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  • Originally posted by Minskaya View Post
    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.
    Howabout tell us today ! ;)


    • Originally posted by Officer of Engineers View Post
      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.
      My basic rules Colonel: Don't skimp on cost. Expect to spend $40-60 USD. Get a 1-piece with no zippers, clasps, or snaps. Make sure it is flexible and the fabric can breathe. Get wide straps, as the narrow ones tend to dig into the shoulders. Make sure the girls have independent support cups or you'll wind up with a "uni-boob". And finally sir, rotate daily if possible and replace every 3 months max ;)


      • Differential Theory of US Armed Forces (Snake Model) upon encountering a snake in the Area of Operations (AO):

        1. Infantry: Snake smells them, leaves area.

        2. Airborne: Lands on and kills the snake.

        3. Armor: Runs over snake, laughs, and looks for more snakes.

        4. Aviation: Has Global Positioning Satellite coordinates to snake. Can't find snake. Returns to base for refuel, crew rest and manicure.

        5. Ranger: Plays with snake, then eats it.

        6. Field Artillery: Kills snake with massive Time On Target barrage with three Forward Artillery Brigades in support. Kills several hundred civilians as unavoidable collateral damage. Mission is considered a success and all participants (i.e., cooks, mechanics and clerks) are awarded Silver Stars.

        7. Special Forces: Makes contact with snake, ignores all State Department directives and Theater Commander Rules of Engagement by building rapport with snake and winning its heart and mind. Trains it to kill other snakes. Files enormous travel settlement upon return.

        8. Combat Engineer: Studies snake. Prepares in-depth doctrinal thesis in obscure 5 series Field Manual about how to defeat snake using countermobility assets. Complains that maneuver forces don't understand how to properly conduct doctrinal counter-snake ops.

        9. Navy SEAL: Expends all ammunition and calls for naval gunfire support in failed attempt to kill snake. Snake bites SEAL and retreats to safety. Hollywood makes fantasy film in which SEALS kill Muslim extremist snakes.

        10. Navy: Fires off 50 cruise missiles from various types of ships, kills snake and makes presentation to Senate Appropriations Committee on how Naval forces are the most cost-effective means of anti-snake force projection.

        11. Marine: Kills snake by accident while looking for souvenirs. Local civilians demand removal of all US forces from Area of Operations.

        12. Marine Recon: Follows snake, gets lost.

        13. Combat Controllers: Guides snake elsewhere.

        14. Para-Rescue Jumper: Wounds snake in initial encounter, then works feverishly to save snake's life.

        15. Supply: (NOTICE: Your anti-snake equipment is on backorder.)

        16. Transport pilot: Receives call for anti-snake equipment, and delivers two weeks after due date.

        17. F-15 pilot: Mis-identifies snake as enemy Mil-24 Hind helicopter and engages with missiles. Crew chief paints snake kill on aircraft.

        18. F-16 pilot: Finds snake, drops two CBU-87 cluster bombs, and misses snake target, but get direct hit on Embassy 100 KM East of snake due to weather (Too Hot also Too Cold, Was Clear but too overcast, Too dry with Rain, Unlimited ceiling with low cloud cover etc.) Claims that purchasing multi-million dollar, high-tech snake-killing device will enable it in the future to kill all snakes and achieve a revolution in military affairs.

        19. AH-64 Apache pilot: Unable to locate snake, snakes don't show well on infra-red. Infrared only operable in desert AO's without power lines or SAM's.

        20. UH-60 Blackhawk pilot: Finds snake on fourth pass after snake builds bonfire, pops smoke, lays out VS 17 to mark Landing Zone. Rotor wash blows snake into fire.

        21. B-52 pilot: Pulls ARCLIGHT mission on snake, kills snake and every other living thing within two miles of target.

        22. Missile crew: Lays in target coordinates to snake in 20 seconds, but can't receive authorization from National Command Authority to use nuclear weapons.

        23. Intelligence officer: Snake? What snake? Only four of 35 indicators of snake activity are currently active. We assess the potential for snake activity as LOW.

