Military BS Stories or the last liar wins.

[Alamo]

...the 2008 Program Objective Memorandum (POM, budgeting for two years in the future for the next six years and yes that job sucked) ....

I do not miss this part of the Air Force experience.

 

[Alamo]

... to add civilian positions (which are also funded from O&M money).

Weird factoid: Navy civilians are not paid from the same pot USAF civilians are, at least not when I was in. I don’t remember which other pot they’re paid from, but when we had a government shut down in the mid-1990s, my air force cvilians had to stay home on furlough but my Navy civilians continued to report to work because their money was still flowing. it was part of a diiferent appropriation that wasn’t affected by the budget conflict between President Clinton and Congress.

 

[KellyinAvon]

Weird factoid: Navy civilians are not paid from the same pot USAF civilians are, at least not when I was in. I don’t remember which other pot they’re paid from, but when we had a government shut down in the mid-1990s, my air force cvilians had to stay home on furlough but my Navy civilians continued to report to work because their money was still flowing. it was part of a diiferent appropriation that wasn’t affected by the budget conflict between President Clinton and Congress.

I remember that. My boss was an old retired MSgt (AD 54-77 or something like that) and he almost tore the door off the hinges leaving the minute he could leave.

 

[actaeon277]

These stories are fun. Though often not so fun when they happened.
But we all know, they are the exceptions.
The standard, is the long, excruciating bouts of boredom. Occasionally interrupted by brief moments of sharp terror. The brief moments will eventually be turned into a "sea story". To be fondly remembered as you forget the boredom.

But I'm thinking now of you, Doc,and you, Frank. And Dolan, and Dowdy, and Insigna and everyone else on that bucket.
All the guys everywhere who sail from Tedium to Apathy and back again, with an occasional side trip to Monotony.
This is a tough crew on here, and they have a wonderful battle record.
But I've discovered, Doc, that the unseen enemy of this war is the boredom that eventually becomes a faith and, therefore, a terrible sort of suicide.
(quote from the 1955 movie Mr. Roberts)

But that's because, the normal times we experienced, well.. they'd make TERRIBLE stories. No one would read them. No one would tell them. After all, there is no heroism in saying "I counted the holes in the sound dampened ceiling in Maneuvering (engineering control room).


The Life and Times of Petty Officer Actaeon.
Denizen of the Deep, and Scourge of the Seas.

