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"It seemed Like a Good Thing to do at the Time" - Your Humorous Stories

Walt

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In these stressful times, we can probably use a good dose of humour! Please share your experiences regarding circumstances  when you felt that "It seemed like a good thing to do at the time", but the results were not as expected. Given the number of military folks on this forum, I expect a few "funnies"! Cheers,

Walt
 
Besides what it says about a rather casual approach to the CSD back then, this would have made headlines from sea to sea to sea. It was the night of Leliefontein Day (7 November) in 1961 or 1962. Anyway the officers of the Royal Canadian Dragoons had left the dining room of their officers' mess after commemorating the battle. One of the brighter sparks in the regiment had the bright idea that they should celebrate by "saving" the 25-pounder on display outside the 1 RCHA officers' mess.

Note: if you haven't figured this out, alcohol will play a large part in the subsequent events. Well, the well-lubricated dragoons managed to get the regimental duty vehicle, a 3/4 ton truck and descended on the gun outside the Brownfiled Mess. Displaying the usual dexterity one ascribes to officers, they backed the truck up to the end of the trail of the 25-pounder and attempted to hook it in. All this, of course, was accompanied with giggling and profane utterances, as well as the clashing of gears associated with poor boozed-up driving skills. The gun, of course, was firmly fixed in place, and wasn't going anywhere. In the meantime, their antics awoke one of the living-in officers, who incidentally was an AOP pilot. Any gunner officer of that era would add, that explains a lot. Said officer grabbed his  pistol (we living-in types all kept our personal weapons in our quarters back then) along with a loaded magazine - horribly illegal - and dashed out of the quarters to do his own little bit of saving the gun. Bam, Bam, Bam, etc! Our hero shot the crap out of the RCD duty vehicle's tires, in the process, convincing the dragoon officers there were better places to be.

I was on a course in Shilo at the time so I got the story when I returned, by which time the account had reached epic proportions. However things were a bit rocky in Gagetown at the time, but a few happy hours solved that. The story was pretty well known at the time, but anybody in a position of authority turned a Nelsonian blind eye to the events. Nobody really tried it again, but the following year, one of our captains managed to steal a Centurion from the RCD tank park on Leliefontein night. Being a Centurion, it almost immediately broke down.
 
One of our former members had a penchant for tricking people into looking at their feet while at the urinal and then urinating on them. A good laugh when it's your fellow privates and corporals and it's in the JR's where you can just hose off your combat boot or Oxford and carry on.

Not such a good idea when it's a civy pub/club in Edmonton and the victim is your platoon commander. Even a worse idea when you've convinced your buddy to go on the other side of him and do the same thing.

The extras saw them through Afghanistan and in fact I think they had one or two left that were forgiven when we headed home only because our platoon commander (also a member of our unit) vetoed the platoon warrant with the knowledge there would be no reasonable way to enforce the remaining extras while the troops were on leave and once their class C ended.
 
The RCR.  Predeployment training 2009.  The Rations amendment email that overwhelmed the DWAN and resulted in strict orders not to forward it.

"Sir, your acting company 2i/c is a retard."
 
In clearing to the Pl Comds Course at Warminster (in the UK) through the Chief Clerk and he asks "What would you like the DS to call you?".

My instant and adamant reply: 'Sir'

Pause, two, three...

High pitched screams summon me into the (very close by) OC's Office where my first experience on the course was having him rip a mile wide strip off of me  ;)
 
dapaterson said:
The RCR.  Predeployment training 2009.  The Rations amendment email that overwhelmed the DWAN and resulted in strict orders not to forward it.

"Sir, your acting company 2i/c is a retard."

That was a classic!
 
Just got out of the Regular Force and was in Portage la Prairie's ER working while waiting for my proper job out of town to start.  Old diagnostic imaging requisitions had a line "Is this patient pregnant?" and you had to write "Yes" or "No".  I've been there maybe less than a week...XRay tech comes comes up to me after I'd ordered some films on someone and literally threw the form at me saying "You didn't fill this in right!" and stood there with a smug look on his face. 

I looked at the form, ankle views for a teenaged boy and said "What?".  He pointed at the pregnancy line.  I looked back up and said "This is a fuquing joke right?".  "No, you HAVE to fill that in".  So I said "Fine, I'll play your stupid game".

