Humor in Uniform

by Editors of Reader's Digest

  — LOUISE AND RICHARD JONES

  When my husband, Bill, was stationed in Germany, our four-year-old son, Darren, would often help me think of gifts to send him. So on learning that Bill would be coming home in late fall, I told Darren we should have a Christmas surprise waiting for him. But I was taken aback by the gift Darren requested for his father from the mall’s Santa Claus. “Please, Santa,” he asked, “bring me a little brother so we’ll have a surprise for Daddy when he comes home.”

  — JUNE B. SCHUH

  * * *

  Sign posted in the Army recruiting office:

  Marry a veteran, girls. He can cook, make beds, sew and is already used to taking orders.

  — BRIAN DION

  * * *

  I attended airborne training, where I spent three weeks learning how to pack parachutes and land without hurting myself. I completed five jumps and received my wings. After I returned home, my wife had done a load of laundry and I was helping her fold it. “I can’t believe it,” she said, after watching me for a while. “You made five jumps with chutes you packed yourself, and you can’t even fold a fitted sheet!”

  — COL. JAMES T. CURRIE

  Love ‘em As They Are

  A retired navy admiral, my father began a second career working in a bank. One morning, while he prepared his desk for the day, he was approached by a young officer from the nearby naval base. “Sorry, but the department isn’t open yet,” Dad said. “But, it’s nine o’clock!” protested the officer. My father didn’t look at his watch. Instead, he surveyed his customer’s uniform. “Ensign,” he snapped, “I’ll decide when it’s nine o’clock!”

  — SUSAN N. BOLINGER

  My daughter, then a member of the Oregon Air National Guard, and I were waiting for the driver who would take her to the airport, where she would catch a flight for an overseas assignment. There she stood, punk hair style, three earrings in one ear, bulky sweater, bright red pants, and brass-toed boots. Turning to me, she said, “I’m sure glad they didn’t make us wear our uniforms on this trip. I hate to look conspicuous.”

  — MARY BENTLY-GARDNER

  On a shopping trip with my daughter, a Navy flight surgeon, I noticed that one item on her list was Snoopy bandages. She said that they were for some of her patients who were unnecessarily upset by their minor scratches and routine shots. Beaming with maternal pride, I told her how thoughtful she was to make the officers’ children so happy. “Children?” She said, “Mother, these are for the pilots.”

  — FRAN SOLOMON SMITH

  I spent several years as a submariner, and while at sea we would have a celebration halfway through a patrol. On one such night, the captain, who was serving dinner to the crew, tried to put some vegetables on a recruit’s plate. The young seaman wouldn’t take them. “With all due respect, sir, ” the recruit said, “I don’t eat them for my mother, and she outranks you.”

  — MARK WIDMAN

  When I was at Fort Dix, N.J. for army basic training, my father, an air force master sergeant, was stationed at Dover Air Force Base in Delaware. I got a weekend pass, and Dad picked me up Friday evening so we could drive home to Massachusetts. On the way, we stopped at a diner. I was wearing my dress greens and Dad was in dress blues. The waitress looked puzzled as she took our order. “Is something wrong, Ma’am?” I asked. “It’s unusual to see men in different services traveling together,” she explained. “That’s nothing,” Dad replied. “He’s taking me home to sleep with his mother!”

  — DOUGLAS MOORE

  When my best friend, James, came home on his first army leave, my little brother asked him what he did in the service. “I do calisthenics, shoot guns, and follow orders,” James replied. Walking in town that day, James and I ran into a buddy who also asked him what he did in the service. James gave the same reply, “I do calisthenics, shoot guns, and follow orders.” A while later, we met a former classmate, an attractive woman, and she asked the same question. This time James said, “I’m studying communications, learning foreign languages, and traveling around the world.”

  — JAMES D. ANGLETON

  While we stood at attention during a parade, the private next to me waved to someone in the audience. “Jones, never do that again!” our drill instructor sternly whispered. But a few minutes later, the soldier waved a second time. Back in the barracks after the parade, the DI barreled in and barked for Jones to come front and center. “Son, you knew I was going to see you,” he screamed. ”You knew it was wrong. Aren’t you afraid of me?” “Yes, sir!” replied Jones. “But you don’t know my mother!”

  — ANDREW G. RAMON

  * * *

  I didn’t think I had been gone that long. After 20 months overseas, my ship arrived in San Diego and, as soon as I got ashore, I phoned home.

  “Hi, Mom!” I said.

  “Who is this?” she answered.

  “Hello! I’m an only child.”

  — JOHN NEDDERMAN

  * * *

  I was chatting with a woman about my husband, Marryl, a marine stationed at Parris Island Recruit Training Depot. “What does he do there ?” she asked. “He teaches at the drill instructors’ school, “ I replied. She said, puzzled, “I figured they just got the meanest marines they could find and put them to work.”

  — HOLLY BRISBIN

  My husband Brent, our four-month-old baby and I were shopping when Brent remembered he had to take care of some paper work at his army reserve unit. We stopped there near the baby’s feeding time, and as we waited for Brent, our little one became increasingly fussy. I sat and rocked him, vainly trying to quiet his cries. Several officers peeked in to check on the commotion. “I know just how he feels,” one lieutenant consoled. “I cried my first day in the army, too.”

