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Funny Military stories: Share em!! NO BASHING!

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posted on Jan, 2 2011 @ 03:40 PM

Originally posted by Whateva69
I had to pick up my husband from work, and as I approached the guard room at the gates, several soldiers (mp's) walked towards my car, they spread out and I could see in my rear vision mirror that they were going over and underneath my car, giving it a good thorough searching they were,

The fourth guard bent over to talk to me through my open window, I'm kind of a sarcastic person and I wish sometimes I wasn’t lol

As he leant in I slowly waved my hand in front of me looked him in the eyes and said “these are not the droids you are looking for”.

He must have been a trekkie as he had no clue what I meant lol

Any way that smart ass comment made him uneasy and he wouldn’t let me pass until he and the other soldiers went over the inside and outside of my car two more times.

I was late picking up my husband and my only excusse to him was that the mp's dont watch star wars.
my husband looked at me confused gave his head a slight shake.
I think he thinks i was having a blonde moment and didnt want to ask anymore


Reminds me of the fiasco that was my sons birth.

My heavily pregnant wife and I had just been posted to Celle in Germany.

My son decided that he wanted to see whats outside his mum. Being new there we didnt know what to do so i took my wife to the guard room which was half a mile up the road, no car, with my wife in labour, in the snow and my wife screaming a bloody vengence.

We got to the guardroom, and the highly trained killers on guard, who are trained for every theatre of war and combat tested many times, went into panic mode big time!

Kettles were boiled, towels were fetched, the guard commander was at 3000 ft, flapping, and my wife and i couldnt help but try to stifle giggles.

Luckily for us (and the guard commander) an ambulance turned up and whisked us to the krankenhous (hospital) where a big German lady with pidgeon English made my wife fill in forms whilst she was in the grip of contractions. She told my wife to "fantastically push" and encouraged her with "fantastically, fantastically" and my belfast born wife (now ex) wanted to fantastically headbutt her (and me i think).

Then out popped Dean, and a 20 hour drive there and back to Dusseldorf to get my son registered and on a passport at the British consulate.

On return, the troops dragged me out to "wet the babies head" and got me so drunk that my wife got her bloody revenge by hitting me over the head with the cloggs i bought her in holland..

Memories huh?
edit on 2-1-2011 by Yissachar1 because: (no reason given)

edit on 2-1-2011 by Yissachar1 because: (no reason given)

edit on 2-1-2011 by Yissachar1 because: (no reason given)

posted on Jan, 4 2011 @ 12:16 PM
Just wanted to say great thread,some hilarious stories hear,i hope we get some more!

posted on Jan, 4 2011 @ 03:02 PM

Letter Home From New Australian Army Recruit

Dear Mum & Dad

I am well. Hope youse are too. Tell me big brothers Doug and Phil that the Army is better than workin' on the farm - tell them to get in bloody quick smart before the jobs are all gone!  I wuz a bit slow in settling down at first, because ya don't hafta get outta bed until 6am.  But I like sleeping in now, cuz all yagotta do before brekky is make ya bed and shine ya boots and clean ya uniform.  No bloody cows to milk, no calves to feed, no feed to stack - nothin'!!  Ya haz gotta shower though, but it's not so bad, coz there's lotsa hot water and even a light to see what ya doing! At brekky ya get cereal, fruit and eggs but there's no kangaroo steaks or possum stew like wot Mum makes.  You don't get fed again until noon and by that time all the city boys are buggered because we've been on a 'route march' - geez it's only just like walking to the windmill in the back paddock! This one will kill me brothers Doug and Phil with laughter.  I keep getting medals for shootin' - dunno why.  The bullseye is as big as a bloody possum's arse and it don't move and it's not firing back at ya like the Johnsons did when our big scrubber bull got into their prize cows before the Ekka last year!  All ya gotta do is make yourself comfortable and hit the target - it's a piece of piss!!  You don't even load your own cartridges they comes in little boxes and ya don't have to steady yourself against the rollbar of the roo shooting truck when you reload! Sometimes yagotta wrestle with the city boys and I gotta be real careful coz they break easy - it's not like fighting with Doug and Phil and Jack and Boori and Steve and Muzza all at once like we do at home after the muster.
Turns out I'm not a bad boxer either and it looks like I'm the best the platoon's got, and I've only been beaten by this one bloke from the Engineers - he's 6 foot 5 and 18 stone and like three pick lengths at the shoulders and as ya know I'm only 5 foot 7 and eight stone wringin' wet, but I fought him till the other blokes carried me off to the boozer. I can't complain about the Army - tell the boys to get in quick before word gets around how bloody good it is

Your loving daughter

Sheila xxx

posted on Jan, 4 2011 @ 04:05 PM
link a story my former SO (now deceased) told...

