Posted on 02/23/2003 11:19:02 PM PST by 68-69TonkinGulfYachtClub
The Politically Correct Battlefield
They're not our enemy; they're our socio-political compliment.
We don't damage their aircraft; we make unauthorized in-flight modifications.
We don't spy; we deal in unreleased information.
They're not casualties; they're inoperative battle units.
We don't have scouts; we have unauthorized observers.
We don't miss; we fail to effectively engage the target.
We don't waste missiles; we run a non-cost-effective equipment exchange.
We don't attack; we aggressively move into pre-occupied territory.
We don't retreat; we reconsolidate at a previously held position.
We don't waste money, we fail to effectively utilize funding.
We're not at war; we're sanctioning with extreme prejudice.
Mom's wisdom
As the family gathered for a big dinner together, the youngest son had an announcement to make:
He'd just signed up at an army recruiter's office.
There were audible gasps around the table, then some laughter,
as his older brothers shared their disbelief that he could handle this new situation.
"Oh, come on, quit pulling our legs," snickered one: "You didn't really do that, did you?"
"I'm positive you'd never get through basic training" scoffed another.
The new recruit looked to his mother for help; but she was just gazing at him.
When she finally spoke, it was to voice a single question:
"Do you really plan to make your own bed every morning?"
Wild Kid
As a crowded airliner is about to take off, the peace is shattered by a 5-year-old boy
who picks that moment to throw a wild temper tantrum.
No matter what his frustrated, embarrassed mother does to try to calm him down,
the boy continues to scream furiously and kick the seats around him.
Suddenly, from the rear of the plane, an elderly man in the uniform
of an Air Force General is seen slowly walking forward up the aisle.
Stopping the flustered mother with an upraised hand, the white-haired, courtly,
soft-spoken General leans down and, motioning toward his chest, whispers something into the boy's ear.
Instantly, the boy calms down, gently takes his mother's hand, and quietly fastens his seat belt.
All the other passengers burst into spontaneous applause.
As the General slowly makes his way back to his seat, one of the cabin attendants touches his sleeve.
"Excuse me, General," she asks quietly, "but could I ask you what magic words you used on that little boy?"
The old man smiles serenely and gently confides,
"I showed him my pilot's wings, service stars, and battle ribbons,
and explained that they entitle me to throw one passenger out the plane door on any flight I choose."
Chopper crash
While practicing autorotations during a military night training exercise
a Huey Cobra screwed up the landing and landed on the tail rotor.
The landing was so hard that it broke off the tail boom.
However, the chopper fortunately remained upright on its skids, sliding down the runway doing 360s.
As the Cobra slid past the tower, trailing a brilliant shower of sparks,
this was the radio exchange that took place...
Tower: "Sir, do you need any assistance?"
Cobra: "I don't know Tower, we ain't done crashin' yet."
Pilots jokes
What is the ideal cockpit crew?
A pilot and a dog.
The pilot is there to feed the dog, and the dog is there to bite the pilot in case he tries to touch anything.
How many pilots does it take to change a lightbulb?
Just one. He holds the bulb, and the world revolves around him.
How do you know if there is an pilot at your party?
He'll tell you.
What's the difference between God and pilots?
God doesn't think he's a pilot....
What is the difference between an pilot and a pig?
The pig doesn't turn into an aviator when it's drunk.
What do pilots use for birth control?
Their personality.
What is the difference between an pilot and a jet engine?
A jet engine stops whining when it pulls up to the gate.
The difference between the Boy Scouts and the U.S. Air Force?
The boy Scouts have adult supervision.
Seeking Protection
You've all heard of the Air Force's ultra-high-security, super-secret base in Nevada,
known simply as "Area 51?"
Well, late one afternoon, the Air Force folks out at Area 51 were very surprised to see
a Cessna landing at their "secret" base.
They immediately impounded the aircraft and hauled the pilot into an interrogation room.
The pilot's story was that he took off from Vegas, got lost,
and spotted the Base just as he was about to run out of fuel.
The Air Force started a full FBI background check on the pilot
and held him overnight during the investigation.
By the next day, they were finally convinced that the pilot really was lost and wasn't a spy.
They gassed up his airplane, gave him a terrifying "you-did-not-see-a-base" briefing,
complete with threats of spending the rest of his life in prison,
told him Vegas was that-a-way on such and such a heading, and sent him on his way.
The next day, to the total disbelief of the Air Force, the same Cessna showed up again.
Once again, the MP's surrounded the plane... only this time there were two people in the plane.
The same pilot jumped out and said,
"Do anything you want to me, but my wife is in the plane and you have to tell her where I was last night!"
I apologize if you'all know this one. (^:
Dear Pa & Ma,
Am well, hope you are too. Tell brother Walt and brother Elmer the Marine Corps beats working for old man Minch by a mile. Tell them to join up quick before all of the places are filled. I was restless at first because you got to stay in bed till nearly 6 a.m., but am getting so I like to sleep late.
Tell Walt & Elmer all you do before breakfast is smooth your cot and shine some things. No hogs to slop, feed to pitch, mash to mix, wood to split, fire to lay. Practically nothing. Men got to shave but it is not so bad, they git warm water. Breakfast is strong on trimmings. Like fruit juice, cereal, eggs, bacon, etc., but kind of weak on chops, potatoes, ham, steak, fried eggplant, pie, and other regular food. But tell Walt & Elmer you can always sit between two city boys that live on coffee. Their food plus yours holds you till noon, when you get fed again.
It's no wonder these city boys can't walk much. We go on "route" marches with the Platoon Sergeant says are long walks to harden us. If he thinks so, it is not my place to tell him different. A "route march" is about as far as to our mailbox at home. Then the city guys get sore feet and we all ride back in trucks.
The country is nice, but awful flat. The Sergeant is like a school teacher. He nags some. The Capt. is like the school board. Majors and Colonels just ride around & frown. They don't bother you none. This next will kill Walt & Elmer with laughing. I keep getting medals for shooting. I don't know why. The bulls-eye is near and as big as a chipmunk and don't move. And it ain't shooting at you, like the Higgett boys at home. All you gotta do is lie there all comfortable and hit it. You don't even load your own cartridges. They come in boxes.
Be sure to tell Walt & Elmer to hurry and join before other fellers get onto this setup & come stampeding in.
Your loving daughter, Gail
May they join the party?
I will take care of the ceremony if you can truly issue such a decree!
Back to the grind.
Ha! I love it! Thank ya' Cowgirl.
Thanks, Sam, for the news on our Troops. I see that they could use some really good sun block - the poor kids.
To all the new faces here, WELCOME, and hope to catch you here more often - you won't regret it. This is a crazy bunch but you will be guaranteed a good time.
Beautiful poem, bentfeather! We are so fortunate to have been graced by a talent such as yours and immensely grateful for sharing it with us.
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