It's 1 AM ship time. Which means NOTHING. Time is an illusion. Lunch time, doubly so.
But it is useful to divide up existence. Locked away from the world, in a steel can, breathing recycled farts from 4 months ago.
Looking up at my panel, I take another step on my journey. A journey that looks like it has a purpose, that acts like I'm keeping the Reactor safe, that keeps the EOOW (Engineering Officer Of the Watch) happy that I am busy.
Except the EOOW's eyes are glazed over. He's been staring at the same spot on the EPCP (Electric Plant Control Panel). He's been that way, well.. forever. I suspect he's trying to use his gaze to melt a hole in the panel. But that would imply the brain cells are jumping. And even money says that's not true.
So, I look up at the top left instrument on the panel.
In my mind, I tell myself the name of the instrument. The purpose of the instrument. The range, and theory of operation of it. It feels as if it's the 1 millionth time. I'd attempt to calculate a number, but I have the all important task of verifying Reactor Safety, the all important god that occupies my time. So I get on with my task.
I read the number. Has this number changed? Of course it hasn't. It hasn't changed since the beginning of time. Or a reasonable facsimile thereof. So the reading hasn't changed. Why? Another voice in my head tells me, because we're stuck on the bottom! The sub is performing a "wink wink, nudge nudge" operation in someone's backyard. If they knew we were here, we'd be dead. We have no defense except our stealth. To assist that stealth, the Plant is in a configuration for minimum power. We have less redundancy now. But this is another irrelevant point. If we are discovered, the biggest piece of us a few moments later might be a fingernail, left over from the holocaust that would result.
So the dial hasn't moved. The sub hasn't moved. The power level hasn't moved. We're on the backside of the Zenon Curve, so I don't even have that slow process to distract me. I've looked at this gauge a thousand times easily. And a thousand more times to go. And a thousand after that.
My thoughts drift again. I'm not tired. I'm getting more sleep than usual for a deployed sub. At least in my limited experience.
Oops, got to get back to the job. So the needle hasn't moved. This makes sense. Is it in acceptable range? Yes it is. Again. Is it in the expected range? Yes it is. Again. Stay on the job Actaeon. This is why you make the Big Bucks.
Do I have anymore reason to look at this meter? No. Thank God. Does.. Oops, sidetracking again. Move along, move along.
Move to the gauge to the right.
What is the name of the instrument? What is the purpose? How abut the range and theory of operation?
Is it really the 1 millionth time? Would it be more or less than 1 million? Should I calculate that? DANG IT. Back on track Act. The Reactor is now god, and it requires my attention.
I read the number.. again. Has this number changed? Of course it hasn't. Why hasn't it? Minimum level.. not moving.. stealth.. Xenon.. etc.
I wonder if it's daylight topside (on the surface). It's 1 AM ship's time. But that doesn't mean it's 1 AM local time. When did we last change the clocks? Was it in Italy? Was it when we were assigned to the Med. Fleet? Where are we now? Oh! That's right. They told me that. Right before they told me "I wasn't there".
DANG IT! BACK ON TRACK!
So, the needle hasn't moved. And it makes sense. Is it in the acceptable range? Yes it is. Again.
Is it in the expected range? Yes it is. Again. Do you really need to ask yourself that in 2 separate questions, the RPCP asks (Reactor Plant Control Panel). "Hush yourself" I tell the RPCP. You can't talk. Bad enough I have to listen to people. Now the equipment is giving me fits. Geez.
Back on track Act. I look to my right. After all, as the RO (Reactor Operator) I'm also supposed to keep an eye on the EO (Electrical Operator) and the EPCP, since they directly affect my Panel. The EO is staring at the EPCP. But I can't tell if he's staring, or sleeping with his eyes open. I think I can see his soul being leached into the gray paint of the EPCP. Equipment Gray paint. Not Bilge Gray, Deck Gray, or any of the 50 varieties of gray that the Navy has.
Back to my Panel.
Where was I? Do I need to start over? No. I was on the 2nd instrument on my journey. My journey that never leaves the crappy chair I'm in. The journey where my eyeballs get frequent flyer miles. Dang. Was that the 2nd instrument? Or am I remembering one of the thousand/hundred/million other sweeps.
The 2nd sounds good. On to the 3rd.
Left to right.
Top to bottom.
I check every instrument.
I check every indicator.
I check every switch position.
Is that in the right spot? Did it move? Should it have moved? Why? Is it acceptable? Is it expected?
Every time, my mind wanders. Another voice in the head talks to me. The equipment talks to me.
It takes me 3 minutes to sweep the panel. It takes me 3 years to sweep the panel.
I talk to the President. I talk to my Parents. I talk to my best friend. I talk to my ex-girlfriend. But always, I come back to the panel. I debate whether the paint is actually sucking the soul from my body, or if that voice in my head is just CRAZY.
I look to my left, after all, the Throttleman and the SPCP (Steam Plant Control Panel) also affect my panel.
He's looking back at the EOOW. Is he going to stand up and slam the EOOW's head into a panel? If he does it, should I stop him? Or help him?
Well, sitting here at the bottom of where we are, he's even more useless than I am. The Throttleman. Though I guess the same could be said of the EOOW. Or the EO. Or even me the RO.
After all, we're just watching gauges NOT move. Asking ourselves questions. Passing time.
What's going on forward? Is the mission progressing? Has anyone decided they need to check out our part of the area? Is death on the way? Should I even care if it is?
Somehow, I've completed a sweep of the panel. It took.. oops, already covered that.
The EO out of the blue sits straight up, turns to the Throttleman and me, and with a lazy grin on his face states, "Now I understand serial killers".
Okay. Does that make me feel better knowing I'm not the only one affected by the slow drip of my life being lost to the gray paint? Or is it scary?

