Archive for the ‘Military’ Category

   This letter is written from a farm kid going through boot camp at Parris Island Marine Corps Recruit Depot

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Dear Ma and Pa: 

   I am well. Hope y’all are too. Tell Brother Walt and Brother Elmer the Marine Corps is easy and beats working for old man Minch by a country mile. They really ought to join up quick before all the places are filled.

   I was restless at first because they make you stay in bed till nearly 5:00 a.m., but I am getting so I like to sleepin in late. Tell Walt and Elmer all you has to do before breakfast is smooth your cot and shine your boots and buckles. No hogs to slop, feed to pitch, mash to mix, wood to split, hay to lay… practically nothing. Men gots to shave but it is not so bad, they’ve even got warm water.

   Breakfast is strong on trimmings like fruit juice, cereal, eggs, bacon, etc., but kind of weak on the pork chops, fried potatoes, salt cured ham, steak, sausage, gravy and biscuits and other regular breakfast foods, but tell Walt and Elmer you can always sit by some city boys that live on coffee and doughnuts. Their food plus yours holds you till noon when you get fed again. It’s no wonder these city boys can’t walk far.

   Speakin of walkin; we go on “route marches” which the Platoon Sergeant says are long walks to toughen us up. If he thinks so, it’s not my place to tell him different. A “route march” is about as far as to our mailbox at home. The countryside is nice but awfully flat. We don’t climb hills or nothin. Them city guys get sore feet and we all get to ride back in trucks. The Sergeant is like a school teacher. He nags us a lot. The Captain is like the school board. Majors and Colonels just ride around and frown. They don’t bother you none.

   This next part will kill Walt and Elmer with laughing. I keep getting medals for shooting! I don’t know why. The bulls-eye is purt-ear as big as a chipmunk’s head and it don’t move, and it ain’t shooting back at you like the Higgett boys do at home. All you got to do is lie there all comfortable and hit it. You don’t even load your own cartridges. They come in boxes.

   Then we have what they call hand-to-hand combat training. You get to wrestle with them city boys. I have to be real careful though, they break real easy. It ain’t like fighting with that ole bull at home. I’m about the best they got in this except for that guy Jordan from over in Silver Lake. I only beat him once. He joined up the same time as me, but I’m only 5’6″ and 130 pounds, and he’s 6’8″ and weighs near 300 pounds dry.

   Be sure to tell Walt and Elmer to hurry and join before other fellers get onto this setup and come stampeding in.

Your loving daughter,

Gail

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Letter from a hillbilly mom

Letter from a college friend

Package of biscuits

‘Whump’ biscuits come in two sizes:
a five-count can, and a ten-count can.


This is a true story. It happened back around 1992. My wife and I had been married for six years and it was still just the two of us; we didn’t have any children yet.

Now my wife is a great cook. She’s so good, she can make sawdust taste good. But there’s one thing she cannot make — biscuits.

Her mother can make biscuits. Her mother makes biscuits that raise a full three inches high and weigh just ounces. Unfortunately, my wife’s biscuits don’t rise so much. In fact, they’re so thin, you can’t cut them in half. You have to use two to make a ham and biscuit sandwich. And they weigh nearly a pound a piece. So my wife sticks to ‘whump’ biscuits.

Whenever my wife would make whump biscuits, she’d pop a roll of ten and cook them up. But we rarely ate more than two or three each. So one day, I noticed in the grocery store that whump biscuits come in five-packs as well! Well, there’s a budget blessing if ever I saw one. I told her that if she bought the five-packs, we would not have to throw out the extra five that came in a ten-count can, and we could save money. I am so smart!! I bought a couple of cans.

That very night, she made biscuits.

I heard her ‘whump’ open a can of biscuits. Then I heard something disturbing: I thought I heard her whump open another can. “What is she doing?’ I asked myself. But I refrained from entering the ‘Forbidden Zone.’ (The kitchen is off-limits when she cooks). When she finally called me to set the table, I peeked in the oven. My greatest fear was realized – There were TEN biscuits in the oven. My mouth started running, not waiting for my brain to engage. “Why did you open two cans of biscuits?” I asked. “Are you stupid? We’ll only eat five and throw the rest away!” I yelled.

“I’ll show you throwing biscuits away!” she countered. Then she took the pan with ten biscuits and tossed it all out in the back yard.

“What are you doing?” I screamed, and I went to pick up the pan from out in the yard. To the side, I saw the neighbors were setting on their back porch watching things transpire. I grabbed the pan and headed back to the house. I took about two steps before I realized the pan was still close to 450 degrees hot. I dropped the pan, and kissed my swelling fingers. Then to show the pan who was boss, I jumped up and down on it and stomped it till there was no life left in it. I glanced over at the neighbor’s porch. At some point, I don’t know when, they had slipped back into their house and shut the blinds. I left the hot pan and half-cooked biscuits sizzling in the grass and headed back to the house empty-handed.

One of us went to bed hungry that night. I’ll let you guess who.

The End of the Roast.

General 'Stonewall' Jackson is most known for his leadership at the First Battle of Bull Run where his unfaltering stand earned him the nickname 'Stonewall'.

   This is a story about a little-known Confederate Colonel who dominated the battlefield during the American Civil War every bit as well as his military protegé, Thomas Jonathan “Stonewall” Jackson.

