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My husband, a U.S. Coast Guard pilot, was on an exchange tour with the Royal Navy in England. Everyone who drove through the base's gates was required to hold an official ID card up to the windshield for inspection by the guards. As a friendly competition, my husband's squadron started flashing different forms of ID, such as a driver's license, just to see how far they could go to fool the busy guards. The winner? The fellow who breezed past waving a piece of toast.

Our daughter, a military police officer, pulled over a driver for rolling through a stop sign on the base. The driver argued that she'd slowed down, and that slowing down was the same as stopping. My daughter disagreed. "If I started hitting you over the head with this flashlight," she said, putting it in perspective, "would you want me to slow down or stop?"

While stationed at Fort Rucker, Ala., where helicopter pilots are trained, I learned to identify the different copters by their sound alone. Early one morning, I was awakened when one buzzed my barracks. I ran through the possibilities, but couldn't identify it. Intrigued by what kind of helicopter it could be, I sprinted to the window just in time to see the single engine, twin-bladed main rotor lawn mower come into view.

I was golfing with a soldier who had just returned from Afghanistan. His plans included becoming a greens keeper once he was discharged in a few months. He applied to a local college for its golf course superintendent program, but the department chair worried that he might not be up for the job. "It's stressful," he said. "You have to fight the weather, insects and demanding club members."
"Will anyone be shooting at me while I mow the grass?" asked the soldier.
"Of course not."
"I'll take the job."

"Today, gentlemen, I have some good news and some bad news," said our platoon sergeant during our morning lineup. "First, the good news. Private Tomkins will be setting the pace on our run." The platoon began to hoot and holler, since the overweight Tomkins was the slowest guy in the group.
"Now the bad news. Private Tomkins will be driving a truck."

Officer candidate school at Fort Sill, Oklahoma, was tough. During an inspection, a fellow soldier received 30 demerits for a single penny found within his area. Ten demerits were for "valuables insecure," ten because the penny wasn't shined, and ten because Abraham Lincoln needed a shave.

The crew of a fast frigate was practicing the man overboard drill by "rescuing" a bright orange fluorescent dummy dubbed Oscar. The captain watched as a young lieutenant nervously stopped the ship, turned it and maneuvered into place. Unfortunately, he ran right over Oscar. Surveying the remains of Oscar scattered around the ship, the captain told the lieutenant, "Son, do me a favor. If I ever fall overboard, just drop anchor and I'll swim to you."

During basic training, our drill sergeant asked all Jewish personnel to make themselves known. Six of us tentatively raised our hands. Much to our relief, we were given the day off for Rosh Hashanah. A few days later, in anticipation of Yom Kippur, the sergeant again asked for all Jewish personnel to identify themselves. This time, every soldier raised his hand. "Only those who were Jewish last week can be Jewish this week," declared the sergeant.

My friend Herb was returning home after several months aboard a Navy submarine. His wife and a crowd of people anxiously awaited the arrival of the vessel at a San Diego dock. She was so excited that she parked their car near the edge of the dock in a no-parking zone. The sub finally appeared. But it came in too fast and slammed into the end of the wharf. Fortunately, no one was injured. Unfortunately, Herb and his wife had to explain to their insurance company that their car had been damaged by a runaway submarine.

I was proud and excited on my first day of Air Force pilot training as I walked toward the instruction facility. From a distance I could see large letters looming over the entrance: "Through these doors pass the best pilots in the world." My pride was quickly deflated, however, as I reached the threshold and read the small, scribbled cardboard sign that had been taped to the glass by a maintenance worker. It said "Please use other door."

The guard in Air Force basic training must check the ID of everyone who comes to the door. A trainee was standing guard when he heard a pounding on the door and the order "Let me in!" Through the window he saw the uniform of a lieutenant colonel and immediately opened up. He quickly realized his mistake.
"Airman! Why didn't you check for my authority to enter?"
Thinking fast, the airman replied, "Sir, you'd have gotten in anyway."
"What do you mean?"
"Uh...the hinges on the door...they're broken, sir."
"What? Show me!"
With a twinkle in his eye, the airman opened the door, let the officer step out and slammed the door shut.
"Airman! Open up immediately!"
"Sir, may I see your authority to enter?"
The airman was rewarded for outsmarting his commanding officer.

Although fighting the enemy is considered normal, the Army frowns upon fighting among the troops. So much so that after one too many battles royal, my uncle was ordered to undergo a psychiatric evaluation in which he had to endure some odd questions. "If you saw a submarine in the Sahara, what would you do?"
"Well, I'd throw snowballs at it," he answered.
"Where'd you get the snowballs?" the doctor asked.
"Same place you got the submarine."