More 511th Jokes and Humor

This 11th entry from the annals of 511th MI Company history is a continuation of the jokes that I introduced in my last post. As a quick reminder, these entries were all collected from the voluminous number of utterly useless messages that we sent back and forth between the EW platoons over the ASAS datalink system in the TRQ-32s.


The Official EW2 List of Things "Not to Do with Coffee"

  1. Don't make oatmeal with coffee
  2. Don't drink mess hall coffee after eating red lifesavers
  3. Don't drink mess hall coffee, period
  4. Don't let Paski near a full cup of coffee while on pos, unless you want to wear it
  5. Don't pour coffee on your Lt.
  6. Don't share coffee with your T&A team, unless you plan to resupply them forever
  7. Don't let Alex, Fred, or J.J. near a full pot of coffee and an ASAS Datalink
  8. Don't wash your field socks in coffee
  9. Don't use coffee as brake, hydraulic, or windshield wiper fluid (However, you can use it for rust removal)
  10. Don't yodel with your mouth full of coffee
  11. Don't puke, piss, or pop pimples in a pot of coffee
  12. Don't deploy to the field without lots of it

(J.J. Simmons and Bob McMurray, "Caravan Guard" 1989)

A Story

[Note: As if we hadn’t picked on 1LT Stahl enough, I wrote the following story about him. (Of course, D.A.T. means "Dumb Ass Tanker".)]

Once upon a time, all was well in E.W. land. The birds were singing and the jammers were jamming. Happiness just seemed to flow from everything about the EWites. Their lives were simple yet full of good cheer. They truly loved the work that they did and fancied to themselves that maybe it was important for some reason.

But then one day, "IT" came to town. The dreaded D.A.T.-Beast that they had all heard rumors of. There was no way to stop it. No way to prepare. No time to run or hide. It fell upon the helpless EWites and viscously attacked them. It tore at their very hearts as if it derived joy from seeing others suffer. It held no concept of the work that they tried so hard to do. It scarred their precious COMSEC habits. It had no life of its own, and thus it began to feed on the lives of others like some inhuman vampire of man's very essence.

It possessed no concept of right or wrong. It sought only self-importance and personal gain - the incredible irony to the role in which it chose to masquerade itself; an Army officer. By design the title should reflect an attitude of responsibility, accompanied by a genuine sense of caring for the well-being of its subordinates. But the Beast held not one endearing trait as a leader of men. A thoughtless, soulless specter shaped like a man. An empty, hollow shell that somehow tried to crush the will of others to bring itself some sadistic form of pleasure.

In its arrogance and pride, it has the audacity to raise its head in a flare of self-righteous temper and cry, "How dare you question my judgment?" when its imperfections are exposed. But therein lies its tragic flaw; for no puffed up ego that rests upon one's shoulders can lay low enough to duck through every door. Sooner or later it comes crashing to the ground at the wrong time yet in the right place, and if all luck prevails the Beast will die in some strange way. The hope remains that this mass of flesh that torments man will indeed fall prey to the traps that it laid for others, and some as yet unseen force will attack and purge this cancerous ego infection from the Beast, leaving enough to mold into a shape more closely resembling a man.

(Bob "Fred" McMurray, "Bold Lancer" 1989)

The World: Man's Future Foretold...

Life as we know it, has ended.
The nations of the world have all been devastated by a massive nuclear war.
Civilization is no more.
The peoples of the world are massing together in an effort to reclaim their lives.
The leader of the masses has been designated Emperor of the World.
The Emperor has maintained order in America the ten years since WWIII.
Very few oppose the emperor; those who do wish for a quick death.
Damnation of the rebels is personally levied by the hand of the emperor:
J.J. Slayer.
Are you damned in this Hell???????

(J.J. Simmons, Caravan Guard, 1989)

Bad DF-Ville (Sung to the tune of Margaritaville)

Wasting away again in Bad DF-Ville,
Searching for my lost OPFOR freq.
Some people say that there's an LT to blame,
But I know, that it's all TCAE's fault.

DF's and fixes, we all know what we're missin'.
We don't have a clue where the enemy stays.
"Gimme a grid square...I don't care where,"
That's all we hear from the TCAE goons.
But it don't matter, ignore the radio chatter.
Don't even bother, you'll be jumping real soon.

Wasting away again in Bad DF-Ville,
Searching for my lost OPFOR freq.
Some people say that the Blue LT is to blame,
But I know, that it's all TCAE's fault.

(Bill  McCollum, Hohenfels 1990)


That wraps it up for this post, but I have a few more jokes in my files to post in the future.

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