Looking for good Military stories (tricks played on other military forces or civilians)

me | 04/04/02 | Me

[ItisaReligionofPeace]

I was talking to a guy the other day who said that when he was in the Navy (in the early to mid 1990's) he and other sailors would play games/tricks with other military forces. He also said that they would jam the radar of commercial Russian planes for a little while until they could see the airliner go off course and then they would give them their radar back. I got a real kick out of hearing his stories and was wondering if any other FReepers have stories that they could post.

[Lazamataz]

My story: New York Guard, on our yearly AT, our unit of MP's were getting some very neat training by a cop who trained police at one of the NYS police acadamys. It's not all that normal for MP's to get regular police training but our CO was resourceful and thought it would be cool so we could interface with the civilian cops better if need be. We got a (very abbreviated) version of the standard police training course.

The CPT of our unit was really good friends with the civvy cop, and they must have made some sort of bet, because one day, Captain (name redacted) came over to our barracks and got us togather and mentioned that he would very much like it if our unit had the neat magnetic Military Police signs that were JUST LIKE the ones on the vehicles of the MP's who were stationed at our AT base. We got the message, so all of us got together and started scheming how we could get them -- at night, during chow, how could we do it?

The next day I had a brief liberty into town to pick up some supplies that my Sarge needed. As I was getting my s**t ready, I saw an opportunity: Two MP's in their vehicle parked next to a whole bunch of other cars. The mag signs were attached as usual, but this time the other cars gave me cover. So I walked by one of the sides and hooked the sign right off and stuffed it under my blouse. Then I did an about face and hooked the other one. Went back into barracks, rolled them both up tightly, grabbed my wallet and ID and blew outta camp. Made it to a civilian postoffice and mailed the magnetic signs to myself, got Sarges supplies, and returned to camp.

About two hours passed and the whole place went nuts. We were all called into formation and the camp Commander tore us all a new a-hole saying someone stole the MP magnetic signs and we BETTER EFFING RETURN EM and etcetera. They tore up all the barracks and shook us all down and searched all our POV's and everything, but I had already gotten em in the mail!

Later, I told the Captain how I did it (he was impressed) and the last day of camp he took me aside to show me that the MP's were now removing the (remaining) signs from their vehicles every time they got out. We both made it into a building before we dissolved in tears laughing our a&&es off.

[Lazamataz]

Above's my best story. I have some others but this ones the best one.

[SolaScriptura]

My father and several veterans of WWII attended college at Utah State right after the war on the GI Bill. A bunch of them took a field trip to Yellowstone Park to do research (fishery biology). Their professor treated them like kids, not realizing that these men were hardened combat veterans. These guys decided to have fun with the old professor who was staying in his own tent, which was off by itself. They took bacon grease and smeared it on the tent ropes. Not too long after the professor put in for the night all hell broke loose. There were several large bears licking the ropes like guitar strings and the professor was running around inside the tent screaming to beat the band. This went on for several hours. The next morning the professor had a newfound appreciation for his students.

[TaRaRaBoomDeAyGoreLostToday!]

Ahhhhhh this is not anything I have heard. And the tricks on Russian airliners sounds far fetched IMO.

Going 'to get a bucket of steam' said to a new recruit is more in line to any stories.

Someone is pulling your chain.

No US Navy personnel would play tricks with civilians, foreign or domestic.

[Washington-Husky]

This happened when I was at my first duty station - a Navy Patrol squadron stationed at NAS Brunswick, Maine.

I was aircrew on P-3 Orions, and for those who aren’t familiar with P-3’s, the Navy’s P-3 Orion is the military version of the old Lockheed Electra – only the Navy version has shorter and stiffer wings – and that makes them bounce a lot more in rough flight.

Anyway, one day my aircrew was tasked to take a crew of young submarine officers from one of the subs stationed down at New London, Connecticut, out for a “fam flight”. So, we and our guests took off from Brunswick and headed out over the Gulf of Maine where we worked with a U.S. submarine for several hours, dropping sonobuoys around it, tracking it, etc., all kinds of stuff to show the young sub officers what airborne sub-hunting was all about.

Well, the problem started as soon as we descended down on station to simulate close aboard attack runs. We brought our P-3 down to about 300 feet or so off the water, and at that elevation, the plane really takes a lot of buffeting, because you have all that lower elevation turbulence caused by the ocean. I had long since gotten used to this turbulence, but for those who are new to P-3 flying, those low altitude operations over open water can be extremely rough going, causing nasty air sickness.

