Military Jokes

My father was transferred to a new Navy base when I was four, so my parents quizzed me about our address. After I recited it perfectly, the test continued. “City?” they asked. “Memphis,” I answered. “State?” “Tennessee.” “Country?” “ ’Tis of thee.” Jennifer Kirksey, Freedom, California

Try to stay in the middle of the air. Do not go 
near the edges of it. The edges of the air can be recognized by the 
appearance of ground, buildings, sea, trees, and interstellar space. It 
is much more difficult to fly there.

You’ve never been lost until you’ve been lost at Mach 3. Paul F. Crickmore, test pilot

Headline from the Times Herald-Record (Newburgh, New York): West Point Cadets Train for Life in Iraq with Weekend in N.J.

As I headed into a liquor store, a colonel came out carrying two bags. I snapped to attention and saluted. The colonel responded in kind. The result: the soul-crunching sound of both bags crashing to the sidewalk. As liquor seeped into the gutter, he choked out, “Don’t ever salute me again!” Chuck Munroe, Chesterfield, Missouri

Sign above the toilet in a women’s latrine at Camp Ripley in Minnesota: “If you are reading this sign while using this latrine, you are in the wrong one.” Mike Lins, Savage, Minnesota

After leaving the Army, I applied for a hunting permit but was told I would first need to take a hunter’s safety course. “I’m a veteran, trained in handling firearms,” I said. “Why wouldn’t I get a waiver?” The clerk replied, “Because we teach you not to shoot people.” Fred Jarrett, Norfolk, New York

Few civilians know what a quartermaster does. So during my aircraft carrier’s Family Day, I demonstrated a procedure called semaphore—I grabbed my flags and signaled an imaginary ship. Then I asked a little girl, “Now do you know what I do?” She said, “You’re a cheerleader.” —Danny Sullivan

Combat rules soldiers should know: • Never share a foxhole with 
anyone braver than you. • Never look important; the enemy may be low on ammo. • Never draw fire; it irritates everyone around you. • Never forget that your weapon is made by the lowest bidder.

When our ship stopped in the Atlantic Ocean for a “swim call,” the chief boatswain noticed how nervous I was. “Don’t worry,” he assured me. “You are never more than three miles from land.” Then he added, “Straight down.” —Robert McPaul, Millsboro, Delaware

Our drill instructor was at the end of his rope: An airman’s ineptitude was driving him crazy. Getting in the airman’s face, he demanded, “Whoever told you to join the Air Force?!” Snapping to attention, the airman proclaimed, “The Navy recruiter, Sir.” —James Hetlinger, Webb City, Missouri

Visiting a new port is always exciting, and when our destroyer docked in Kiel, Germany, it was no different. In fact, one of my men was awestruck. "Look, Chief," he whispered excitedly. "They have Volkswagens over here too!"

During my time in the Navy, everyone was getting KP or guard duty except me. Not wanting to get in trouble, I asked the ensign why. "What's your name?" he asked. "Michael Zyvoloski." "That's why. I can't pronounce it, much less spell it."

I didn't enlist in the Army -- I was drafted. So I wasn't going to make life easy for anyone. During my physical, the doctor asked softly, "Can you read the letters on the wall?"

"What letters?" I answered slyly.

"Good," said the doctor. "You passed the hearing test."

 

There were tons of vending machines on base, and as the supply sergeant, I was responsible for all of them. So I pulled in a private and had him count the money. An hour later, he was finished. "Good," I said. "What's the count?" He replied, "I have 210 quarters, 180 dimes and 35 nickels."

Few people know what a quartermaster does. So during my aircraft carrier's Family Day, I demonstrated a procedure called semaphore—I grabbed my flags and signaled an imaginary boat. When finished, I pointed to a little girl in front and asked, "Now do you know what I do?" "Yes," she said. "You're a cheerleader."

When my very pregnant niece, a sergeant in the New York Army National Guard, accidentally knocked over a glass of water, one of her soldiers volunteered to help clean it up. As he was mopping up the mess, an officer walked in.

"Private, what's going on in here?" he asked.

To the officer's horror, the private replied, "Sir, the sergeant's water broke, and I'm helping her clean up."

Upon returning from a stint in Iraq, my sister insisted that the best part about being home was having real food again: "The Lunchables I had for breakfast was great!"

I'd been secretly dating for several months, and it was time to break the news to my very protective father. My mother thought he'd take it better if she explained to him that my boyfriend was a Marine who had just returned from Iraq. This pleased Dad immensely.

"A Marine? Good!" he said. "That means he can take orders."

