The Wrong Camouflage on U.S. Troops in Iraq
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twoblink
Member
SKUNK should have been their tactical adviser...
Actually, we in the Navy usually like our Marines, so we just call you guys Ain't Real Marines Yet. Betcha didn't know it was an acronym.
Airedale is Aviation.
Blackshoe is Surface warfare deck type. Then you got your hole snipes, reactor trolls, bubbleheads on the submersible craft, etc.
Airedale is Aviation.
Blackshoe is Surface warfare deck type. Then you got your hole snipes, reactor trolls, bubbleheads on the submersible craft, etc.
D.W. Drang
Member
Grrr, after writing The Great American Post, I discovered that I somehow got Logged Out so all that great philosphy is lost to the ages. 
Navy joe: you forgot about Deck Apes. (I'm retired Army, but LSW was a Navy Brat.)
Navy joe: you forgot about Deck Apes. (I'm retired Army, but LSW was a Navy Brat.)
Oohh subject to a twofer, a blackshoe and a deck ape (as I was a Boatswain's Mate Second Class)! Ouch! All that was left out was "skimmer."
True stories. My company commander in boot was a MMC, a snipe. My boot was at RTC San Diego in the mid-80s. His last sea duty before becoming a boot driller was aboard the Kitty Hawk. RTC Sandog is continually overflown by commercial airliners as it in the path of Lindbergh Field.
Anyways, first week formed up as a company, the Chief asks our formation who is going to become a brownshoe. Predictably everyone stares in confusion. Then he says. "I don't know if anyone has informed you, but in the fleet the aircraft types are known as brownshoes or airedales. So how many of you are here?"
About 2/5ths of the company shoots up hands.
"Good! On my last ship, you were visitors for deployment or exercises, most of your types anyways. You come and you turn our ship into the loudest GD airport in the world! I'll tell y'all what's what! Everytime we are marching and we are overflown by a jet to the point that I cannot make myself heard you are all gonna drop (do push-ups) until I can hear myself again!"
And he did it too. Mashed 'em all about seven times a day. At least he did for the first four weeks before we went to the drill company barracks and then ran the grinder everytime we screwed up a marching tune or someone dropped a rifle tossing them about practicing for parades, graduation and such crap.
My CC had also made friends with a Marine DI across the fence next door where the jarheads were made. Our running tracks abutted each other, seperated by a fence. He and his Marine friend connived one day to have us running on the track at the same time. As we were running we could see the Marine recruits jogging in formation as they are given to do just as we squids were all strung out along the track haphazardly as befits our lack of strict regimentation. Our CC suddenly barks out an order. "Height line along the perimeter fence facing the Corps! DOUBLE TIME!" He then makes us start pulling out weeds by the roots along the fence line. The Marines came closer. "Ready? FIRE AT WILL!" We started chucking the weeds with their dirty root balls over the fence at the Marine formation. The DI on the other side starts screaming "INCOMING INCOMING!!!" At first, his company looks confused and then the DI starts screaming in a voice I had never even heard our CC come close to emulating. "GET IN THE (expletive deleted) FIGHT RIGHT NOW!" Evidently he was screaming at his squad leaders to shoot back. It was a pretty comical tribal war that got everyone dirty, cleared the fenceline of weeds, and got nobody hurt.
Our respective drill instructors then gave a joint speech about hoping to have gotten all of the rivalry out of us as we were only being separated by the fence during boot and that in the fleet, (a term used by both services) we are on the same team. The Marines fight, provide security aboard larger vessels and bases, we squids patch them up, and support them with transportation, naval gunfire and air support, and resupply.
I have never forgotten that speech though I cannot do it any justice.
Semper Fi to all of the Marines in Iraq right now, my heart is out there with you.
True stories. My company commander in boot was a MMC, a snipe. My boot was at RTC San Diego in the mid-80s. His last sea duty before becoming a boot driller was aboard the Kitty Hawk. RTC Sandog is continually overflown by commercial airliners as it in the path of Lindbergh Field.
Anyways, first week formed up as a company, the Chief asks our formation who is going to become a brownshoe. Predictably everyone stares in confusion. Then he says. "I don't know if anyone has informed you, but in the fleet the aircraft types are known as brownshoes or airedales. So how many of you are here?"
About 2/5ths of the company shoots up hands.
"Good! On my last ship, you were visitors for deployment or exercises, most of your types anyways. You come and you turn our ship into the loudest GD airport in the world! I'll tell y'all what's what! Everytime we are marching and we are overflown by a jet to the point that I cannot make myself heard you are all gonna drop (do push-ups) until I can hear myself again!"
And he did it too. Mashed 'em all about seven times a day. At least he did for the first four weeks before we went to the drill company barracks and then ran the grinder everytime we screwed up a marching tune or someone dropped a rifle tossing them about practicing for parades, graduation and such crap.
My CC had also made friends with a Marine DI across the fence next door where the jarheads were made. Our running tracks abutted each other, seperated by a fence. He and his Marine friend connived one day to have us running on the track at the same time. As we were running we could see the Marine recruits jogging in formation as they are given to do just as we squids were all strung out along the track haphazardly as befits our lack of strict regimentation. Our CC suddenly barks out an order. "Height line along the perimeter fence facing the Corps! DOUBLE TIME!" He then makes us start pulling out weeds by the roots along the fence line. The Marines came closer. "Ready? FIRE AT WILL!" We started chucking the weeds with their dirty root balls over the fence at the Marine formation. The DI on the other side starts screaming "INCOMING INCOMING!!!" At first, his company looks confused and then the DI starts screaming in a voice I had never even heard our CC come close to emulating. "GET IN THE (expletive deleted) FIGHT RIGHT NOW!" Evidently he was screaming at his squad leaders to shoot back. It was a pretty comical tribal war that got everyone dirty, cleared the fenceline of weeds, and got nobody hurt.
Our respective drill instructors then gave a joint speech about hoping to have gotten all of the rivalry out of us as we were only being separated by the fence during boot and that in the fleet, (a term used by both services) we are on the same team. The Marines fight, provide security aboard larger vessels and bases, we squids patch them up, and support them with transportation, naval gunfire and air support, and resupply.
I have never forgotten that speech though I cannot do it any justice.
Semper Fi to all of the Marines in Iraq right now, my heart is out there with you.
SodaPop
member
I'm perfectly willing to stand buck naked in the Iraqi desert in front of Iraqi marksmen.
I'm scared....real scared.....
SodaPop
member
On second thought, maybe that would scare them away.
I think I'd rather fight in a tuxedo.
I think I'd rather fight in a tuxedo.
Prodigalshooter
Member
Sodapop, that was priceless...
AZTOY
Member
I have a idea
Lets put all are troops in Micky Mouse costumes and DROP 20 tons of LSD on the Iraqi troops.
Lets put all are troops in Micky Mouse costumes and DROP 20 tons of LSD on the Iraqi troops.
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