        24. Judge Advocate General (JAG): Snake declines to bite, citing grounds of professional courtesy.

        "Some have learnt many Tricks of sly Evasion, Instead of Truth they use Equivocation, And eke it out with mental Reservation, Which is to good Men an Abomination."

        I don't have to attend every argument I'm invited to.



        • A few more to add to the Brigadier's

          25. Chemical Corps. Conduct a radiological and chemical analysis of snake...latches it to tow pine on Fox Recon vevlhicle and drags snake through slurry pit.

          26. Military Police. Links up with snake and provides security escort to clear snake from the area.

          27. Food Service. Tells the snake to grab a tray and move the line and get the hell out of his mess hall!

          28. Finance Corps. Loses the snake's travel voucher....3 times. Snake's company commander busts snake 1 grade for non-payment of bills. Finance checks his stock portfolio online.
          “Loyalty to country ALWAYS. Loyalty to government, when it deserves it.”
          Mark Twain


          • 29. NZSAS - Captures and holds snake until arrival of special package.

            30. Canadian Military Engineers - Negotiating with NZSAS to deliver their supply of Worcester sauce.


            • 31. Army National Guard- Locates snake, offers beer and BBQ. Gets in fight with snake and loses. Buys snake another round.
              "This aggression will not stand, man!" Jeff Lebowski
              "The only true currency in this bankrupt world is what you share with someone else when you're uncool." Lester Bangs


              • Customs and Border Patrol: Asks snake if there is anything to declare, and lets it through.


                • 1 RTR - Tankie flashed the snake. Charges of crimes against humanity would have been brought but snake ain't human.


                  • GLOC and the 1-Ton Club

                    The story I related in another thread about the female ROTC cadet who gunned me reminded me about another incident which I will relate momentarily. But first... "The 1-Ton Club"? What is THAT? It is when your body weight under extreme "G" exceeds one ton. Obviously, it helps to be a big guy to make it, and at 220 lb + gear, 9 G took me there many times.

                    People think flying a fighter is a video game. Nothing could be further from the truth. It is a brutal environment that places great strain on the body, and usually you are wiped out physically, drenched with sweat, after a mission. Mostly due to high G.

                    Youtube is full of centrifuge videos, and they are both interesting and entertaining, especially when the subject GLOC's, G-induced loss of consciousness. The blood leaves the brain, the subject passes out, and what is particularly interesting is that there is total amnesia. No blood apparently equals no memory formation.

                    For several seconds after regaining consciousness, the subject is helpless, often spastic. The results can be fatal in aviation. In one episode in particular, I am very, very lucky to be alive. Pitching out in the overhead pattern, I was fatigued and simply lost it at 6G. The pitch-out turn is level, but the vector varies slightly up or down through the turn. When I lost it, I had a slight upward vector, and I woke up beaming out over the base in a slight climb. If my vector had been down at all, I'd have been a smoking hole.

                    Anyway, back to the female ROTC cadet. This story is a bit lengthy, but I'll try to keep it tight.

                    I arrived at the brief and found I had a female dink in the back seat of a D model. She was excited as hell, upbeat, cheerful, and cute, so I figured "OK, let's make the best of this" because (as mentioned) riders often become violently ill and the mission is ruined. But this mission was a LOWAT (Low Altitude) ride, which means the G-available is enormous, and the ride itself can be violent... not a good sign.

                    We blast off, and I'll be damned, she's doing good. Sometimes, people are blowing chunks on departure under 1 G, just from the claustrophobia and anxiety.

                    We arrive in the working area, and do some simple tactical turns, 4 to 5 G. Again, she's doing fine. Remarkable. Best fam rider I've ever had. Every time I look over my shoulder, she gives me a thumbs up. We split off and practice some low-altitude maneuvering. The G is ratcheting up, both in onset and quantity. 6G. 7G. Over and over. I keep looking back at her, and getting a thumb's up.

                    After about an hour, we are light enough for more G. 8G... 9G... more than once. She's still giving me a thumb's up! I am more than amazed by this point. I am now suspicious. No one is this sort of a G-monster without a couple of years in the cockpit. So I do one last hard turn, except this time, I'm watching her over my shoulder. At about 7G, she's out! I ease up, watch her do the funky chicken dance for 5 seconds, and then she gives me yet another thumb's up! I had probably knocked her out a dozen times, but she had no memory of it, so from her perspective, all was well!