I was in our local VA hospital when a clerk began scolding a veteran who’d lit up a cigarette in a no-smoking area. "Sir!" she barked. "When did you start smoking?"

The conversation came to a halt when he replied, "In Vietnam, right after that first bomb dropped."

After I spoke at a grade school assembly about veterans, a student asked, "Were you ever in a war?"

"Yes, two," I said. "World War II and Korea."

The girl's follow-up question: "Which war did you like best?"

I was in Afghanistan speaking with a reporter as a soldier packed her things. The major came over and noticed some odd-looking pieces of cloth on her cot.

"What are you doing with all these eye patches?" he asked, lifting one up.

Taking it from him, she mumbled, "Um ... this is my thong underwear."

Before he was deployed to Afghanistan, my brother Ken was lamenting over how many people seemed unaware of the conflict. I had to concede his point when I later mentioned to a neighbor that he was leaving for Afghanistan.

"Really?" he said. "For business or pleasure?"

My husband and I were watching Forrest Gump at the base theater. The crowd was pretty quiet throughout the film, until the scene when Forrest graduates from college and is met by an Army recruiter. That was met with a shout from behind us: "Run, Forrest, run!"

During World War II, selective service wasn't always so selective. My nearsighted friend went before the draft board to explain just how poor his vision was. "If I lose my glasses, I won't be able to see at all," he told them.

"Don't you worry," replied the sergeant in charge. "When we attack, we'll stick you in front of the battalion. You won't miss a thing."

After visiting my son at his base, I complained to my brother-in-law: "Security there is so tight, you practically have to give up your firstborn to get in."

He replied, "You did."

As the soldier drove up to the Air Force base gate, my husband, who was on security detail at the time, had an inkling that the driver might have had a few. What gave him away? The guy thought he was at a tollbooth and handed my husband a dollar bill.

The chief and I were on our submarine trying in vain to hook up some fire hoses. The wrenches we had didn't fit the connections, so he resorted to banging away at the hoses to make things fit. Just then an ensign walked by.

"Chief," he yelled out, "I have a book on tools you can borrow."

"Get it!" shouted the chief. "It's got to be heavier than this wrench I'm using."

I served in a parachute regiment. During a nighttime exercise, I was seated next to a young officer. He was looking a bit pale, so I asked, "Scared, lieutenant?"

"No," he replied. "Apprehensive."

"What's the difference?"

"That means I'm scared, but with a university education."

The day after the Haitian earthquake, I got a frantic call from my daughter in Florida. "What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nate's been called up by the National Guard. He's going to Haiti," she said. Then came the tears: "I didn't even know we were at war with Haiti!"

As a new paratrooper, I was struck by all the T-shirts on base emblazoned with the motto "Death from above!" Later I noticed a submariner with a T-shirt that declared "Death from below!"

Then, standing in line for chow one day, I was served by an Army cook. His T-shirt had a skull with a crossed fork and spoon underneath and yet another warning: "Death from within!"

My father was telling his young nephew about fighting in Vietnam.

"Are you a hero?" Jose asked.

"Nah," said Dad.

"Did you ever shoot anyone?"

"No. All I did was aim at 'em."

Pause … "Who's Adam?"

A brother of a student of mine showed me a photo their father had sent from Iraq. In it, his dad is sitting atop a tank. On the back of the tank is this bumper sticker: "My son is an honor student at Clear Creek Elementary School."

Marines are known for storming the beaches, not for romance. I witnessed this firsthand at the base in Twentynine Palms, California. One of the enlisted men complimented the receptionist's flowered jacket.

"It's very pretty," he said shyly.

"Thank you," she replied coyly.

"Yeah," he went on. "It looks just like my mother's sofa."

Like any mother, I worried when my son joined the Marines. But later on, when I asked him how things were going, he put my mind at ease.

"Let me put it this way, Mom," he said. "Living with you prepared me for boot camp."

When the Air Force deployed me overseas, my daughter’s friend asked her where I was headed.

"Guantánamo Bay," my daughter said.

"Oh, my God!" her friend shrieked. "What did he do?"

A letter I received from my son stationed in Baghdad:

Mom,
Yesterday I was part of a security detail for Kid Rock, Kellie Pickler, and comedian Lewis Black. This morning, I had breakfast with the Miami Dolphins Cheerleaders. War is hell.
Johnny

My daughter and her husband, naval reservists, have an eight-year-old son. When one of his parochial school classmates told my daughter that Angus had said a bad word, she said, "He can't help it. Both his parents are sailors."

An officer in my unit in Iraq was on the phone with his mom. She asked if there was anything he needed. Yes, he told her, lots of ChapStick.

