During the second world war, three military prisoners were about to be executed. A private, a sergeant and an officer.
Two guards brings the private forward, and the executioner asks if he has any last requests. He says no, and the executioner shouts, "Ready... Aim..." Suddenly the private private yells, "Earthquake!" Everyone is startled and looks around, allowing him time to run away as fast as he could.
The angry guards then bring the sergeant forward, and the executioner asks if he has any last requests. He says no, and the executioner shouts, "Ready... Aim..." The sergeant then screams, "Tornado!" Yet again, everyone is startled and looks around. allowing him time to escape in the confusion.
The guards, very angry now, bring the office forward, and the executioner asks if he has any last requests. He also says no, and the executioner shouts, "Ready... Aim..."
The officer shouts, "FIRE!"
A Harley biker is riding by the zoo in Taronga Park, Sydney when he sees a little girl leaning into the lion's cage. Suddenly, the lion grabs her by the cuff of her jacket and tries to pull her inside to slaughter her, under the eyes of her screaming parents. The biker jumps off his Harley, runs to the cage and hits the lion square on the nose with a powerful punch.
Whimpering from the pain the lion jumps back letting go of the girl, and the biker brings herto her terrified parents, whothank him endlessly.
A reporter has watched the whole event. The reporter addressing the Harley rider says, 'Sir, this was the most gallant and brave thing I've seen a man do in my whole life.' The Harley rider replies, 'Why, it was nothing, really, the lion was behind bars. I just saw this little kid in danger and acted as I felt right.' The reporter says, 'Well, I'll make sure this won't go unnoticed. I'm a journalist, and tomorrow's paper will have this story on the front page!'
'So, what do you do for a living and who do you support?'
The biker replies, 'I'm a soldier just returned from Afghanistan and I'm not really interested in politics, maybe more right wing.' The journalist writes it up and leaves.
The following morning the biker buys the paper to see news of his actions, and reads, on the front page:
RIGHT WING DESERTER RUNS AWAY FROM THE ARMY, ASSAULTS AFRICAN IMMIGRANT AND STEALS HIS LUNCH!
That pretty much sums up the media's approach to the news these days!
Captain Burntwood is an officer of the Union army.
One day, his unit gets overran by an overwhelming ambush by the Confederate army. He is captured and taken to a Confederate garrison where he is brought up to General Scamelot. To his surprise, he is greeted warmly and served a sumptuous lunch and aged bourbon by his captors.
"I'm sorry, Captain Burntwood, but we cannot let you go." General Scamelot says. "You are responsible for the death of so many of my men. But we do respect your abilities and what you do for the love of your country, so we will make sure you are comfortable and well-treated. But tomorrow, you face the firing squad but will be given due honors befitting an officer's death. Do you have any last wishes?"
Captain Burntwood puts down his glass of bourbon and says, "I do, let me speak with my horse."
Intrigued by this request, General Scamelot leads him out to the stables. Captain Burntwood takes the horse by the reins and whispers into its ears. The horse whickers and trots out towards the gate. Still intrigued, General Scamelot waves off the guard that tries to stop the horse and the horse walks out of the garrison.
Two hours later, the horse returns with a lovely lady on it. Captain Burntwood cries out and embraces his wife. Quickly understanding (and much nudge-nudge, wink-wink with his fellow Confederates), General Scamelot welcomes the captain's wife and proclaims that he too is married and completely understands, sorry about tomorrow, but they may make generous use of his very own quarters.
The couple spends the night at the general's quarters and, come dawn, Captain Burntwood is paraded onto the grounds where a squad of soldiers are loading their rifles. A priest prays with the captain and then he is brought to the general.
"Captain, have you any last words?" the general asks.
"I do, General Scamelot, but I would say it to my horse." Captain Burntwood says.
At the general's assenting nod, Captain Burntwood walks up to his horse, grabs it by the ears and screams, "Posse! I said bring me my posse!"
What do you call an ant who joins the army? Milit-ant.
The Famous Grandfather
A trio of old veterans were bragging and jokes about the heroic exploits of their ancestors one afternoon down at the VFW hall.
"My great grandfather, at age 13," one declared proudly, "was a drummer boy at Shiloh."
