushups, sit-ups, running between gunnery towers and other tricks the sergeants use to torture soldiers in basic. Worth every bloody second, if you ask me...
    Last edited by bigross86; 27 Dec 11, at 20:43.
    Meddle not in the affairs of dragons, for you are crunchy and taste good with ketchup.

    Abusing Yellow is meant to be a labor of love, not something you sell to the highest bidder.

  8. #563
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    Alright, it's been a while since we've had any new stories. I'll try another one.

    "The day we pi$$ed on France"

    Scenario - late 1980's, REFORGER in full swing. We are based at CAFB Lahr, near the border of France, and our task was (of course) to defend NATO assets in the event of a Soviet invasion. Our base was positioned about as far from the predicted fighting as was possible... which was smart. Any attackers would have to overfly all of West Germany, dodging AD assets the whole way.

    Our deployment was a LOT of fun, to say the least.

    We were given authorization to take a four-ship cross-country to Zaragoza, Spain. We thought the flight planning would be a piece of cake... get authorization, overfly France, land in Spain. Not having the fuel to get there any other way, we were forced to deal with the French. It took 2 days of negotiation, and hours of haggling over the telephone, dozens of numbers dialed, "We'll get back to you" comments, and the like. For a while, it looked like they'd deny overflight of our evil NATO warplanes. Ultimately, we got permission, but we were all extremely miffed. "They're supposed to be our allies, right?"

    We launch as "Hoser" flight, and climb to the mid 40's. With a formation, it is nice to get a block altitude, and the controller gave us 46,000' on up, meaning we could be anywhere at or above 46,000'. Settling down to cruise, it became very quiet, as we were on little-used UHF frequencies. Then, we get a call from ATC.

    Hozerrr, vuld ew lak flrech faghters tew intersept yeww?

    We talk on the #2 radio. "What is she saying?" We finally got it. Hoser, would you like French fighters to intercept you?

    Send 'em up!

    Lead gives the rest of us a hand signal, "Push it up", meaning increase speed. We also begin to climb, topping at 49,000' +. The ROE of this setup dictates no maneuvering. We were to stay on our flight-planned routing. It was up to the French to find us and solve for a valid intercept. We power up our AI radars, and begin a standard 4-ship search.

    I looked at my HUD, and I remember seeing 0.9999 mach or thereabouts. Supersonic was NOT authorized, and would have gotten us into hot water. Still, without going into a lot of technical stuff, a mach 1 target at 50,000' is a very challenging intercept. Everything has to be executed perfectly for success. The "high/fast flyer" scenario came about from the threat of Soviet Foxbats at 60,000' and mach 2+, attempting to kill our AWACs and other HV assets. Exceptionally tricky back then, not so bad now with Patriot and AIM-120.

    We watched our radars. Within 10 minutes, we saw one of their alert barns launch, desperately climb, only to fall off the scope to one side. Attempt one failed. Much laughter and mocking on the #2 radio.

    30 minutes later, we see another alert barn launch, a pair of Mirage jets clawing for altitude and speed. We could tell from the geometry of their climb that they too would choke, and they did.

    With the border approaching, one final attempt was made, and once again, the Mirage alert aircraft fluttered helplessly off profile 20,000' below us, ending up in a hopeless tailchase. All three launch attempts failed miserably, and it would have been even uglier if we had been allowed supersonic.

    Our flight overflew the entire nation of France completely unchallenged, at least as far as intercepts. We hit Zaragoza hard, running the "tubes", which is a series of dive bars in a particular area, where they serve weird seafood and Tinto wine, which is supposedly the dregs of a red wine cask, very powerful stuff.

    My memory of Zaragoza is a bit hazy to this day...

  9. #564
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    All I had to do was read the title of the story to burst out laughing
    Meddle not in the affairs of dragons, for you are crunchy and taste good with ketchup.

    Abusing Yellow is meant to be a labor of love, not something you sell to the highest bidder.

  10. #565
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    Quote Originally Posted by bigross86 View Post
    All I had to do was read the title of the story to burst out laughing
    Friends of my parents during the 70's pissed on France. In front of a French police officer. From a safe distance - Monaco. True story
    No such thing as a good tax - Churchill

    To make mistakes is human. To blame someone else for your mistake, is strategic.

  11. #566
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    The first critical lesson I learned in the field.... make damned sure a sports-bra is a part of my kit

  12. #567
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    Hello Minskaya - your "lesson learned" made me chuckle. My oldest daughter is a 1Lt in the U.S. Army, and especially when she deployed, I was worried about how she would be treated in a male-dominated environment, and I was especially concerned about the possibility of an attack of a sexual nature. Later, she told me, "You needn't have worried about it. The psychology of a unit is such that 'I am theirs' meaning anyone messes with me, my guys would kill them. Literally." She was treated with respect and any "hitting" was more banter than serious.

    Has this been your experience as well? The Israeli armed forces have been more fully integrated than just about any other nation for decades.

  13. #568
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    My first impression was that sports-bra was enabling her to do things easier.

    So... we got the morale, but where is the story
    No such thing as a good tax - Churchill

    To make mistakes is human. To blame someone else for your mistake, is strategic.

  14. #569
    In Memoriam Military Professional Minskaya's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Chogy View Post
    Has this been your experience as well? The Israeli armed forces have been more fully integrated than just about any other nation for decades.
    In the field, my radioman and I were a team. We always traveled together and we always looked out for each other. We would never allow anything untoward to happen to the other. Speaking of which, one fine afternoon in southern Lebanon I killed a Hezbollah sniper who had injured him. Maybe someday I'll tell you about it.

  15. #570
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    Captain, I will pour you a 16 yr old GLENLIVET to salute your service but if you want to share my bottle of my bottle of 18 year old GLENMORANGIE, you tell us about your sports bra.

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