There must have been something wrong with the connection. His mom sent him what she thought he asked for: 300 pairs of chopsticks.

While lopping branches off a tree in his yard, my warrant officer lacerated his leg with a chain saw, requiring a trip to the hospital and stitches. Our chief decided we should clean up the mess for him. On the office chalkboard were directions to his home, along with this clarification: "It's the house with the limbs in the yard."

Soon after being transferred to a new duty station, my Marine husband called home one evening to tell me he would be late. "Dirty magazines were discovered in the platoon quarters," he said, "and the whole squad is being disciplined."

I launched into a tirade, arguing that Marines should not be penalized for something so trivial.

My husband interrupted. "Honey, when I said ‘dirty magazines,’ I meant the clips from their rifles hadn’t been cleaned."

I was charged by the Coast Guard to buy a house near Station Rockland in Maine to be converted into military housing. But after many delays on our part, the owners' lawyer got antsy.

"I don't like working with the government," the man said. "I'm not sure I'd even trust one of your checks."

"I wouldn't worry," I replied. "Not only do we print our own checks, we also print the money to back them up."

All in the Family When my husband was away at basic training, my four-year-old daughter and I stayed with my sister. Since my daughter already called me Mommy, she started calling her aunt Mom—the way her six-year-old cousin did. One day, someone called. I picked up the extension and overheard the person ask my daughter if her daddy was home. She said, “No, he’s in the Army.” “Is your mom home?” he asked. “Yes, but she’s asleep with Uncle Danny. -- Tonya Aleisawi

Language Barrier As a young officer on the USS Midway, I was enjoying shore leave in Marseille. One day, I was invited to a local club to play tennis with two young Frenchwomen and a Norwegian man, who spoke only the most rudimentary English. After the doubles match, the Norwegian and I changed back into our street clothes and waited for the women to rejoin us. “You fly?” he said to me. I told him I was a ship's officer, not a naval aviator. After a pause to take in my response, he tried again. “You fly,” he said slowly, “is open.” -- Jim E. Davis

War Tags After returning home from basic training, our friend’s son told us about some of the interesting people he’d met, including one guy nicknamed Airborne. “Do the guys call him Airborne because he wants to be a paratrooper?” his mother asked. “No, that’s not it,” said her son. “He got that name because on his first night, he fell out of the bunk.” -- Judy Reid

Justice for All When I wear my Air Force uniform, strangers often come up to me to thank me for my service to the country. Once I was in the parking lot of a county jail, waiting to take custody of a military inmate. A prisoner walked by, carrying a bag of garbage to the Dumpster, escorted by a corrections officer. As he passed me, the inmate turned and—quite sincerely—said, “Thank you for my freedom!” before being taken back inside. -- Jeff Hood

Seriously Ill Some sailors have a well-deserved reputation for concocting excuses to get out of work detail. Case in point: My husband’s fellow officer got a call from a sailor saying he was sick and there was no way he could leave the barracks. “What’s wrong?” the lieutenant asked. “I’m in a coma,” he responded. -- Hannah Thornton

Just after my father, who was a career Air Force NCO, passed away, all my brothers and sisters returned home to be with Mom. As we reminisced about my dad, we found ourselves floating from sorrow to laughter as we brought up fond memories of our nomadic military lifestyle. One morning we were discussing what music should be played at the funeral and several hymns were suggested. "But, Mom," my older sister said, "since Daddy was in the Air Force, shouldn't we request the Air Force song?"

"No, dear," my mother said with a smile. "We are not playing a song with the words 'Off we go into the wild blue yonder' at your father's funeral!"

 

Sixteen years is a long time. That's how far the photo of my husband—looking slim and fit in his Marine Reserve uniform—goes back. Today, he's about 100 pounds heavier, so it was understandable when my friend's son asked who it was.

"That's my father," my daughter told him.

Looking at my husband, then at the photo, he asked, "Your first father?"

 

As he reviewed pilot crash reports, my Air Force military science professor stumbled upon this understated entry: "After catastrophic engine failure, I landed long. As I had no power, the landing gear failed to deploy and no braking was available. I bounced over the stone wall at the end of the runway, struck the trailer of a truck while crossing the perimeter road, crashed through the guardrail, grazed a large pine tree, ran over a tractor parked in the adjacent field, and hit another tree. Then I lost control."

 

Marine Corps pilots and aircraft maintenance technicians have a special bond. So I was unfazed when a flyboy described a vexing problem.

"The radio," he said, "worked intermittently … but only sometimes."

Officer candidate school at Fort Sill, Oklahoma, was tough. During an inspection, a fellow soldier received 30 demerits for a single penny found within his area. Ten demerits were for "valuables insecure," ten because the penny wasn't shined, and ten because Abraham Lincoln needed a shave.

