I'm guessing the Marine Corps doesn't do this anymore, but when we hit the racks at night in bootcamp the last words out of our mouths were "God Bless Chesty, wherever he is."
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- Thread starter Ooh-Rah
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I'm guessing the Marine Corps doesn't do this anymore, but when we hit the racks at night in bootcamp the last words out of our mouths were "God Bless Chesty, wherever he is."
My pops was a drill at Ft. Dix, where I was hatched. He told of stories of basic during the Nam Era and how wild shit was for the Army.
I bet shit for the Corps was fucking crazy back then?
Enjoy
Here's one for you:
The DI's weren't permitted to hit a problem recruit. But they got around that pesky regulation by lining everybody up in front of their racks, at attention. Then the Senior DI would walk up the squad bay and give everybody, one-by-one, a punch in the stomach. If you were a squared-away private, you got a powder-puff hit that hardly hurt at all. But when he got to the fuck-ups, BAM!
The logic was, according to the SDI, "If one of you maggots reported me for hitting you, I'd be in trouble. But if all or you reported me hitting you, nobody'd believe it."
Here's one for you:
The DI's weren't permitted to hit a problem recruit. But they got around that pesky regulation by lining everybody up in front of their racks, at attention. Then the Senior DI would walk up the squad bay and give everybody, one-by-one, a punch in the stomach. If you were a squared-away private, you got a powder-puff hit that hardly hurt at all. But when he got to the fuck-ups, BAM!
The logic was, according to the SDI, "If one of you maggots reported me for hitting you, I'd be in trouble. But if all or you reported me hitting you, nobody'd believe it."
Holy mackerel!!!
Here's another one:
One evening at the end of the first week of bootcamp--when the platoon numbered about fifty recruits--we were standing at attention at the foot of our racks, when the Senior DI came into the squad bay with a Gunnery Sergeant--also wearing a Smokey Bear Hat and carrying a clipboard.
"Prives," said the SDI, "This is Gunnery Sergeant Maddox. He is the inter-service transfer liaison NCO. He is here to see if any of you want to transfer to another branch of service. This is your last opportunity to do so. Gunny?"
"All right, recruits, listen up," the Gunny said. "I'm going to ask you some questions and I want a show of hands. How many of you would like to transfer to the Army?"
Two hands came up.
The Gunny took their names and wrote them down. "Okay, prives," he said, "now how many of you would like to transfer to the Navy?"
About five hands came up. The Gunny took their names and wrote them down.
"All right, who wants to transfer to the Air Force?"
A dozen hands came up.
The Gunny took their names and wrote them down.
Then he turned to our Senior Drill Instructor and handed him the clipboard: "Staff Sergeant Kaiser, here are the names of the motherfucking traitors who don't want to be in our beloved Corps." And with that, he turned and left.
One evening at the end of the first week of bootcamp--when the platoon numbered about fifty recruits--we were standing at attention at the foot of our racks, when the Senior DI came into the squad bay with a Gunnery Sergeant--also wearing a Smokey Bear Hat and carrying a clipboard.
"Prives," said the SDI, "This is Gunnery Sergeant Maddox. He is the inter-service transfer liaison NCO. He is here to see if any of you want to transfer to another branch of service. This is your last opportunity to do so. Gunny?"
"All right, recruits, listen up," the Gunny said. "I'm going to ask you some questions and I want a show of hands. How many of you would like to transfer to the Army?"
Two hands came up.
The Gunny took their names and wrote them down. "Okay, prives," he said, "now how many of you would like to transfer to the Navy?"
About five hands came up. The Gunny took their names and wrote them down.
"All right, who wants to transfer to the Air Force?"
A dozen hands came up.
The Gunny took their names and wrote them down.
Then he turned to our Senior Drill Instructor and handed him the clipboard: "Staff Sergeant Kaiser, here are the names of the motherfucking traitors who don't want to be in our beloved Corps." And with that, he turned and left.