  — THERESA MELLOR

  I spent my 22nd birthday at the MP school in Fort Gordon, Ga., drilling in the extreme heat. Cleaning up for chow, I was ordered to report to the telegraph center “on the double!” Panting breathlessly after running two miles in the sweltering humidity, I opened the wire that had been sent to me: “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SON. LOVE, MOM AND DAD.”

  — ANTHONY ANDRIANO

  Oops!

  Two female privates are ordered to paint the general’s office. They are warned not to get paint on their uniforms. So they lock the door, strip off their clothes and get to work. An hour later, there’s a knock at the door. “Who is it?” they ask. “Blind man.” Thinking nothing of it, the privates open up. “Hi,” says the man. “Where do you want the blinds?”

  — SOURCE UNKNOWN

  While serving in the Persian Gulf, I was living in one of the tent cities that housed many of the troops. The tents were pitched so close together that the ropes crisscrossed. As I was heading back from chow, rifle slung over my shoulder, I decided to take a shortcut between the tents. Soldiers living there had hung their laundry on the outstretched ropes, but I deftly ducked under them. As I emerged from this tangle and continued down another pathway, a pair of soldiers pointed and laughed at me. Puzzled, I turned around to find a pair of men’s underwear swinging from the muzzle of my rifle.

  — KATHY EVANSON

  Loading my jeep with a generator, gas and other necessary items for flood victims in Warren, Minn., I drove to a National Guard checkpoint and flashed my fire department badge to get past. The Guardsman waved me through with a picture-perfect salute, and my chest swelled with pride at the show of respect. On my way back out, I stopped to talk to the soldier and thanked him for the salute. “That wasn’t a salute, sir,” he told me. “I was just showing you how deep the water was.”

  — PAT COLLINS

  While in the field one night on Army maneuvers, my husband, Francisco, came under fire by “opposing” forces. Fortunately, he was using night-vision goggles. Crawling low through the woods, Francisco followed another soldi
er who was really making time as he moved through the bushes. My husband drew closer to his unusually speedy comrade just in time to realize he was not a soldier at all. Francisco had been trying to keep pace with a porcupine.

  — REBECCA LLENAS

  On leave after a yearlong tour of duty in Korea, my friend’s first craving back home in the States was a meal at McDonald’s. Much to his surprise, the cashier took one look at his uniform and refused his money. “Thanks,” he said. “Sure,” she replied. “We never charge bus drivers.”

  — LEESA BRAUN

  My air national guard unit in Virginia Beach, Va., had a change-of-command ceremony, and a high-ranking general came to deliver a speech. He was given VIP treatment and even received some press coverage. The day after the big ceremony, the general took his wife to the movies at a local cinema. When he entered the small theater, he was given a standing ovation. Flattered by the response to his arrival, he acknowledged the applause with a wave of his hand and a big grin. Later, after the movie, one of the patrons approached him. “Gee,” remarked the fan, “we are so lucky you came.” “Oh, really?” the general replied, obviously pleased. “Yes, they weren’t going to start the movie unless they got 15 paying customers. We only had 13 until you two showed up.”

  — BRADLEY D. STEELE

  As new Naval reservists, my friends and I were proud to wear our uniforms to an armed-forces parade in New York City. After leaving the subway, we were walking the short distance to the assembly point when we noticed the green coat, gold buttons and double bars of an approaching officer. We quickly straightened up and presented him with sharp salutes. Our wonder over why the Army captain had not returned our salutes quickly turned to embarrassment when we realized he was a foreman for the New York City sanitation department.

  — EDWARD T. ZAREK

  On the heels of a massive storm, our supervisor visited headquarters to be briefed. When the major had concluded his rundown, the supervisor pointed to the map, where colored pins indicated affected towns, generators and so on. “What are the red pins at the top for?” he asked. “Those,” said the major, “hold up the map.”

  — MAJ. RYAN JESTIN

  During my Army Reserve unit’s annual training at Fort Ord, Calif., our battalion commander was upset that evening chow was late. He called the mess hall, and the mess sergeant explained that because their vehicle broke down, they couldn’t deliver the field rations to our bivouac site. The commander immediately yelled to his driver, “Private! Drive to the mess hall and get chow!” The private took off on the 15-minute trip. Over an hour later, we were dismayed to see him return empty-handed. “Private!” demanded the commander. “What about chow?” “It was delicious, sir,” replied the driver. “I got there right before the mess hall closed, so I got seconds.”

  — VINCE GILKEY

  It’s Inevitable!

  During Operation Desert Storm, I was a legislative affairs officer for Gen. Norman Schwarzkopf. Often I was required to transport gifts, sent to him from patriotic Americans, from Washington, D.C., to his home base in Florida. On one trip I “escorted” a four-foot teddy bear dressed in fatigues with a name tag reading “Bear,” General Schwarzkopf’s nickname. As I boarded the plane, I explained my mission to the flight attendant and asked if she could store the bear in first class. She was honored to do so, and I disappeared into the coach section. Then, just before takeoff, an announcement came over the intercom: “Colonel Preast, would you please come up to first class? We have an extra seat here for you to sit next to your teddy bear.”