So I wrote "DUH" in the space provided and drew an arrow up to the gender on the patient ID sticker and threw the form back at him and said "Here's your fuquing form" with a "Just try it" look on my face...his eyes got real wide, mouth fell open, but he turned and stomped off and the kid got their XRays.

Surprisingly, I never had to see HR.

MM
 
I went to RRMC. Many, many years ago.

During Christmas exam routine, one of the evening %u201Ctraditions%u201D was the %u201CLasalle (flight) water walk%u201D, whereby one of the junior cadets from Lasalle flight (there were 7 flights in the Cadet Wing) would slow march down the steps of the accommodation block,  halt then use a traffic cone as a mgaphone to announce to the Cadet Wing how many days remained until Christmas Leave. Did I mention that, all the while, the entire cadet wing was pelting him/her with water balloons, buckets of water, etc. If the cadet dropped the traffic cone before making it back inside (at the slow march), they had to go again the next night.

My buds and I decided to kick things up a notch from water balloons, in order to make sure we had a surefire way to knock the cone out of the hands of the cadet. We conclude that more water was needed? LOTS more water.

So we lugged a 45 gal garbage can to the roof and filled it full with water. At the appointed time, the ceremony took place. The poor junior cadet completed his announcement and slow marched towards the lobby door. We were positioned directly above the door, 4 stories up. Our plan was simple: make it look like Niagara Falls. When the cadet got close the the door 4 of us struggled to lift nearly 450lbs of water onto a narrow ledge. We then tipped it over...and gravity decided to vote. The whole garbage pail ripped itself from our hands and plummeted 4 stories. Luckily, it was made of plastic and it narrowly missed the cadet. However, it still sounded like a bomb had gone off. The cadet was knocked completely off his feet and was washed down the stairs and into the parking lot in a whitewater rapids torrent of water (I don%u2019t remember what happened to the cone). There was complete silence amongst 200 cadets. We were mortified. A ranking Cadet descended upon us in seconds (it may have been the current CDS...). We apologized profusely and assured him we would never do anything so asinine again.... 
 
Wow.  Even though i just retired, I still can't tell a lot of these types or stories!  And I have a few....
 
SeaKingTacco said:
I went to RRMC. Many, many years ago.

During Christmas exam routine, one of the evening %u201Ctraditions%u201D was the %u201CLasalle (flight) water walk%u201D, whereby one of the junior cadets from Lasalle flight (there were 7 flights in the Cadet Wing) would slow march down the steps of the accommodation block,  halt then use a traffic cone as a mgaphone to announce to the Cadet Wing how many days remained until Christmas Leave. Did I mention that, all the while, the entire cadet wing was pelting him/her with water balloons, buckets of water, etc. If the cadet dropped the traffic cone before making it back inside (at the slow march), they had to go again the next night.

My buds and I decided to kick things up a notch from water balloons, in order to make sure we had a surefire way to knock the cone out of the hands of the cadet. We conclude that more water was needed? LOTS more water.

So we lugged a 45 gal garbage can to the roof and filled it full with water. At the appointed time, the ceremony took place. The poor junior cadet completed his announcement and slow marched towards the lobby door. We were positioned directly above the door, 4 stories up. Our plan was simple: make it look like Niagara Falls. When the cadet got close the the door 4 of us struggled to lift nearly 450lbs of water onto a narrow ledge. We then tipped it over...and gravity decided to vote. The whole garbage pail ripped itself from our hands and plummeted 4 stories. Luckily, it was made of plastic and it narrowly missed the cadet. However, it still sounded like a bomb had gone off. The cadet was knocked completely off his feet and was washed down the stairs and into the parking lot in a whitewater rapids torrent of water (I don%u2019t remember what happened to the cone). There was complete silence amongst 200 cadets. We were mortified. A ranking Cadet descended upon us in seconds (it may have been the current CDS...). We apologized profusely and assured him we would never do anything so asinine again....

I was the night before that one...thank...f....

I only had a garbage bag filled with water almost hit me....I think I used almost an entire roll of gun tape to keep the cone from being ripped from my hand...