                    We RTB uneventfully, and I told her in front of her mates, "You were the best cadet I've ever flown, bar none." Hopefully she became a pilot, because she genuinely did have the potential for it.

                    The following clip contains a bunch of GLOCs recorded by the centrifuge folk. The very first subject looks just like my girl, including her nice funky chicken dance! And read her lips after she's functioning again... "That was AWESOME!" Also note that NO ONE looks good at 9G. ;)


                    • Reposting some stories from another thread:

                      Originally posted by Gun Grape View Post
                      The good old days with all the acronyms. NTPIs, NWAIs, SAS NSO NWSOs, PAL,PRP.

                      Did a 3 yr tour as a member of one of the Corps Nuclear Ord Platoons. Plus close to 6 yrs as a artillery Nuc projectileman (Additional duty)

                      Like the rest of you I was really glad all that crap went away.

                      The quote burned in the few brain cells I have. "I can neither confirm, nor deny, the presence, or absence, of nuclear weapons aboard any military installation."

                      As a young Sgt at NOP I remember fondly the day I was the "Duty Tec" for the access control point when the Base Fire marshal "found" our compound. And having no fire escape/building diagrams decided he wanted to have a look.

                      Aside from really pissing off the most senior civilian (GS rating) aboard the base. It was a lot of fun, for this young Sgt that may have had a bit of a cocky attitude

                      "I am the base fire marshal, I can go anywhere on this base I want" that was met with "Your name is not on my access roster. You will have to leave". Followed by "You cannot keep me out of here" met with
                      "Yes i can,>>>>> Nuclear Security Act 1947>>>> I'll shoot your ass"

                      After I called the MarForLant Commander (A Sgt with a direct line to a 3 Star Gen) The Fire Marshal settled down. That look was classic. He pulled the "I'll tell the General on you threat" and I said "Well if it will make you happy I'll give him a call"

                      After the Gen told him he did not have authority nor access to our site he insisted on asking me the same question over and over "Are there Nucs stored in that building?
                      And I'd pop The Quote. Then he would ask again, and I'd repeat "The Quote". We did this for about 15 min before he got bored and left.

                      And the easiest way to pass a Navy Nuc inspection was to decide to do a Field Nuc ASP in the swampiest part of the base in Aug. For some reason the Navy guys never wanted to see a complete cycle. Maybe it had to do with the helmet and flak jackets. Or the Carolina ground oozing up over their low quarter shoes. Maybe it was the mosquitoes the size of small birds. Or the 95 deg temp with 100% humidity.

                      Personally I think it was the doughnuts we had put out. Back at our air conditioned building. Khakis and doughnuts never fails. Like hunting over a baited field.

                      Originally posted by desertswo View Post
                      Born and raised in Nasty City (my father was a Warrant Boatswain); never visited the Trophy Lounge although I knew its location from my earliest memories. In my day, we would do liquid lunch at the Hitching Post . . . then the culture changed and drinking was verbotten. The last 15 years of my career were ever so much more boring than the first 10.

                      My brother-in-law, an RA-5C Vigilante driver was an instructor at NWTGP, and often had interesting stories about students that had no business being around those things.

