19.) Missing Parts
“‘Does it look like I have a s—sweep hangin’ between my legs?!’
In response to a basic trainee referring to her as a ‘sir.’”
20.) That Back Stabber
“My RDC (navy boot camp instructor) ripped ass all the time. It got to the point where she would always do it at the most quiet time just to beat us later for laughing. My favorite moment was when we were lining up for chow and she walks by and toots so hard the entire line heard it (80+ people) and as she hears people giggling, she whips around and screams, ‘WHO THE F— SAID THAT?!’ All the grins were wiped immediately only to hear her follow up, ‘some assh—’s talking s— behind my back…’”
21.) Pine Cones FTW!
“So, I was at basic in Fort Benning, and we were zeroing our weapons as a company. Zeroing a weapon is when you ensure it shoots where you want it to by shooting a paper target repeatedly. Sounds easy enough. Now, I am a terrible shot. I know this. Everyone knows this. However, I get even worse when I’m being screamed at. I spent hours on the line until, finally, there were only four of us cats who hadn’t gotten a ‘go’ in the whole company. We had three more hours of range time, and if we failed to zero, we’d be ‘recycled.’
‘Recycled’ entails having to revert to another company earlier along in basic training. So, not only do you lose your buddies, but you catch a couple extra weeks of training with a unit that knows you’re a s—bird of some sort. So, a fate worse than death.
After another unsuccessful grouping, my drill sergeant, without a word, picked me up from the prone position and stood me up. He looked at me and said ‘Go find me a pine cone.’ Confused, I took four steps, scooped up a pine cone and took it back to him. I presented him my findings, and he responded ‘Private, that’s not my pine cone, go find me my f—— pine cone!’
Keep in mind, this is a forest in Georgia, there’s a metric s— ton of pine cones. So I jog off and work on my ‘mission.’ This entire time, my DS is shooting all my rounds off, genuinely enjoying himself. Every pine cone I bring to him is not his pine cone. This continued for about 15 minutes while the rest of the company, sitting in a clearing eating MREs, cheered me on.
Finally, I breathlessly run up and hand him another pine cone, about to jog off to grab another. He looks at me, then the pine cone, then me… ‘STEVE!’, he yells, ‘You found Steve, private!’
I s— you not, I had never been more relieved in my entire life, until his face scrunched into a grimace.
‘Wait, private, where’s his family? … WHO THE F— TAKES A PINE CONE AWAY FROM HIS FAMILY!?’
So, terrified, I spend around half an hour scavenging for appropriate sized pine cones, while he fires maniacally. Eventually, I hunt down his ‘wife’ and his two ‘kids.’ (At one point I brought ‘Steve’s estranged son, Dennis,’ and I needed to do push-ups for causing Steve ‘emotional duress.’)
Anyway, he lets me fire (after I prop up the family to ‘cheer me on’), I go prone and I zero on the first iteration. He picks me up again, cracks the only smile I ever saw from him, and says, ‘It was all in your head, you dumb f—. Good job. Now go do push-ups till I’m tired.’ He also had me write my congressman later that day to apologize for wasting taxpayer money on bullets.
A pine cone saved my military career.”
22.) Nope, Not the Word
“I just want to stand here and stare at my privates!”
This article originally appeared on BrainJet.com
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