In a matter of minutes, after a little bouncing around, we had about half a dozen young officers all running to the back, violently retching their guts out in this big trash can we had in the back of the plane. It was gawd-awful to witness… but kind of funny, too! The only sub officer who wasn’t puking his guts out was the senior officer of the crew, some weathered old Lieutenant Commander. I’ll never forget the twinkle in his eye as he and I exchanged grin-suppressing glances at these quite green “greenhorns” puking their guts out.

I was a smoker back in those days, too, and I remember that the LCDR was a smoker as well. Well, to “sweeten” the deal, both of us puffed away on cigarettes, and that nasty cigarette smoke didn’t help matters for all those airsick newbies.

Anyway, I’m sure those young submarine officers departed our P-3 community with a new-found respect for airborne subhunters.

[Rebelbase]

I heard Gordon Liddy tell a funny one from his time in the army.

He was on guard duty at the base gate when a young private came waking up after being out on leave all night. Liddy asked him where he had been, and the kid told him he had been in Tiajuana (not sure of town). Liddy, said "I hope you were not with any of the ladies down there because there is a raging clap being spread around"

Shaken, the kid admitted that he had been with one of the street ladies and wanted to know what to do. Liddy told him to lather his johnson in vasoline and then wrap it in toilet paper, keep it that way for a week.

A couple of days later the company officer called for a clap inspection where all the company had to line up and drop their drawers.

Liddy said he could hardly stand up from laughing so hard when the officer looked at the mess hanging between the kid's legs and said "What the hell is that!?"

[ItisaReligionofPeace]

I'll ask the guy more about it next time I run into him...we were at a bar, so it may have been just a bar story.

[Washington-Husky]

If it is a true story, he may well be advised to not go around blabbing it too loudly, as the NIS, the FAA, the FBI (and I'm sure the Russian FSB) would all just love to talk to him, if you get my drift! ;)

[Young Werther]

I was the Officer in Charge of an inspection team which traveled the DEW Line. We had reached Cambridge Bay which is about 1200 north of Winnipeg. There was a town of about 1500 Canadian fisherman with an RCMP office, a school and hospital.

this was early August of '69 and the site had an early VCR so we acutally saw video of the Apollo landing.

That weekend the eventual party broke out. The daylight was still about 20 hours per day so , "it got drunk out awfully early!"

The junior USAF officer had pulled surveillance duty during the party. By the time he was off duty our plans were complete.

We had learned that this officer had finished surveillance school and had married his high school sweet heart before leaving on theis remote tour. The DEW Line Safety Officer was on site and part of this training gear was "Resucci Anne" that portable CPR training aid with long blonde hair!!

When this second looey arrived in the military bar we told him that he needed to catch, up so we began to ply him with alcohol. In short order he was very pliable. We then led him to his room and explained that we understood his sexual plight and we had convinced one of the nurses from the local hospital that he needed some tender loving care. We thrust him into his room where "Anne" was tucked into his bed.

We listened at the door as he stuttered in a drunken hazy, "Hey lady,...look lady.. I'm married and I think you should get up and go home. There was a few moments of silence and then we began to hear what amounted to furtive foreplay. Then we heard, "Okay..let's do it.!" We burst into this room and he was sitting on the bed holding Anne by the hair and laughing uncontrollable. Gotcha!!

[fella]

My brother had a simular story to tell. Only it happened during the very early 50s during the build up for Korea at Indian Town Gap. He was assigned to a recon unit in a war game. they were assigned to locate the opposition tanks and report back. Instead they painted the white stars on the tanks red and returned. The next day the whole platoon was called on the carpet for destroying government property but no one owned up to doing the deed and nobody ratted so they all got restricted to barrecks, KP, etc. etc. Then they were shipped out and got to fight for real.

[ItisaReligionofPeace]

I only know his first name...I think it was Raoul. lol

[Young Werther]

In Octobr 69 we reached Cape Dyer DEW Line Site on the east coast of Baffin Island. One night, at the military bar we met a Maj Cooper who was traveling throughout Baffin Island. His mission was to catch a white falcon. He was assigned to the USAF Academy as a flight instructor, but more important was his rare hobby. He practiced the ancient art of falconry. He was keeper of the USAF mascots and now he was in Canada to replenish the stock of white falcons.

He was getting ready to return to the academy and as luck would have it he hadn't caught any falcons.

As is the case at the bar the inevitable was asked. "How do you catch a falcon?" He described a girdle that a pigeon was fitted with. It had slip knots built into this canvas girdle. A hook and eye was attached to a deep sea fishing reel. Once fitted, the pigeon would be allowed to fly in the area where falcons were nesting. When the falcon tried to catch the pigeon its talons would get snared by the slip knots and you reeled both birds in.