                      I have a slightly different story about a MARDET SSgt aboard Constellation and his zeal for protecting the weapons with which he was charged. We were underway doing a Bluebells evolution (that's moving a "silver bullet" folks) and I, being the Repair Two Locker Leader owned the area of the ship where that particular magazine was located. So we were charged with dealing with the Broken Arrow should one occur, while the Marines of course were there to keep the riffraff out of the area. So here comes this Airedale LCDR who announces that he's going up the escalator to his ready room, despite the fact that the escalator and the immediate area around it was secured for the movement of the weapon, as the weapons elevator for that magazine is right there. The SSgt. says, "No Sir, the area is secured for Bluebells, you must go aft and up." I'm a JG at this point and I've got a good relationship with the Marines because we respect each others duties for this kind of thing, but this LCDR is like pointing out his gold oak leaves, and the SSgt. is just politely telling him no . . . until the dipshit Airedale decides he's pushing past him and going up the escalator, at which point the SSgt. put the butt of his riot gun across the guy's jaw, and they placed him under restraint and took him to the brig. Then, when the movement was over, we all went to Captain's Mast, and I was a witness. I just told what I saw, and the LCDR was referred to court martial. At that point in my career I had my fill of aviator bullshit double-standard crap, so I was secretly joyful at what had transpired. I honestly don't know what was decided at court martial because both the offender and the trial were taken off ship and we weren't allowed to know the outcome, but regardless, the message was delivered to the other 5000 souls aboard.:)
                      Supporting or defending Donald Trump is such an unforgivable moral failing that it calls every bit of your judgement and character into question. Nothing about you should be trusted if you can look at this man and find redeemable value


                      • Didn't tell this one

                        While deployed at Cyprus, my section's 2IC went to get our supply of chow for the next few weeks. We were too small to get a kitchen, so, the dreaded packs. Only when the Sgt came back, it was all lagsana. I'm talking breakfast, lunch, dinner.

                        It got to a point when I returned from patrol one day, my guys shot and cooked a stray dog. I didn't have any as I quickly opened swallow a pack just to kill the hungar pains but it sure smelled good and the guys said it was worth it.

                        Decades later, I'm sitting at the Mess with my RSM at a scotch tasting and we began trading stories with the rest of the old foggies. And this MWO began telling us a story that he was pissed at this engineeering section, so he sent them lagsana for their run, only opps, it was the wrong section.

                        "THAT WAS YOU!"

                        I made him buy a round of scotch for the entire section, put it on the Mess tab and proceeded to find as many members of my section whom I can find. I found 2 and told them to spread the word that there's some very expensive scotch waiting for them.


                        • Keeping with The Gunny's and Captain's stories....(sorry Sir, but the Gunny does have WAB seniority!)

                          There used to be (not sure if it still goes on) a "lovely" guard duty we had to pull in Germany called Miesau Guard Duty. Basically, on a rotating basis, each division in USAREUR got stuck with providing a rifle company for 4 weeks to augment the MP guard force at the massive ammo depot near Kaiserslautern. You were locked into a compound which had a 3 lane bowling alley, small snack bar, a dining facility and a gymn. That was it. We were billeted in a huge warehouse with an open bay for the troops on bunks, 2 small rooms for the officers, and arms room and an operations room.

                          For 4 weeks we had the skull numbing 24/7 guard duty. By this time I was the weapons platoon leader. The rifle platoons guarded the miles of fenceline and bunkers. My platoon had to guard the place euphamistically called....the Special Exclusion Zone. We got tagged for this since all my guys had to have Secret clearances (a requirement for TOW and Mortar guys at one time) and I had that damn TS.

                          We were in about our 3rd week when I was out making the rounds in a quarter ton. It was about 0600 in May so it was BMNT. I wasn't on shift but I was bored out of my skull and it was something to do so I volunteered. I am about halfway out when the radio lights up with screams of SHOTS FIRED!!!! SHOTS FIRED!!! and the call sign of my guys. I told the CP I was reacting and then had to turn of the radio....I was passing the area where all of the bunkers of demo and fuzes were located. Those and FM transmissions don't mix. So I was cut off from comms while I raced through lines of bunkers.

                          I got to the site and there were already several vehicles pulled up and a couple of my guys being questioned by the CO, 1SG and the the Duty Officer. I walked over and was starting to catch up when the MP company and ammo battalion commander pull up. Specialist Joe Bagofdonuts had to start all over what happened. He reported that while making his rounds he had spotted an intruder about 200 meters along the fence line in the woods (the whole depot was tree covered for camo purposes...which made patrolling fun). With that the MP commander sent a squad down the treeline to check. As the HUT!! HUT!! HUTTED along we all stood back and watched.

                          The team leader came running back and reported that SPEC Joe was a good shot. He nailed a boar with 2 rounds!!!