Lasalle figures it would be Fraser to do that...not the Cartier Club...great idea...just the execution that slightly left something to be desired. ;D
 
Count yerself lucky that it was slightly left of target.  ;)

I vividly remember the wall of water kicking up a Tsunami that blew the doors of lobby open, flooding the duty office and getting the floor wet all the way to the stairs.

Did I mention how dumb we were?

 
Op deliverance - I think it was Feb, and while at Nairobi airport, I waited for the aircrew to finish cleaning the hercs and it was running late (darkness had fallen) I decided to tour the grounds. It was very cold that night and I was dressed for the day time (ss shirt) - not evening. The hairs on my arm were straight up and i was shivering a bit. Anyway, I came acroos a group of airport police, wearing great coats and huddled around a 45 gal drum with fire going. I wanted a little warmth so I approached the group and intros were done. One cop asked me "aren't you cold?"

I couldn't resist, I replied "no way! I'm from Canada and we love the cold." Then one asked "you hate the heat, right?"  "Yes, I hate it," was my reply. After saying our goodbyes, I went around the corner of a bldg, out of sight, and vigorously rubbed my arms and got back to the aircrew as fast as I could.
 
SeaKingTacco said:
I went to RRMC. Many, many years ago.

During Christmas exam routine, one of the evening %u201Ctraditions%u201D was the %u201CLasalle (flight) water walk%u201D, whereby one of the junior cadets from Lasalle flight (there were 7 flights in the Cadet Wing) would slow march down the steps of the accommodation block,  halt then use a traffic cone as a mgaphone to announce to the Cadet Wing how many days remained until Christmas Leave. Did I mention that, all the while, the entire cadet wing was pelting him/her with water balloons, buckets of water, etc. If the cadet dropped the traffic cone before making it back inside (at the slow march), they had to go again the next night.

My buds and I decided to kick things up a notch from water balloons, in order to make sure we had a surefire way to knock the cone out of the hands of the cadet. We conclude that more water was needed? LOTS more water.

So we lugged a 45 gal garbage can to the roof and filled it full with water. At the appointed time, the ceremony took place. The poor junior cadet completed his announcement and slow marched towards the lobby door. We were positioned directly above the door, 4 stories up. Our plan was simple: make it look like Niagara Falls. When the cadet got close the the door 4 of us struggled to lift nearly 450lbs of water onto a narrow ledge. We then tipped it over...and gravity decided to vote. The whole garbage pail ripped itself from our hands and plummeted 4 stories. Luckily, it was made of plastic and it narrowly missed the cadet. However, it still sounded like a bomb had gone off. The cadet was knocked completely off his feet and was washed down the stairs and into the parking lot in a whitewater rapids torrent of water (I don%u2019t remember what happened to the cone). There was complete silence amongst 200 cadets. We were mortified. A ranking Cadet descended upon us in seconds (it may have been the current CDS...). We apologized profusely and assured him we would never do anything so asinine again....

Typical gunner 'Ubique' = 'All over the place' ;)
 
dapaterson said:
The RCR.  Predeployment training 2009.  The Rations amendment email that overwhelmed the DWAN and resulted in strict orders not to forward it.

"Sir, your acting company 2i/c is a retard."

Hah, while I was at Depot for the Mounties, we had another cadet send what he thought was an 'all cadets' email looking for his jacket, speculating someone else had taken it fromt he coat rack at the mess by mistake. Anyway, rather than just the other troops on base, it went RCMP wide, resulting almost immediately in members from detachments around the country helpfully 'replying all' with photos of their locker rooms and confirmation that his jacket was not present in Ft Moose's Armpit, MB and various other exotic locales. The reply-all-pandemonium continued until the network unceremoniously crapped itself. Good times.
 
This is one of those stories that doesn't fall easily into any category, but probably could find a home here. Turn the clock back to June 1958 when I graduated from the RCA Depot in Shilo and was posted to 4 RCHA in Petawawa. My first battery commander was an ex-Permanent Force Major and RMC graduate named WH Roberts. If the name rings a bell, that is because his father commanded the Dieppe Raid. The "H" stood for Hamilton, and dad was known as Ham. Son, however, was known as Hambone, which should tell you something. (He also was known as the Muzzle Brake, because he was at the front and slowed down the action.) He was one of the officers, who having missed the cut for staff college could not be promoted. These guys spent far too long on regimental duty as a sub-unit commander, probably because they couldn't be trusted with anything else. We all figured he was dad's revenge on the Canadian Army for scapegoating him after Dieppe.