My inspection team left for Greenland the following day. We completed our inspection in five weeks and returned to Cape Dyer to await a Christmas flight home. Our first night in the bar we met one of the USAF surveillance officers. After a few pleasantries, he blurted out, "Guess what? I caught a falcon!" We filled his glass and he told us the story. When Major Cooper left this junior officer had asked what Major Cooper was going to do with the pigeons. Major Cooper said he would set them free. Whereupon the junior officer asked if he could have one as a pet. Major Cooper agreed. Several days later the Site Manager advised the second looey that pets were not allowed on a DEW Line site. The second looey said, "Well this isn't a pet. I'm gonna catch a flacon for Major Cooper" Based on just sso much bar talk he built the rig, went out to the garbage dump, and within an hour caught a falcon. He didn't know what to do so he called the Air Force Academy and got through to Major Cooper. Major Cooper was stunned but helpful. He directed that the falcon be placed in large cardboard box with holes in it. Wring the pigeons neck and put it in the box. Give it to the local RCAF officer and the transit would be arranged by Major Cooper.

The major upshot of this bar story was that the falcon that had been caught was a female. Major Cooper was pleased as punch that he could re-establish a breeding program for the academy mascots.

The morale of the story is, pay attention. Bar room stories can have a happy ending.

[Lazamataz]

He practiced the ancient art of falconry.

I am getting into falconry as well.

[aomagrat]

My ship pulled in to Pearl Harbor for some R&R, and me and some shipmates checked into a fancy Waikiki hotel. While my buddies were out on (another) beer run, I was out on the room balcony eating doritos and drinking beer, and a pigeon landed on the rail. I tossed a dorito on the deck for the pigeon and almost immediantly I was knee deep in pigeons. Due to the beer, I got a sick idea. I opened the sliding glass door behind me and backed into the room. I tossed a handful of doritos to the floor and a bunch of pigeons came into the room after them. I backed across the room and into the hall, tossing doritos as I went. The pigeons followed. I backed down the hall to the elevator, still tossing doritos. The pigeons followed. I pressed the elevator button, feeding the pigeons while wainting for the elevator. When the elevator door opened I tossed in a handful of doritos and the pigeons went into the elevator after them. I reached in and pressed the lobby button. The doors closed and the pigeons went down to the lobby. I went back to the room to await the return of the shipmates who went on a beer run. Only a few minutes later they returned roaring with laughter. They were in the lobby waiting for the elevator. When it opened, dozens of pigeons flew out, startling the people waiting. They said people were running around screaming. We all had a big laugh, and when we checked out two days later, there were still pigeons in the rafters in the lobby.

[Non-Sequitur]

This probably falls under the category of too much preparation. My ship was tied up at our home port of Charleston and I had the duty. We were breaking in a brand new bosun’s mate of the watch and all was going well until I received a phone call telling me that commanding officer of a cruiser moored down the way was coming onboard to discuss some upcoming exercises with our CO. There is a ritual to be followed when senior officers come onboard which involves ringing the ship’s bell and announcing their arrival over the internal communications system. Not being overly impressed so far with my Bosun’s Mate I decided that a little refresher training was in order. Senior officers coming onboard are identified by the name of their ship, I reminded him. You strike the bell four times, I reminded him, not to fast and not to slow. I even went so far as to giving him an example, “Ding, Ding…Ding, Ding…Virginia arriving.” After a few minutes of this he assured me that he had it right. So fast forward about half an hour to the big moment. The CO of the Virginia, a full Captain, strides down the brow. My CO and XO are arrayed behind me, and as I return the Captains salute I hear the click and hum of the 1MC and the strong, confident voice of my Bosun’s mate as he says, “Ding, ding…ding, ding…Virginia arriving.”

[Squantos]

Quick way to remember friend or foe eh ......

Stay Safe !

[ItisaReligionofPeace]

Both of your stories are hilarious!

[Lazamataz]

Comon man, tell me your story. Mine's kinda lame, the author of this thread skipped over mine to compliment some other people's, so maybe you can score a hit.

[Non-Sequitur]

Both of them are fine examples of a 'sea story'. Sea stories are naval folklore passed from sailor to sailor down through the years. They are sometimes confused with fairy tales, but there is an easy way to tell the difference. Fairy tales begin with the words "Once upon a time..." Sea stories all begin with the words "Now this is no sh*t..."

[aomagrat]

Remember this thread?

101 Sea Stories and Some Token Miscellaneous BS from All Ye Scoundrels Who Ought to be Keelhauled