...a few hours after he arrived in vietnam, rick showed up for the COs "welcome to hell" speech and an officer directed him to sit up front... as others were coming in, he noticed that no one else was being told where to sit and it made him a little uncomfortable..., the CO gives his speech, never breaking eye contact with rick even though there were quite a few other newbees among the gathered... it was unnerving... the end of the speech, the CO comes over to rick, leans down into his face and asks "what would you call a man that screws another man's wife?" - but - he used another word besides screws...

...before rick could blink, the CO said, "i'd call him a low down slitherin poop butt" - but - he used other words besides poop butt... was then that rick recognized the CO as the man who snuck up on him and nearly beat him to death one night about a year earlier because he caught him screwing the wrong woman..., the CO says "from now on, boy, your name is slitherin poop butt" - but - he used other words besides poop butt... rick was sure he'd be murdered and left to rot in the jungle... it turned out, they became very close friends and, after nam, the CO divorced his whore of a wife and went into business with rick... they were quite a team...

posted on Jan, 4 2011 @ 04:29 PM
The only one iv got is me and some buds got promoted and we figgured we would go out to celibrate well we drank at this little bar a couple miles from ft benning where we were stationed well the later it got the drunker we got so we figgured we would call it a night well when we came in to the bars drive we came from the south well when we left out we headed north well we drove and drove and finaly we deceided to syop and ask for directions when jimmy came back out of the station he looked sober as a church mouse we asked him whats the deal all he said was COLUMBIA SC i was like OH HELL at 3am in the morn so we drew straws to see who was going to call and let then know well it was me I still drunk well someone pick up the phone just as i was pucking my brains out i told them and the crap hit the fan and i got the worst but chewing iv ever herd of or seen so we drove back to base we arived around noonish and awaited for the crap after being threatend with CM they busted us back down to corp.I think we still hold the record for the shortest promo.

posted on Jan, 4 2011 @ 11:09 PM
Great Stories, keep em coming!!!

posted on Apr, 25 2011 @ 02:39 AM
gonna revive this...anyone got any good memories they wanna share??

posted on Apr, 8 2013 @ 03:41 AM
Gonna bump this again, I want more stories


posted on Apr, 8 2013 @ 06:59 AM
Funniest one that happened to me personally.....18 years old in Germany, i was invited to a fancy dress party at a friends nightclub just near our base. We had to dress as anything starting with the letter we were given. I was given "L" so went as a lumberjack (very original i know).

Borrowed a chainsaw off my mate, got a large log to prop on my shoulder, fake beard and chest hair drawn on with a black marker to make myself look manly, chequed shirt, jeans and boots and off i went. Had a few drinks too many in camp first, and we were going to go into town later, so i decided to take my mates chainsaw back to him.

Off i walk, rather wobbly i might add, down the long street towards the nightclub. Further ahead i saw a girl i knew from the local bar, so i shouted to her. She turned and kept walking. I shouted again and sped up, she started walking faster though. In the end, i started jogging after her, along with the chainsaw, the log, the fake beard and chest wig......she is now on her mobile phone running even faster.

Within two minutes a German cop car pulled me over, hands on holsters ready to draw their handguns. Turned out it wasn't my friend at all, but a total stranger out for a walk.
I had to explain things down at the police station, and luckily the police and the lady were quite forgiving. Bought the lady a box of choccys and flowers to apologize and all ended well.

Another one, basic training, 16 years old, me and two others got done for fighting, had to report to the jail and be inspected by the Regimental Police several times a day, just to mess us about.. Different uniforms for different inspections, and on one occasion we had to wear full combat gear. The instructions were to have two magazines in our ammo pouches.

One of the lads, thick as anything, turned up with a porn mag in one, and a Farmers Weekly in the other.
Earned himself a night in the jail for that.

Coming out of the NAAFI after taking a statement regarding a break in, and finding bacon strips covering the whole of the police car. Never did find out who did it, but it must have cost them a fortune in bacon and taken ages.

Training centre again, had just come in from guard duty on the front gate and went to sign my smg back in. I had it slung over my shoulder whist i was writing in the book. It slipped off and hit the floor......well it would have done if it hadn't first landed on one of my instructors new puppy's that she had brought in to show everyone. A miniature Yorkshire Terrier puppy verses a Sterling smg, not a great match.

Luckily the dog survived the crush, but it was sparko for a few seconds. Poor little thing lol, just comes into the world and a clutz drops a gun it.