Anyhow, about 18 months later we were preparing for a ceremonial drive past for a very senior officer. The Bone believed in a mix of varsol and oil applied to the body of our vehicles as a vital element of maintenance. This, of course, was a dust magnet, and also made the surface rather slippery. The big day arrived, and the regiment commences the drive by. Well, our major's jeep approached the point where it is to turn into line for the drive past, Hambone stands, grasps the windshield frame in his left hand and orders "Turn right, NOW", his driver spins the wheel and pops the clutch, and our leader flies out of the jeep and breaks his right wrist when he crashes into the parade square.

That is not the end of the story. He emerged in due course from the medical system with a large plaster cast on his right arm from his hand to the elbow. We gunners, and not a few NCOs, soon began to ambush salute him. By that I mean we would lie in wait, say around a corner or behind some parked vehicles, and at the appropriate time would appear, all saluting and barking "Good Morning, Sir". At this point, Hambone would be jolted into reflex action, returning the salute smartly, and bashing himself in the head with his cast, then staggering on his way.
 
This didn't seem like a good idea at the time but just one of those stupid things.

Shortly after being posted from 3 RCHA to 2 RCHA we were having a regimental parade with weapons.

One of our subalterns, about a year senior to me, was a bit of a knob and liked to play up the role. We officers were promenading on the flank of the regiment while the RSM was dressing the parade when the knob started doing quick draws with his pistol. For whatever reason, which no one could ever determine, the knob had not cleared his pistol and it had blanks loaded in it; one of which went off.

Just like that the rest of us had no duty officer assignments for the next two months.

:cheers:
 
Old Sweat said:
That is not the end of the story. He emerged in due course from the medical system with a large plaster cast on his right arm from his hand to the elbow. We gunners, and not a few NCOs, soon began to ambush salute him. By that I mean we would lie in wait, say around a corner or behind some parked vehicles, and at the appropriate time would appear, all saluting and barking "Good Morning, Sir". At this point, Hambone would be jolted into reflex action, returning the salute smartly, and bashing himself in the head with his cast, then staggering on his way.

Fucken awesome!
 
We had an RSM who was not particularly well liked, an Armd Corps guy filling a position in an Inf unit as well.

There is a regimental custom that, at the Soldiers’ Xmas Dinner, the RSM and the CO receive ‘presents’.

This RSM opened his present and held it up, wondering what it was.

Turned out it was a helmet cam net. With the scrim completely made from....

.... zippers :)
 
Old Sweat said:
Anyhow, about 18 months later we were preparing for a ceremonial drive past for a very senior officer. The Bone believed in a mix of varsol and oil applied to the body of our vehicles as a vital element of maintenance. This, of course, was a dust magnet, and also made the surface rather slippery. The big day arrived, and the regiment commences the drive by. Well, our major's jeep approached the point where it is to turn into line for the drive past, Hambone stands, grasps the windshield frame in his left hand and orders "Turn right, NOW", his driver spins the wheel and pops the clutch, and our leader flies out of the jeep and breaks his right wrist when he crashes into the parade square.

That is not the end of the story. He emerged in due course from the medical system with a large plaster cast on his right arm from his hand to the elbow. We gunners, and not a few NCOs, soon began to ambush salute him. By that I mean we would lie in wait, say around a corner or behind some parked vehicles, and at the appropriate time would appear, all saluting and barking "Good Morning, Sir". At this point, Hambone would be jolted into reflex action, returning the salute smartly, and bashing himself in the head with his cast, then staggering on his way.

Now THIS actually made me LOL. Thanks for the laugh!!!!
 
During Battle School, we were introduced to orders parade for minor charges, e.g. late for parade. As our Sgt said, some of you will be doing this type of parade during you career. I was the first escort and behind me "Tex" the accused, followed by the second escort. We were marched in, right turn, halt, left turn, at ease. But Tex kept on marching, past me, around the oc's desk, then left turn, and finally stood at attention beside me. Loads of laughter followed.
 
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