"Mine," boasts another, "went down with Custer at the Battle of Little Big Horn."
"I'm the only soldier in my family," confessed vet number three, "but if my great grandfather was living today he'd be the most famous man in the world." "Really?
What'd he do?" his friends wanted to know.
But he would be 165 years old."
Why do army snipers close one eye while shooting? Because if they closed both eyes they wouldn't be able to see.
An Excellent New Soldier
An Israeli soldier who just enlisted asked the Commanding Officer for a 3-day pass.
The CO says "Are you crazy? You just join the Israeli army, and you already want a 3-day pass?
You must do something spectacular for that recognition!"
So the soldier comes back a day later in an Arab tank!
The CO was so impressed, he asked "How did you do it?"
"Well, I jumped in a tank, and went toward the border with the Arabs.
I approached the border, and saw an Arab tank. I put my white flag up, the Arab tank put his white flag up.
I said to the Arab soldier, "Do you want to get a three-day pass? So we exchanged tanks!"
When you go with an army general onto a bowling alley, he will start bowling even before you enter his name on the scoreboard.
A Night in Area 51
You may have heard of the best kept secret of the US army - the infamous area 51 in Nevada, where secret operations are conducted.
It was late afternoon when Air Force spotted a Cessna airplane landing right at area 51. Perplexed, they immediately seized the pilot and dragged him into an interrogation room.
The pilot's story was that he took off from Vegas, got lost, and spotted the Base just as he was about to run out of fuel. The Air Force started a full FBI background check on the pilot and held him overnight during the investigation.
By the next day, they were finally convinced that the pilot really was lost and wasn't a spy. They gassed up his airplane, gave him a terrifying "you-did-not-see-a-base" briefing, complete with threats of spending the rest of his life in prison, told him Vegas was that-a-way on such-and-such a heading, and sent him on his way.
The day after that though, to the total disbelief of the Air Force, the same Cessna showed up again. Once again, the MP's surrounded the plane... only this time there were two people in the plane. The pilot and a sour, angry looking woman.
The same pilot jumped out and said, "I know I shouldn't be here again, and you can do anything you want to me, but please, please, will you tell my wife that I actually DID spend last night in area 51!"
A C-130 was lumbering along when a cocky F-16 flashed by.
The jet jockey decided to show off and told the C-130 pilot:
'watch this!' and promptly went into a barrel roll followed by a steep climb.
He then finished with a sonic boom as he broke the sound barrier.
The F-16 pilot asked the C-130 pilot what he thought of that?
The C-130 pilot said, 'That was impressive, but watch this!'
The C-130 droned along for about 5 minutes and then the C-130 pilot came back on and said: 'What did you think of that?'
Puzzled, the F-16 pilot asked, 'What the heck did you do?'
The C-130 pilot chuckled.
'I stood up, stretched my legs, walked to the back, took a leak, then got a cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll."
And the lesson?
When you are young & foolish - speed & flash may seem a good thing.
When you get older & smarter - comfort & boredom is not such a bad thing.
Us older folks understand this one, it's called
S.O.S - Slower, Older and Smarter!
The reason the Air Force, Army, Navy and Marines bicker among themselves is that they don’t speak the same language.
For instance, Take the simple phrase “secure the building”.
The Army will post guards around the place.
The Navy will turn out the lights and lock the doors.
The Marines will kill everybody inside and set up a headquarters.
The Air Force will take out a 5 year lease with an option to buy.
Did you hear about the zygote that joined the army? I heard he was diploid.
The Outback Army Recruit
An Army Recruit from the Australian outback sends a letter home:
'Dear Mum & Dad,
I am well. Hope you are too. Tell me big brothers Doug and Phil that the Army is better than workin’ on the farm - tell them to get in 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 ya gotta do before brekky is make ya bed and shine ya boots and clean ya uniform. No cows to milk, no calves to feed, no feed to stack - nothin’!! Ya haz gotta shower though, but its 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 dead because we’ve been on a ’route march’ - geez its 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 possum’s bum 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 show last year! All ya gotta do is make yourself comfortable and hit the target! 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 ya gotta 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 15 stone and three pick handles across 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 good it is.
Your loving daughter,