Have plenty more but i'm afraid they may break the T&C's.


posted on Apr, 8 2013 @ 07:53 AM
reply to post by CX

Those were classic lol
Why did you have to report to the police?


posted on Apr, 8 2013 @ 09:25 AM

Originally posted by HomerinNC
reply to post by CX

Those were classic lol
Why did you have to report to the police?

You mean the regimental police that i mentioned?

As well as the official MP's which i was in (Royal Military Police), most units had their own Regimental Police that managed the camps jail and did security duties within the units own base. Whilst in training, the regimental police were responsible for messing us about and looking after the inmates when you got stuck in the unit cells for a couple of days. It was these RP's that we had to report to as part of our punishment. Scary when you were just 16, not so once you grew up lol.

Not to be confused with the Military Provost Staff Corps who ran the Military Corrective Training Centre at Colchester (the real military prison).


posted on Apr, 8 2013 @ 12:45 PM
reply to post by CX

Oh ok I get it now, still great stories

posted on May, 3 2013 @ 04:49 AM
Got one my old man told me, from his time in Vietnam. Luckily for him he was in Battalion HQ, so he didn't have to go out on patrol as much as the rest of the guys, but would still get rotated out for the odd patrol a couple of times each month.

One time, was out on Ambush Patrol, as Section Commander (Squad Leader in US parlance). Was a single section, overnight Ambush Patrol. Anyways, they went out after dark, set up their ambush just outside one of the local villages, and sat waiting. About 3 hours into the patrol, his forward scout comes back saying he has heard an incoming patrol, guessing 10-15 people in size, and what orders my old man wanted to give the rest of the lads. Old man tells him to let the other guys know that they will use standard tactic of drawing em in as close as possible, and would spring the ambush then. They would know when to fire when the machine gunner opened up. They wait another few minutes, MG opens up, and they unleash hell. No survivors, old man tells his Section to wait til light to go in and get a confirmed count etc. Next morning, they go in to do the count, and find that they had shot up the local village mayors racing dogs. Anyways, dad tells the lads to count em all up, and they would put down however many confirmed kills, then go back to base.

Now, they get back to base, go to the Ops Room, dad gives his report to the Duty Officer, then the lads go do their usual thing. About 2 hours later, old man gets a call from the Duty Officer to go see the CO. Old man has no idea why, but reports as ordered. Conversation goes like this:-

CO - "Corporal, how many confirmed dead did you have in that ambush last night?"

Dad - "9 Sir. Why?"

CO - "9 Confirmed killed. Is that your final answer?"

Dad - "Yes Sir. Again, why???"

CO - "Were they human?"

Dad - "Sir??? *puzzled look*"

CO - "Listen Corporal, I know they were dogs........."

Dad - "Uuuummmmm, ok"

CO - "Listen Corporal, I know they were dogs because the Mayor just came in and ripped # outta me saying I had his racing dogs killed. The prick used to rig the races so his dogs would win, and he could make more money on top of his usual paycheck. Personally, I don't give a #. I'm actually happy son, cause I lost a decent amount of money betting against that bastards dogs. I'm just stoked the prick got a dose of his own medicine. I may not get my money back, but knowing he can't win anymore for a while makes me happy
Oh and by the way Corporal, if anyone asks, the bodycount was 9, we had nothing to do with his dogs winding up dead!

Old man walks out laughing his arse off, even though his heart was in his throat in the beginning thinking he was gonna get court-martialled for filing a false report.

posted on May, 30 2013 @ 08:39 AM
There's some good stories here!

I've got a couple!

In Phuket, Thailand (2011) I was in a bar with a buddy of mine. I was talking to the bartender when my buddy, who was very far from sober, comes up to me to let me know that he's "going upstairs with this girl". Well, let me tell you, this was no girl. Now Thailand is full of ladyboys (transvestites), and a lot of them are pretty convincing, but this one was not. She was obviously a guy with a boob job. So I said "Dude, that's a guy." "No way, man, look at her!" Well, I'll tell you, this 'woman' had the biggest adam's apple I've ever seen, and her hands were bigger than mine, plus, she was like 5'11, which is a giant for a Thai woman. Finally I convinced him she was a man, but it took a while.

This second one happened at the Coalition Naval Base in Bahrain. I had met up with some British sailors, who's ship was moored in front of mine, at the base bar. After a lot of drinks and laughs, we all decided it was time to head back to our respective ships. So, here we are, there was probably 20 of us, all Americans and Brits, walking down the pier. One of the Brits next to me says "Oh bloody hell, I've went and pissed meself!" To which all his buddies just laughed and said "Not again?" The funniest thing was watching him walk up the brow to his ship, pants obviously soaked. I hear the Officer of the Deck say something along the lines of "Don't even bother with signing in, Thompson! Just go downstairs and change your damn pants!"

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