Military humor-- for leathernecks only...

Former Marine buddy sent me these... Thought (some of) y'all would get a kick out of 'em... HOO-RAH!

I, Zoomie, swear to sign away 4 years of my useless life to the United States Air Force because I'm too smart for the Army and because the Marines frighten me. I swear to sit behind a desk and take credit for the work done by others more dedicated than me who take their job seriously. I also swear not to do any form of real exercise, but promise to defend our bike-riding test as a valid form of exercise.

I swear to uphold and defend the Constitution of the United States, even though I believe myself to be above that. I promise to walk around calling everyone by their first name because I know I'm not really in the military and I find it amusing to annoy the other services. I will have a better quality of life than all those around me and will at all times be sure to make them aware of that fact.

After completion of my "Basic Training," I will be a lean, mean, donut-eating, lazy-boy sitting, civilian-wearing-blue-clothes, chairborne Ranger. I will believe I am superior to all others and will make an effort to clean the knife before stabbing the next person in the back with it. I will do no work (unless someone is watching me and it makes me look good), will annoy those around me, and will go home early every day.

I consent to never getting promoted (EVER) and understand that all those whom I made fun of yesterday will probably outrank me tomorrow. So help me God.

I, Rambo, swear to sign away 4 years of my mediocre life to the United States Army because I couldn't score high enough on the ASVAB to get into the Air Force, because I'm not tough enough for the Marines, and the Navy won't take me because I can't swim.

I will wear camouflage every day and tuck my trousers in my boots because I can't figure out how to use blousing straps. I promise to wear my uniform 24 hours a day even when I have a date. I will continue to tell myself that I am a fierce killing machine because my Drill Sergeant told me I am, despite the fact that the only action I will ever see will result in a court-martial for sexual harassment.

I acknowledge the fact that I will make E-8 in my first year of service, and vow to maintain that it is because I scored perfect on my PT test. After completion of my sexual...err...I mean Boot Camp, I will attend a different Army school once every other month and return knowing less than I did when I left. On my first trip home after Boot Camp, I will walk around like I am cool and propose to my 9th grade sweetheart. I will make my wife stay home because if I let her out she might leave me for a smarter Air Force guy or a better looking Marine. Should she leave me twelve times, I will continue to take her back. While at work, I will maintain a look of knowledge while getting absolutely nothing accomplished. I will arrive at work every day at 1000 hrs because of morning PT and leave every day at 1300 to report back to the "company."

I understand that I will undergo no training whatsoever that will help me get a job upon separation, and will end up working in construction with my friends from high school. I will brag to everyone about the Army giving me $30,000 for college, but will be unable to use it because I can't pass a placement exam.

I, Top Gun, in lieu of going to prison, swear to sign away 4 years of my life to the United States Navy because I want to hang out with Marines without actually having to BE one of them, because I thought the Air Force was too "corporate," and because I thought, "hey, I like to swim...why not?" I promise to wear clothing that went out of style in 1976 and to have my name stenciled on the butt of every pair of pants I own. I understand that I will be mistaken for the Good Humor man during the summer, and for Waffen SS during the winter.

I will strive to use a different language than the rest of the English-speaking world, using worlds like "deck, bulkhead, cover, and head" instead of "floor, wall, hat, and toilet." I will take great pride in the fact that all Navy acronyms, rank and insignia, and everything else for that matter, are completely different from the other services and make absolutely no sense whatsoever. I will muster (whatever that is) at 0700 hrs every morning unless I am buddy-buddy with the Chief, in which case I will show up around 0930 hours.

I vow to hone my coffee cup handling skills to the point that I can stand up in a kayak being tossed around in a typhoon, and still not spill a drop. I consent to being promoted and subsequently busted at least twice per fiscal year. I realize that, once selected for Chief, I am required to submit myself to the sick, and quite possibly illegal, whims of my new-found "colleagues."

I, state your name, swear... uuhhhh... high-and-tight... cammies... uhh... ugh... Air Force women... OORAH!

Long post but good read, y'all...

PEGGY NOONAN 'Everybody's Been Shot' Friday, January 11, 2002 12:01 a.m.

There's a small but telling scene in Ridley Scott's "Black Hawk Down" that contains some dialogue that reverberates, at least for me. In the spirit of Samuel Johnson, who said man needs more often to be reminded than instructed, I offer it to all, including myself, who might benefit from its message.