Distrustful of Army chefs' culinary talents, my father quizzed the top cook at his base. How did he know when the food was ready to be served? Dad asked. "Easy," said the sergeant, glaring back.

"When it's burning, it's cooking. When it's smoking, it's done." 

1940s "Once in Virginia," said a speaker who had received an introduction that promised more than he felt he could deliver, "I passed a small church displaying a large sign. It read 'Annual Strawberry Festival' and, below in small letters, 'On account of the Depression, prunes will be served.'" --Boston Transcript 1950s The best advice I ever received came to me from my ensign when I was a Wave at boot camp. She told me, "To stay out of trouble, say 'Yes, sir' all day and 'No, sir' all night." --Anonymous 1960s A friend and I were hitchhiking, but no one would stop. "Maybe it's our long hair," I joked. With that, my friend scrawled on a piece of cardboard: "Going to the barber's." Within seconds we had our ride. --Raymond Butkus 1970s A male friend of mine, an engineer at an aircraft company, works for a woman supervisor. An active member of women's lib groups, she often shows up at work wearing buttons featuring feminist slogans. One day, her latest button, "Adam was a rough draft," proved too much for my friend. The next day, he showed up at work sporting his own button: "Eve was no prime rib." --Phyllis Reely 1980s While I was shopping in a pharmacy, a couple of teenagers came in. They were dressed in leather, chains, and safety pins. The boy had blue and purple spiked hair and the girl's hair was bright yellow. Suddenly the boy picked up a pair of sunglasses and tried them on. "What do you think?" he asked his girlfriend. "Take them off!" she howled. "They make you look ridiculous." --Audrey Kelly 1990s My brother Jim was hired by a government agency and assigned to a small office cubicle in a large area. At the end of his first day, he realized he had no idea how to get out. He wandered around, lost in the maze of cubicles and corridors. Just as panic began to set in, he came upon another employee in a cubicle. "How do you get out of here?" Jim asked. The fellow smiled and said, "No cheese for you." --Christine Probasco 2000s I am five feet three inches tall and pleasingly plump. After I had a minor accident, my mother accompanied me to the emergency room. The triage nurse asked for my height and weight, and I blurted out, "Five-foot-eight and 125 pounds." "Sweetheart," my mother gently chided, "this is not the Internet." --M.M.

Approaching a GI who had just arrived in South Vietnam, I asked him how long he expected to be here. "Well," he replied, "the sergeant told us we'd be here for 12 months and two Bob Hope specials or one Purple Heart, whichever comes first."

The trials and tribulations of our sons, daughters, parents, and friends in the military.

In a lecture to a group of Korean officers, Lieut. Gen. Bruce C. Clarke, at that time deputy commander of the Eighth Army in Korea, took two or three minutes to tell his favorite joke. His interpreter then quickly translated the joke, using only seven or eight words. Everyone immediately burst into hearty laughter. After the lecture General Clarke asked the interpreter how he had been able to retell such a relatively long joke so quickly.

"Well, sir," the Korean interpreter replied, "I didn't think everyone would get the point, so I said, 'The general has just told a joke. Everyone will please laugh.'"

 

 

The trials and tribulations of our sons, daughters, parents, and friends in the military.

During my Air Force basic training, I cracked the frames of my eyeglasses. After taping them, I applied for new frames. I didn't get them, so I applied again at each base to which I was sent. After four years, and just before my discharge, I received nine sets of frames—all marked "Rush."

 

 

In honor of Memorial Day, the teacher I worked with read the Constitution to her third-grade class. After reading "We the people," she paused to ask the children what they thought that meant. One boy raised his hand and asked, "Is that like 'We da bomb?' "    

Pointing to a pan of chicken wings and legs disguised in the classic mess-hall manner, a young airman asked the mess sergeant, "What's for chow?"

"Air Force chicken," replied the sergeant. "You want wings or landing gear?"

After being at sea in the Persian Gulf for 90 straight days, I went to the squadron command master chief to complain. "Chief, I joined the Navy to see the world," I said, "but for the past three months all I've seen is water."

"Lieutenant," he replied, "three-quarters of the earth is covered with water, and the Navy has been showing you that. If you wanted to see the other quarter, you should have joined the Army."

Having helped prepare the annual budget for my unit of the Seventh Army Special Troops in Heidelberg, Germany, I took the report to the office of the adjutant, who signs all official papers. The adjutant was not in, but his assistant, a young lieutenant, was.