Back up to the top left instrument.
The longest journey begins with the first step. What step am I on? Who knows? How many steps are there? How many to go?
At least I'm getting sleep. We are not running any casualty drills. Because we're rigged for a modified Battlestations. Battlestations is okay for a few hours, even 6. But we have to maintain this for 24 hours a day, day after day. So the watchbill was rewritten, divided into 2 shifts. Those on shift, do the minimum moving they can to perform their tasks. No NOISE!
Those off watch, only perform necessary tasks, or they must be in their bunk. They can sleep, or read. But they must be in the bunk unless they are needed for something.
Even off watch, the monotony continues.
Back on track.
What is the name of the instrument....

 

[Sigblaster]

I wasn't an Infantryman my whole career, so when I went to a non-combat arms MOS, I was the natural choice to lead OPFOR when we went to the field and didn't have any external OPFOR support. I wasn't one of those types who go "all Rambo, all the time", when on OPFOR. I would discuss each mission's training objectives with the commander, and set clear rules about how I would act and react. Any firefights would play out according to the actions of both sides, and I wasn't going to just let myself or my OPFOR troops get killed in place, unless the training objective was POW and casualty processing. BUT... If I catch your unit slacking, I WILL make Rambo look like Pee Wee Herman.

For example: Probing the lines. Me and another guy with M16s sneak up to about 150 meters or so from your defensive perimeter under cover of darkness, and pop off a round or two from behind cover. After a minute or two, we move around and do it again. Maybe one time, one of us will rip off half a magazine on full auto. Our objective is to get anyone to shoot back, so we can identify where their fighting positions are. We especially want to get a crew served weapon identified. The unit's objective is to not fire back unless they have clearly identifiable targets. Sometimes, the unit fires back, and we withdraw, radio the commander, and have an AAR. Sometimes they don't fire back, and we withdraw, and again have an AAR. But one time, the unit was slacking...

We creep up to the perimeter, and start the annoyance shooting. No response, so we creep a little closer, and shoot again. No response, so we creep a bit closer, and I can see an unmanned fighting position. WTF? I check my watch, we're on time, there should be somebody on the perimeter. My OPFOR buddy and I are standing in this foxhole wondering what's going on and what to do next, when I see someone walking towards us. I pop off a few rounds, and hear the MILES beeping, and see a plate of food flying as she drops to the ground, completely surprised. We run up to her, and I grab her M16 off her and a couple mags out of her mag pouch, and I tell my buddy, "F it, go nuts, kill everyone!". I ran around dual wielding M16s and shooting everyone I see, and my buddy is apparently doing the same. It was mayhem. Nobody knew who was shooting who, and we were killing people, dropping the extra M16, and picking up a fresh one off the new kill. I'm sure there were some friendly fire kills. My buddy got popped before I did, but I eventually got popped too, but not before we killed close to half the company, most of them in and around the mess tent.

At the AAR, we found out what happened. They were having hot chow that night, and it arrived late, and someone made the decision to pull everyone off the perimeter to feed without informing the commander. No 50% security, no 25% security, it was 0% security. I stuck around for a few minutes after the AAR chatting, and when I left, they were still reading off serial numbers on their weapons trying to get them back to their rightful owners.

 

[actaeon277]

 

[KellyinAvon]

I wasn't an Infantryman my whole career, so when I went to a non-combat arms MOS, I was the natural choice to lead OPFOR when we went to the field and didn't have any external OPFOR support. I wasn't one of those types who go "all Rambo, all the time", when on OPFOR. I would discuss each mission's training objectives with the commander, and set clear rules about how I would act and react. Any firefights would play out according to the actions of both sides, and I wasn't going to just let myself or my OPFOR troops get killed in place, unless the training objective was POW and casualty processing. BUT... If I catch your unit slacking, I WILL make Rambo look like Pee Wee Herman.