  — DAVID R. PREAST

  During Army basic training, our first lieutenant took us on a march and asked each of us where our home was. After everyone had answered, he sneered and said, “You’re all wrong. The Army is now your home.” Back at the barracks, he read our evening duties, then asked our first sergeant if he had anything to say. “You bet I do,” the sergeant replied. “Men, while you were gone today, I found beds improperly made, clothes not hanging correctly, shoes not shined and footlockers a mess. Where do you think you are? Home?”

  — JACK HEAVEY

  Jimmy, our son, is an Army ROTC cadet at Northern Arizona University in Flagstaff. During a field exercise, he was assigned to “attack” a designated bunker, but also instructed not to strike if he was outnumbered by more than three soldiers. As Jimmy made his approach, he saw a crowd of people around his target, some in civilian clothes. Since he was vastly outnumbered, he set off a smoke grenade for cover and conducted a by-the-book retreat. Jimmy’s captain intercepted him. “Cadet, do you know what you’ve done?” Unbeknownst to my son, a group of reporters was covering the event. He had just retreated from the press.

  — CHUCK BEVAN

  * * *

  Two green recruits found three hand grenades on the road and decided to take them back to the base. “What if one of them explodes?” asked one young private. “No problem,” said his buddy. “We’ll say we only found two.”

  — SOURCE UNKNOWN

  * * *

  Our unit stood at attention one morning as the officer in charge presented a shipmate with a Good Conduct Award. The officer read from the certificate, “in recognition of faithful, zealous and obedient naval service.” As the certificate was handed over, we heard a voice from the ranks say, “They make it sound like you should wag your tail and bark.”

  — SUSAN AVILA

  “I feel sorry for this soldier,” joked my husband as he handed me a flier he’d found in our mailbox. It read: Lost Cat/Black and white/Answers to Nate/Belongs to a soldier/Recently neutered.

  — SONDRA GILBERTSON

  In the Army during Operation Desert Storm, I found myself in a world that had changed little since Biblical times. With so few creature comforts available, packages from home containing cookies and canned goods were received with great anticipation. When I got a box from my sister, I happily tore into it, only to discover just how far from home I really was. She had filled it with packages of microwave popcorn.

  — ROBERT T. SIMS

  I was in a Novocain fog following a visit to the dentist when I found myself lost on a deserted highway. Within minutes, I was surrounded by security officers who escorted me home. Later that day, my Air Force pilot husband came home, fuming. “You won’t believe what happened!” he said, shaking his head. “Some idiot was driving around the runway and we had to circle until the police could get the car off!”

  — PAMELA ISOM

  “I’d like to stop saluting, Sir, but my hair is stuck in my watchband.”

  Tiring of the same old buzz cut from the base barber at Fort Dix, New Jersey, I went into town to get my haircut. The hairdresser noticed my accent and asked where I was from. “Trinidad,” I said. “Is that in Arabia?” “The Caribbean.” She laughed, “I never was good at geometry.”

  — GERARD D’ORNELLAS

  The trip aboard the transport ship that brought my Air Force father and mother to Japan promised to be a long, tedious one. But the Navy, trying to liven things up for the couples, posted this sign by the galley for all to see when they dined: “Officers may mess with their wives between 1100-1200 and 1800-1900.”

  — LESLIE MATHES

  And So It Goes . . .

  When my sister was considering joining the Army, she was showered with attention from recruiters. Cars with drivers were made available to take her to meetings, and every door was opened and held for her. She enjoyed the special treatment and signed up. On the day she left for boot camp, an impeccably dressed sergeant arrived to pick her up. As she got ready to leave, she asked, “Aren’t you going to help me with these bags?” “Get them yourself,” the man replied. “You’re in the Army now!”

  — DOROTHY GLENDORA GIBBS

  Decal on the door of a military base: “Freedom’s Door Is Open to Everyone.” Below it, another decal: “Authorized Person
nel Only!”

  — HEATHER HARRIS

  Patrolling the streets of Baghdad is a tense job. But one thing that lightens the mood is sharing treats with the kids. One day, I leaned out of our Humvee and tossed some goodies to the children. I was enjoying the laughter and smiles when I noticed a man glowering at me after some candy landed at his feet. “What’s wrong with that guy?” I asked our gunner. “He was pouring cement,” he explained.

  — JENNIFER TWITCHELL

  Nights in England are coal black, making parachute jumps difficult and dangerous. So we attach small lights called chemlites to our jumpsuits to make ourselves visible to the rest of our team. Late one night, lost after a practice jump, we knocked on the door of a small cottage. When a woman answered, she was greeted by the sight of five men festooned in glowing chemlites. “Excuse me,” I said. “Can you tell me where we are?” In a thick English accent, the woman replied, “Earth.”

  — BILL BLACK