He gasped as I handed him the huge sheaf of charts, figures and explanations. "What am I supposed to do with this?" he asked.

"You have to sign it, sir."

"Thank goodness," he said, sighing with relief. "I thought I had to read it."

On a business trip, my father approached a security checkpoint at the airport. The National Guard shift was rotating, and a guard, in full uniform, was in line in front of him. As with everybody else, the soldier was ordered to go through the metal detector. Before doing so, he handed his M-16 rifle to security personnel along with other items such as handcuffs and a flashlight. Still the alarm sounded when he walked through. Further inspection revealed a Swiss army knife inside one of his pockets.

"Sorry, sir," security said to the soldier, "but this item is prohibited." Taking the knife away, the airport worker then handed him back the M-16.

The colonel who served as inspector general in our command paid particular attention to how personnel wore their uniforms. On one occasion he spotted a junior airman with a violation. "Airman," he bellowed, "what do you do when a shirt pocket is unbuttoned?"

The startled airman replied, "Button it, sir!"

The colonel looked him in the eye and said, "Well?"

At that, the airman nervously reached over and buttoned the colonel's shirt pocket.

 

 

When I was an infantry platoon commander, my Marines trained regularly for nighttime reconnaissance patrol. As we moved along, each of us would whisper the name of any obstacle to the person behind so that no one would be surprised and utter a cry that would disclose our position.

During one exercise, the lead man in the formation occasionally turned around and whispered to me "Log" or "Rock," which I would pass along. Suddenly there was a crash ahead of me and, from several feet down, I heard a single whispered word—"Hole."

 

Serving as a Marine recruiter in western North Carolina, I found a young man who met all the requirements and was ready to enlist. I explained the importance of being truthful on the application, and he began filling out his paperwork. But when he got to the question "Do you own any foreign property or have any foreign financial interests?" he looked up at me with a worried expression. "Well," he confessed, "I do own a Toyota." We enlisted him the next day.

After joining the Navy, my husband underwent a physical. During the exam, it was discovered that, due to an abnormality, he couldn't fully extend his arms above his head. Perplexed, the doctor conferred with another doctor.

"Let him pass," suggested the second doctor. "I don't see any problems unless he has to surrender."

 

 

Notice seen on the bulletin board of a Florida air base: "The following enlisted men will pick up their Good Conduct medals in the supply room this afternoon. Failure to comply with this order will result in disciplinary action."

Spotted on T-shirts for sale in the Ponce de Leon Coast Guard Exchange:

"Support Your Local Coast Guard…Get Lost."

To mail a big package of cookies to my two Air Force sons, both of whom were serving in Saudi Arabia, I was required to attach a label describing the contents. I carefully marked the box "Cookies" and sent it off, but after a month my sons said they had yet to receive my package.

Suspicious, I baked another batch, only this time I labeled the contents "Health Food." Within a week my sons reported they had received the goodies.

Safety is job one in the Air Force. Overstating the obvious is job two, as I discovered when crawling into my military-issue sleeping bag. The label read: "In case of an emergency, unzip and exit through the top."

While standing watch in the Coast Guard station in Juneau, Alaska, I got a call from the Navy in the nearby city of Adak. They had lost contact with one of their planes, and they needed the Coast Guard to send an aircraft to go find it. I asked the man where the Navy aircraft had last been spotted so we would know where to search.

"I can't tell you," the Navy man said. "That's classified."

My brother and I arrived at boot camp together. On the first morning, our unit was dragged out of bed by our drill sergeant and made to assemble outside. "My name's Sergeant Jackson," he snarled. "Is there anyone here who thinks he can whip me?"

My six-foot-three, 280-pound brother raised his hand and said, "Yes, sir, I do."

Our sergeant grabbed him by the arm and led him out in front of the group. "Men," he said, "this is my new assistant. Now, is there anyone here who thinks he can whip both of us?"

 

 

One of my jobs in the Army is to give service members and their families tours of the demilitarized zone in South Korea. Before taking people to a lookout point to view North Korea, we warn visitors to watch their heads climbing the stairs, as there is a low overhang. The tour guide, first to the top, gets to see how many people have not heeded his advice.

On one tour I watched almost an entire unit hit their heads one after another as they came up the stairs. Curious, I asked their commander what unit they were from.

"Military intelligence," he replied.

When my husband visited our son, Michael, at boot camp, he found him marching smartly with his unit. Michael's father proudly approached the soldiers and began to snap photo after photo. Embarrassed and worried about getting into trouble, Michael looked straight ahead and didn't change his expression.

Suddenly his drill sergeant barked, "Comito, give me 25 push-ups. And the next time your daddy wants your picture, you smile!"