For example: Probing the lines. Me and another guy with M16s sneak up to about 150 meters or so from your defensive perimeter under cover of darkness, and pop off a round or two from behind cover. After a minute or two, we move around and do it again. Maybe one time, one of us will rip off half a magazine on full auto. Our objective is to get anyone to shoot back, so we can identify where their fighting positions are. We especially want to get a crew served weapon identified. The unit's objective is to not fire back unless they have clearly identifiable targets. Sometimes, the unit fires back, and we withdraw, radio the commander, and have an AAR. Sometimes they don't fire back, and we withdraw, and again have an AAR. But one time, the unit was slacking...

We creep up to the perimeter, and start the annoyance shooting. No response, so we creep a little closer, and shoot again. No response, so we creep a bit closer, and I can see an unmanned fighting position. WTF? I check my watch, we're on time, there should be somebody on the perimeter. My OPFOR buddy and I are standing in this foxhole wondering what's going on and what to do next, when I see someone walking towards us. I pop off a few rounds, and hear the MILES beeping, and see a plate of food flying as she drops to the ground, completely surprised. We run up to her, and I grab her M16 off her and a couple mags out of her mag pouch, and I tell my buddy, "F it, go nuts, kill everyone!". I ran around dual wielding M16s and shooting everyone I see, and my buddy is apparently doing the same. It was mayhem. Nobody knew who was shooting who, and we were killing people, dropping the extra M16, and picking up a fresh one off the new kill. I'm sure there were some friendly fire kills. My buddy got popped before I did, but I eventually got popped too, but not before we killed close to half the company, most of them in and around the mess tent.

At the AAR, we found out what happened. They were having hot chow that night, and it arrived late, and someone made the decision to pull everyone off the perimeter to feed without informing the commander. No 50% security, no 25% security, it was 0% security. I stuck around for a few minutes after the AAR chatting, and when I left, they were still reading off serial numbers on their weapons trying to get them back to their rightful owners.

I'd rather be OPFOR than MOPP-4

 

[actaeon277]

 

[KellyinAvon]

Sometime in 1993: Young USAF SSgt KellyinAvon was a Supply Troop stationed at K-2 Air Base in Taegu, Republic of Korea. We were a small unit (a Detachment of a Squadron, 27 Blue-Suiters on a base with 5 ROKAF fighter squadrons and the F-4 depot.)

At a War Reserve Materiel (WRM) base there were things you didn't normally see. Our Ammo troops had to have a crap-ton of lumber. They also had to have a small quantity of a VERY specific set-screw. It was used to convert a MK-82 (general purpose 500 pound bomb) into a water-mine.

The VERY specific set-screw had a National Stock Number (NSN). Problem was you couldn't order it through the USAF, since it's a water-mine and that's the Navy. I was USAF so I couldn't order stuff from the Navy because, I really don't know why.

One day, out of the blue, I get a phone call from a Navy dude in Okinawa. He was from a unit called MOMAG-10 (I don't remember what I had for breakfast, but I remember this) and if I hadn't done time on the Navy Yard in Iceland I couldn't have understood a word this guy said since it was 100% Navy jargon.

Long story short, MOMAG-10 "had the CON when it came to mines" and this dude threw a couple hundred of the VERY specific set-screws in a box and mailed them to me.

Going through official channels, they'd still be waiting for the VERY specific set-screws needed to turn MK-82s into water mines.

 

[actaeon277]

Each of the services has their "lingo"

 

[HoughMade]

This was posted by a Marine friend of mine:

 

[2A_Tom]

Sometime in 1993: Young USAF SSgt KellyinAvon was a Supply Troop stationed at K-2 Air Base in Taegu, Republic of Korea. We were a small unit (a Detachment of a Squadron, 27 Blue-Suiters on a base with 5 ROKAF fighter squadrons and the F-4 depot.)