   Just to refresh your memory, “Stonewall” Jackson rose to prominence and earned his famous nickname at the First Battle of Bull Run back in 1861. As the Confederate lines began to crumble under heavy Union assault, Jackson’s brigade provided crucial reinforcements, and General Jackson stood in the midst of the battlefield, refusing to retreat. Brig. Gen. Barnard Elliott Bee, Jr., exhorted his own troops to re-form by shouting, “There is Jackson standing like a stone wall. Let us determine to die here, and we will conquer.”

   This Confederate Colonel’s Aide-De-Camp came to him early one morning before sunrise. “Colonel, the scouting report says we’re outnumbered by the Yanks, two-to-one. Should we fall back to Virginia?”

“Heaven forbid!” Replied the Colonel, “Just bring me my red shirt, and we’ll send those Yankees back from whence they came.”

   As the battle wore on, the Colonel stood proudly in the midst of his troops, barking orders and shouting encouragement. Bullets flew all around him, but he stood unfazed. The Union forces finally gave up and retired back into the woods for the evening.

   The next morning, the Colonel’s Aide-De-Camp came again, and gave a report. “Sir, the Union forces reinforced their line last night. If we go into battle, we shall be outnumbered, three-to-one! Should we fall back?”

“Never!” the Colonel replied. “Bring my red shirt, and we shall be victorious!”

   The second day’s battle raged wilder than the first, with wave after wave of blue-suited soldiers attempting to drive back the Rebel defenders. The Colonel stood where all his troops could see him, prominent in his red shirt, unmoved from his position, despite the bullets that whizzed by his head. By sundown, the Union troops had made no gains and retreated once again into the woods.

   The third morning, the Aide-De-Camp came and asked the Colonel, “Incredible victories, sir. May I ask the significance of the red shirt?” “Certainly,” he replied. “If I am to stand and be an example for my troops, I want them to be able to spot me quickly amidst the chaos. The red shirt will draw their attention, their wonderment, and their dedication. Besides that, if I am shot, my men will not see the blood, and they will continue the fight.”

“Well, it seems to be helping, sir.” said the Aide. “And we will need all the help we can get for today’s battle. It appears we’re outnumbered five-to-one, according to our scouts. Shall I bring your red shirt?”

The Colonel replied, “Forget the red shirt, Today I’ll be wearing my brown pants.”

 
There’s Something odd about these soldiers.

 
The following photographs are the winning entries for the 2011 Military Service’s Top 3 Aviation Photographs.

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WalMart hires an Air Force retiree


Air Force takes delivery of ts first Aircraft Carrier

Something Odd Here

Posted: June 2, 2012 in Military, Toys
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There’s something odd about these fellows gathered to re-enact the Civil War

Do you see it?

These ‘people’ are not people at all. They are 1/6th scale action figures; 12-inch-tall G.I.Joes! You can see more of these amazing guys at

Rosewood987’s site.

 
The Homepage of the 79th New York Infantry, Co. A, East Tennessee

Rules About SELF:
  • You are NOT Superman.
  • Ambition, attitude, and brains – two are required to be successful.
  • Anything you do leaves you vulnerable – including doing nothing.
  • Try to look unimportant, the enemy may be low on ammunition.
  • Don’t look conspicuous, it draws enemy fire.
  • Don’t draw enemy fire, it makes you quite unpopular with your unit.
  • Bravery is being the only one who knows you’re afraid.
  • Never share your foxhole with someone braver than you.
Rules about WEAPONRY:
  • Remember your weapon was made by the lowest bidder.
  • Aim towards the Enemy.
  • If in doubt, empty your magazine.
  • You have three seconds when lighting a five-second fuse.
  • When the pin is pulled, the grenade is not your friend.
Rules about LOGISTICS:
  • Things that must be together to work, can’t be shipped together.
  • Batteries fail when there’s no other power source available.
  • Radios fail when you desperately need fires support.
  • Flashlights are tubular metal containers for storing dead batteries.
  • The only time you can have too much fuel is when you’re on fire.
  • If something hasn’t broken on your weapon, it’s about to.
  • If you are short on everything except enemy, you are in combat.
Rules about TACTICS:
  • No plan survives initial contact intact.
  • If it sounds stupid – but it works, it’s not stupid.
  • If your attack is going well, you are walking into an ambush.
  • It is generally inadvisable to eject into the area you just bombed.
  • Any ship can be a minesweeper… once.
  • If you see a bomb technician running, follow him.
  • If one engine fails on a twin-engine airplane, you still have enough power to make it to the scene of the crash.
  • Flying the airplane is more important than radioing your situation to a person on the ground incapable of doing anything about it.
Rules about FIRES:
  • The only thing more lethal than incoming fire, is incoming friendly fire.
  • Incoming fire has the right-of-way.
  • Tracer fire works both ways.
  • Friendly fire isn’t.
  • If the enemy is in range, so are you.
Rules about STRATEGY:
  • Professional soldiers are predictable – but the world is full of amateurs.
  • If you are forward of your intended position, artillery will fall short.
  • The diversion you are ignoring is really the main attack.
  • The important things are always simple – the simple things are hard
  • The easy path is mined.
  • When both sides are convinced they are about to lose, they’re both right.
  • If you take more than your fair share of objectives, you will have more than your fair share of objectives to take.

 
 

Most importantly:

Once you win the battle, don’t forget to tell the enemy

Service hardship

Posted: May 31, 2012 in Military
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