The movie, as you know, is about the Battle of the Bakara Market in Mogadishu, Somalia, in October 1993. In the scene, the actor Tom Sizemore, playing your basic tough-guy U.S. Army Ranger colonel, is in charge of a small convoy of humvees trying to make its way back to base under heavy gun and rocket fire. The colonel stops the convoy, takes in some wounded, tears a dead driver out of a driver's seat, and barks at a bleeding sergeant who's standing in shock nearby:

Colonel: Get into that truck and drive.

Sergeant: But I'm shot, Colonel.

Colonel: Everybody's shot, get in and drive. "Everybody's shot." Those are great metaphoric words. Let me tell you how they seem to apply metaphorically. An hour before I saw the movie, I was with friends at lunch, and they filled me in on the latest doings in our beloved country while I was away. Cornel West is very, very angry at Larry Summers for suggesting that Prof. West shouldn't essentially perp-walk his way through the halls of academe. A Secret Service agent-a presidential Secret Service agent!--had a hissy fit when an airline pilot refused to let him board a plane carrying his gun with dubious paperwork. The agent is not only threatening a lawsuit, he says he doesn't want money when he wins. He wants the airline to be forced to give sensitivity training. I thought: I think someone needs sensitivity training all right, but I don't think it's the airline.

Just after the movie, I picked up Ellis Cose's latest book, "The Envy of the World," about the "daunting challenges" that face black men in 21st-century America. I read and thought, Earth to Ellis: Everyone faces daunting challenges in 21st-century America. Because everybody's been shot. What does that mean? It means something we used to know. It means everyone has it hard, everyone takes hits, everyone's been fragged, everyone gets tagged, life isn't easy for anyone.

I turn on morning television and see Rosie O'Donnell referring again to the fact that her mother died when she was young. This of course is very sad, and Rosie has spoken of its sadness very often, and with a great whoosh of self-regard. Her sympathy for her loss made me think, the other day: She doesn't really know that other people lost their mothers when they were young. She doesn't really know that some people never even had mothers.

She doesn't know everybody's been shot. I put on HBO and see their new young poet's show. Young poets-well, they say they're poets; I guess they're more like performance artists-come on and sort of strut around a stage and yell, and the more authentic their anger seems, the more the audience applauds and hoots. These poets seem attached to their separateness and in love with their grievance. "I am one angry Lebanese lesbian," "I am one angry NewYorican mother-lovin' whatever." They pour out their pain. But they don't actually seem to be in pain. They all look like they went to Brown and hang out downtown and have invested fully and happily in the Misery Industrial Complex. They look like they want an agent.

They're not old enough or, in spite of Brown, bright enough to know: Everybody's been shot. A young friend of a friend is still so depressed by Sept. 11 that school and social life and going to a show are now out of the question. "I'm staying home. I'm hurting."

I know, I said a few days ago when we talked. But everyone's hurting, I explain. Then I thought of Tom Sizemore. "Everyone's been shot," I said, "ya gotta get in and drive anyway."

When I was a child in the old America, people said things like, "It ain't easy." Then they'd shrug. Or, "Whatta ya want, life ain't easy!" I think people actually sighed more in those days, issued forth big long sighs that said: Life is hard. There was a sort of general knowledge that each day would not necessarily be a sleigh ride, and that everyone hits bumps along the way, and some of them are really hard, and everyone sooner or later hits them.

But now, more so than in the past, something has grown in our country, grown perhaps because of good things like psychotherapy and bad things like group-identity politics. And that something is an increasing tender regard for one's own sensitivities and quirks and problems and woes-twinned with a growing insensitivity to everyone else's quirks and problems and woes. This is not progress. If we became more aware of others instead of demanding that others be more aware of our needs, we would probably get a better fix on life, a better perspective, a better sense of everyone's context. We'd wind up more patient with others, more sympathetic. We could actually wind up sensitive to someone other than ourselves.

I sound earnest today. I am earnest today. But I will make this more fun. The week included the story of a congressman, who through no fault of his own, was humiliated, treated with great insensitivity. I am speaking of John Dingell, the Democrat from Michigan. Mr. Dingell, as you know, is an important veteran congressman who has grown used to-how to put it?-- asserting his needs and seeing to it that they are met. John Dingell was trying to get on a plane the other day when his artificial hip set off a magnetometer. He pointed out that it was an artificial hip, and I suspect he pointed out that he was a member of Congress who does not fit the prevailing terror profile. But you know what the security guards did? They took him into a side room, made him take off his pants and wanded him. John Dingell had to stand there in his underpants proving he wasn't carrying a gun.
When the story became public, the secretary of transportation called him and apologized. Mr. Dingell waved him off and told him it was OK, he understands, everyone's doing his job.