At a War Reserve Materiel (WRM) base there were things you didn't normally see. Our Ammo troops had to have a crap-ton of lumber. They also had to have a small quantity of a VERY specific set-screw. It was used to convert a MK-82 (general purpose 500 pound bomb) into a water-mine.

The VERY specific set-screw had a National Stock Number (NSN). Problem was you couldn't order it through the USAF, since it's a water-mine and that's the Navy. I was USAF so I couldn't order stuff from the Navy because, I really don't know why.

One day, out of the blue, I get a phone call from a Navy dude in Okinawa. He was from a unit called MOMAG-10 (I don't remember what I had for breakfast, but I remember this) and if I hadn't done time on the Navy Yard in Iceland I couldn't have understood a word this guy said since it was 100% Navy jargon.

Long story short, MOMAG-10 "had the CON when it came to mines" and this dude threw a couple hundred of the VERY specific set-screws in a box and mailed them to me.

Going through official channels, they'd still be waiting for the VERY specific set-screws needed to turn MK-82s into water mines.

It reminds me of when I was an armorer in the 82nd Airborne.

The entire Division was critically short of M60 machine guns. A Company has 6 and a Battalion has 30 I think. It was so bad that when a Battalion was scheduled to go On DRF1 (Deployment Ready Force 1, wheels up in 18 hours) they had to borrow machine guns from other units.

The M60 dust cover consists of the cover, spring, retention rod and a tiny cotter pin. Removing the dust cover is Third level maintenance, which means the operator (1st level) the armorer (2nd level) are not allowed to remove it. Ha ha.

But just like removing the M16 buttstock is 2nd level, try to stop a hundred + infantrymen and 6 machine gunners not to do it.

So, when the machine gunners would clean their guns they would remove the dust cover and would either lose or break the tiny clutter pin.

Since the pin was third level, I could not get them. The problem was that the guys at that level had them on order and could not get any. This went on for months.

I had 3 guns at third level and I could not stand it. So I am sitting in my arms room with an M60 in front of me, just looking at it. While pondering it I picked up my stapler and was turning it over and over (antique fidget spinner) and I opened it up and and shot out a staple on the desk.

LIGHT BULB!!!

I picked up the staple, a pair of needle nose, and a small nail. I took the staple, bent it around the nail and made a clutter pin. It was the exact right size.

I made over a hundred of them and put some of them in my (illegal) parts stash and a hundred in a small baggy.

I went to 3rd level maintenance and called Sgt Alvarez the head armorer to the window. When he came over a asked if he knew what this thing was and handed him one.

His eyes lit up and asked where I had gotten it. I then threw the bag on the table and said if you pull my three guns right now he could have them. I explained how I had made them and he loved it.

I walked out with my guns and from then on I was a most favored person at third level maintenance.

PS The 82nd Airborne Division was combat ready again.

 

[repeter1977]

It reminds me of when I was an armorer in the 82nd Airborne.

The entire Division was critically short of M60 machine guns. A Company has 6 and a Battalion has 30 I think. It was so bad that when a Battalion was scheduled to go On DRF1 (Deployment Ready Force 1, wheels up in 18 hours) they had to borrow machine guns from other units.

The M60 dust cover consists of the cover, spring, retention rod and a tiny cotter pin. Removing the dust cover is Third level maintenance, which means the operator (1st level) the armorer (2nd level) are not allowed to remove it. Ha ha.

But just like removing the M16 buttstock is 2nd level, try to stop a hundred + infantrymen and 6 machine gunners not to do it.

So, when the machine gunners would clean their guns they would remove the dust cover and would either lose or break the tiny clutter pin.

Since the pin was third level, I could not get them. The problem was that the guys at that level had them on order and could not get any. This went on for months.