                          So we got to the Forestmeister, the game warden and a whole bunch of other "nice" people....and got to write up a whole bunch of reports.

                          And Joe got a new nickname...Arnold....for Arnold Ziffel, the pig from "Green Acres".

                          And let's unjack the thread. I'll add this to stories as well.
                          “Loyalty to country ALWAYS. Loyalty to government, when it deserves it.”
                          Mark Twain


                          • "...He nailed a boar with 2 rounds!!!"

                            I smell bacon and barbeque. The boar, I hope, was properly dressed-out shortly thereafter.
                            "This aggression will not stand, man!" Jeff Lebowski
                            "The only true currency in this bankrupt world is what you share with someone else when you're uncool." Lester Bangs


                            • Originally posted by S2 View Post
                              "...He nailed a boar with 2 rounds!!!"

                              I smell bacon and barbeque. The boar, I hope, was properly dressed-out shortly thereafter.
                              Unfortunately by the game warden and not us.
                              “Loyalty to country ALWAYS. Loyalty to government, when it deserves it.”
                              Mark Twain


                              • Here’s a story I promised bigross86 about “my part” in the Yom Kippur War. In October of 1973, I was a Catholic high school football player, and typical teenage boy of the era. I had long hair, relatively speaking, and when not in school was dressed in my usual uniform of the day; Levis, Hang Ten T-shirt and Clark’s Desert Boots. My two best friends and I were similarly attired and were on our way to see a movie. I don’t recall what movie because we never got there.

                                It’s the “there” that matters in the story; the movie theater on Naval Station San Diego, known to us locals simply as “32nd Street.” To see a first run motion picture cost the princely sum of $0.25, and cokes and candy were similarly cut-rate at the concession stand. All three of us were Navy juniors; their fathers being Master Chief Petty Officers, and mine a CWO4, although all were long retired by that point. Regardless, we sort of grew up on the base, going to the theater, the commissary, the exchange, etc., etc., etc. It’s just a way of life we sort of took for granted and never gave a second thought.

                                So there we are driving up to the main gate . . . in my father’s 1971 Chevy Malibu SS-454; and yes, it had the four-barrel carb and four on the floor. When I asked my father why he bought that beast, his response was, “Because I can.” I think I know where I got my love of going fast. Anyway, we are driving up to the base and all of a sudden there are all these angry looking people wearing starched trees pointing M-16s at us and ordering us out of the car. I swear, we were shitting green. Out of the car we came, up against the car we went, and it wasn’t with a “Mother may I.” These Marines were roughing us up pretty good and had we not been two linebackers and an offensive guard, we might have been on our knees before too long.

                                After a minute, a Marine Corps officer and the Navy OOD approach the scene and the questions start. “Whose car is it you long-haired maggot and why are you driving it?” I explained that it was my father’s car, that’s why there is a blue DoD sticker on the bumper (in those days vice the window), and we were just going to the movies. We all had our dependent’s ID cards so no worries there, but I was dragged into the duty hut to call my father. So he comes down in my VW Bug (he let me drive his car if I paid for the gas) and basically bails us out; all the while giving the OOD the skink eye for being a bunch of assholes, but when the OOD explained what was going on, the light bulb went on for him, and us.

                                What had happened was the IDF had turned the tide after initially being bitch-smacked by Arab forces in the Yom Kippur War, and the Soviets started rattling their sabers pretty hard, so DoD went to DEFCON 3. That’s only happened a couple of times in Cold War/post-Cold War history; 9/11 (for which I was present at the Pentagon), Yom Kippur, and the Cuban Missile Crisis on the way to DEFCON 2. When it happens, security at bases all over the world gets ratcheted up to almost ridiculous, but necessary levels, and we had unwittingly driven into a hornet’s nest of amped up Marine Corps security personnel who were there solely to defend those weapons we could neither confirm nor deny the presence of, and we “hippies” were obviously pinko, commie, bedwetting, subversives, bent on the destruction of the United States Navy . . . yadda, yadda.

                                When it happened again after 9/11 I felt right at home. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
                                Last edited by desertswo; 10 Aug 13,, 04:25.