Now that's someone who knows that everybody's been shot.

Maybe y'all can back this up...

1945 - NCO's had a typewriter on their desks for doing daily reports.
2001 - everyone has an Internet access computer, and they wonder why no work is getting done.

1945 - we painted pictures of girls on airplanes to remind us of home.
2001 - they put the real thing in the cockpit.

1945 - if you got drunk off duty your buddies would take you back to the barracks to sleep it off.
2001 - if you get drunk they slap you in rehab and ruin your career.

1945 - you were taught to aim at your enemy and shoot him.
2001 - you spray 500 bullets into the brush, don't hit anything, and retreat because you're out of ammo!

1945 - canteens were made of steel, and you could heat coffee or hot chocolate in them.
2001 - canteens are made of plastic, you can't heat anything in them, and the water always taste like plastic.

1945 - officers were professional soldiers first and they commanded respect.
2001 - officers are politicians first and beg not to be given a wedgie.

1945 - they collected enemy intelligence and analyzed it.
2001 - they collect your pee and analyze it.

1945 - if you didn't act right, the Sergeant Major put you in the brig until you straightened up.
2001 - if you don't act right, they start a paper trail that follows you forever.

1945 - medals were awarded to heroes who saved lives at the risk of their own.
2001 - medals are awarded to people who work at headquarters.

1945 - we defeated powerful countries like Germany and Japan.
2001 - we come up short against Iraq and Yugoslavia.

1945 - if you wanted to relax, you went to the rec. center, played pool, smoked, and drank beer.
2001 - you go to the community center and you can play pool.

1945 - if you wanted beer and conversation you went to the NCO or Officers' Club.
2001 - the beer will cost you $2.75, membership is forced, and someone is watching how much you drink.

1945 - the Exchange had bargains for soldiers who didn't make much money.
2001 - you can get better and cheaper merchandise at Wal-Mart.

1945 - we could recognize the enemy by their Nazi helmets.
2001 - we are wearing helmets that look just like theirs.

1945 - we called the enemy names like "Krauts" and "Japs" because we didn't like them.
2001 - we call the enemy the "opposing force" or "aggressor" because we don't want to offend them.

1945 - victory was declared when the enemy was defeated and all his things were broken.
2001 - victory is declared when the enemy says he is sorry.

1945 - a commander would put his butt on the line to protect his people.
2001 - a commander will put his people on the line to protect his butt.

1945 - wars were planned and run by generals with lots of important victories.
2001 - wars are planned by politicians with lots of equivocating.

1945 - we were fighting for freedom, and the country was committed to winning.
2001 - we don't know what we're fighting for, and the government is committed to social programs (used to be called 'socialism').

1945 - all you could think about was getting out and becoming a civilian again.
2001 - all you could think about was getting out and becoming a civilian again.

For reminiscing purposes, here are the ever relevant...

24 IMPORTANT RULES OF COMBAT

1. If the enemy is in range, so are you.
2. Incoming fire has the right of way.
3. Don't look conspicuous: it draws fire.
4. The easy way is always mine.
5. Try to look unimportant, they may be low on ammo.
6. Professionals are predictable; it's the amateurs that are dangerous.
7. The enemy invariably attacks on one of two occasions:
a. When you're ready for them, or…
b. When you're not ready for them.
8. Teamwork is essential; it gives the enemy someone else to shoot at.
9. If you can't remember, the claymore is pointed at you.
10. If your attack is going well, you have walked into an ambush.
11. Don't draw fire, it irritates the people around you.
12. The only thing more accurate than incoming enemy fire is incoming friendly fire.
13. When the pin is pulled, Mr. Grenade is not our friend.
14. If it's stupid but works, it isn't stupid.
15. When in doubt empty the magazine.
16. Never share a foxhole with anyone braver than you.
17. Anything you do can get you shot. Including doing nothing.
18. Make it too tough for the enemy to get in and you can't get out.
19. Mines are equal opportunity weapons.
20. A Purple Heart just proves that were you smart enough to think of a plan, stupid enough to try it, and lucky enough to survive.
21. Don't ever be the first, don't ever be the last and don't ever volunteer to do anything.
22. The quartermaster has only two sizes: too large and too small.
23. Five-second fuses only last three seconds.
24. It is generally inadvisable to eject directly over the area you just bombed.

Please append any I missed (nothing about Cable TV though!).

Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.