I had 3 guns at third level and I could not stand it. So I am sitting in my arms room with an M60 in front of me, just looking at it. While pondering it I picked up my stapler and was turning it over and over (antique fidget spinner) and I opened it up and and shot out a staple on the desk.

LIGHT BULB!!!

I picked up the staple, a pair of needle nose, and a small nail. I took the staple, bent it around the nail and made a clutter pin. It was the exact right size.

I made over a hundred of them and put some of them in my (illegal) parts stash and a hundred in a small baggy.

I went to 3rd level maintenance and called Sgt Alvarez the head armorer to the window. When he came over a asked if he knew what this thing was and handed him one.

His eyes lit up and asked where I had gotten it. I then threw the bag on the table and said if you pull my three guns right now he could have them. I explained how I had made them and he loved it.

I walked out with my guns and from then on I was a most favored person at third level maintenance.

PS The 82nd Airborne Division was combat ready again.

It's always funny to see what work arounds we had to do out of necessity to accomplish the mission.

 

[Nazgul]

I was a young SGT in the Marines and was accepted into MECEP, an enlisted commissioning program. Transferred to finish college to Seattle, WA. Immediately signed up for the pistol and rifle team. I ended up coaching the pistol team 3 years. We were allotted 10 45's and received 5K rounds every year. Digging thru the armory we noticed the 45's had never been fired and we had no ammo. Turns out the Gunny was selling the ammo. He transferred out soon after I arrived and we received our 5K rounds.

There was an unused Coast Guard indoor range on our base. Got permission to use it, 2 of us had to be qualified as RSO's and had to allow any Marine that wanted to shoot. Some showed up the first couple of times, then we were all alone with lots of ammo!!

Needless to say, every round was expended every year.

Don

 

[2A_Tom]

I went to the 45 range as range armorer for qualification.

We had 6 machine gunners, 6 assistant gunners, 3 mortar gunners, 3 assistant mortar gunners, a couple of officers and myself. About 24 of us qualified at 50 rounds per man. That's 1250 rounds.

Afterwards they were trucked back to the unit. I stayed because the company pistol team had to practice.

The Range Officer told me he had 5000 rounds and I could shoot as much as I wanted. While the team moved to the adjacent range I stayed and shot at my original targets that I could hardly hit with the 1911. With in an hour or two I had shot both the 25 and 50 foot target off the stakes and shot the stakes to splinters.

The pistol team next door were shooting at pop cans on the 300 ft. berm. I think I moved one once.

Needless to say Girene, all of the ammo was expended THAT DAY.

BTW That is why I carry a 1911A1 GI model to this day.

 

[actaeon277]

 

[nonobaddog]

May Day, May Day, May Day!

 

[2A_Tom]

M'aider, m'aider, m'aider!

 

[2A_Tom]

I love the beginning where he says the reason for inaccuracy is caused by retired officers as advisors.

All in all very good watch.

 

[Nazgul]

Another thread reminded me of this one.

Returning from a deployment to the Med on a carrier. The Marines had some familiarization fire to burn ammo that was on the ship. Saved turning it in and the paperwork involved.

After we where done the Navy Master at Arms Chief called our SGT Major and said the had 2 M 60's that had not been fired, would we make sure they worked.
SGT Major Frederick Douglass, my favorite Marine came out of his room and hollered "SGT Page with me now!!". I jumped and followed him. As soon as we were in the passageway he started to laugh and told me what we were doing. On the Port Quarter was 2 M-60's with 3,000 rounds hooked to each one. We fired until it was gone. I fired 2,000 pretty much in one burst. The barrels were hot!! Handed the smoking guns back to them to clean and said they worked fine.

The SGT Major was killed in the Beirut Marine barracks bombing, 1983. Loved that Marine, he taught all of us a lot. He did 4 tours in Viet Nam, had more bullet holes in him than I thought possible. Real warrior. He was 6' 5" or so, filled a hatchway, when he spoke you listened.

Don