A newly married sailor was informed by the Navy that he was going to be stationed a long way from home on a remote island in the Pacific for a year.

A few weeks after he got there he began to miss his new wife, so he wrote her a letter.

“My love,” he wrote, “we are going to be apart for a very long time. Already I’m starting to miss you and there’s really not much to do here in the evenings.”

“Besides that,” he continued. “we’re constantly surrounded by young attractive native girls. Do you think if I had a hobby of some kind I would not be tempted?”

So his wife sent him back a harmonica saying, “Why don’t you learn to play this?”

Eventually his tour of duty came to an end and he rushed back to his wife.

“Darling” he said, “I can’t wait to get you into bed so that we make passionate love!”

She kissed him passionately and said, “First, let’s see you play that harmonica.”

The following is a recount of a National Public Radio (NPR) interview between a female broadcaster, and US Army General Reinwald who was about to sponsor a Boy scout Troop visiting his military installation.

FEMALE INTERVIEWER: “So, General Reinwald, what things are you going to teach these young boys when they visit your base?”

GENERAL REINWALD: “We’re going to teach them climbing, canoeing, archery, and shooting.”

INTERVIEWER: “Shooting! That’s a bit irresponsible, isn’t it?”

REINWALD: “I don’t see why, they’ll be properly supervised on the rifle range.”

INTERVIEWER: “Don’t you admit that this is a terribly dangerous activity to be teaching children?”

REINWALD: “I don’t see how, we will be teaching them proper rifle range discipline before they ever touch a firearm.”

INTERVIEWER: “But you’re equipping them to become violent killers.”

REINWALD: “Well, you’re equipped to be a prostitute, but you’re not one, are you?”

The radio went silent and the interview ended.

The following is a verbal exchange that depicts typical respect for Superior Officers in the Military:

Officer: “Soldier, do you have change for a dollar?”

Soldier: “Sure, buddy.”

Officer: “That’s no way to address an officer! Let’s try it again. Soldier, do you have change for a dollar?”

Soldier: “Sir! No, sir!”

Having just moved into his new office, a pompous, new colonel was sitting at his desk when an airman knocked on the door.

Conscious of his new position, the colonel paused for a moment before telling the airman to enter.

He then picked up the phone and said into it, “Yes, General, I’ll be seeing him this afternoon and I’ll pass along your message. In the meantime, thank you for your good wishes, sir.”

Feeling as though he had sufficiently impressed the young enlisted man, he asked, “What do you want?”

“Nothing important, sir,” the airman replied with a slight grin. “I’m just here to hook up your telephone.”

I am over 60 and the Armed Forces thinks I’m too old to track down terrorists. You can’t be older than 42 to join the military. They’ve got the whole thing ass-backwards. Instead of sending 18-year olds off to fight, they ought to take us old guys. You shouldn’t be able to join a military unit until you’re at least 35.

For starters: Researchers say 18-year-olds think about sex every 10 seconds. Old guys only think about sex a couple of times a day, leaving us more than 28,000 additional seconds per day to concentrate on the enemy.

Young guys haven’t lived long enough to be cranky, and a cranky soldier is a dangerous soldier. ‘My back hurts! I can’t sleep, I’m tired and hungry’ We are impatient and maybe letting us kill some asshole that desperately deserves it will make us feel better and shut us up for a while.

An 18-year-old doesn’t even like to get up before 10 a.m. Old guys always get up early to pee so what the hell. Besides, like I said, ‘I’m tired and can’t sleep and since I’m already up, I may as well be up killing some fanatical S.O.B.

If captured we couldn’t spill the beans because we’d forget where we put them. In fact, name, rank, and serial number would be a real brainteaser.

Boot camp would be easier for old guys. We’re used to getting screamed and yelled at and we’re used to soft food. We’ve also developed an appreciation for guns. We’ve been using them for years as an excuse to get out of the house, away from the screaming and yelling.

They could lighten up on the obstacle course however. I’ve been in combat and didn’t see a single 20-foot wall with rope hanging over the side, nor did I ever do any push ups after completing basic training.

Actually, the running part is kind of a waste of energy, too. I’ve never seen anyone outrun a bullet.

An 18-year-old has the whole world ahead of him. He’s still learning to shave, to start up a conversation with a pretty girl. He still hasn’t figured out that a baseball cap has a brim to shade his eyes, not the back of his head.

These are all great reasons to keep our kids at home to learn a little more about life before sending them off into harm’s way.

Let us old guys track down those dirty rotten coward terrorists. The last thing an enemy would want to see is a couple of million pissed off old farts with attitudes and automatic weapons who know that their best years are already behind them.

A general noticed one of his soldiers behaving oddly.

The soldier would pick up any piece of paper he found, frown and say, “That’s not it” and put it down again.

This went on for some time, until the general arranged to have the soldier psychologically tested.

The psychologist concluded that the soldier was deranged, and wrote out his discharge from the army.

The soldier picked it up, smiled and said, “That’s it.”

The following is a letter home to parents from an Idaho farm kid who recently joined the Army and is currently undergoing Basic Training:

Dear Ma and Pa,

I am well. Hope you are. Tell Brother Walt and Brother Elmer the Army beats working for old man Minch by a mile. Tell them to join up quick before all of the places are filled.

I was restless at first because you got to stay in bed till nearly 6 a.m. But I am getting so I like to sleep late. Tell Walt and Elmer all you do before breakfast is smooth your cot, and shine some things. No hogs to slop, feed to pitch, mash to mix, wood to split, fire to lay. Practically nothing.

Men got to shave but it is not so bad, there’s warm water. Breakfast is strong on trimmings like fruit juice, cereal, eggs, bacon, etc., but kind of weak on chops, potatoes, ham, steak, fried eggplant, pie and other regular food, but tell Walt and Elmer you can always sit by the two city boys that live on coffee. Their food, plus yours, holds you until noon when you get fed again. It’s no wonder these city boys can’t walk much.

We go on ‘route marches,’ which the platoon sergeant says are long walks to harden us. If he thinks so, it’s not my place to tell him different.. A ‘route march’ is about as far as to our mailbox at home. Then the city guys get sore feet and we all ride back in trucks.

The sergeant is like a school teacher. He nags a lot. The Captain is like the school board. Majors and colonels just ride around and frown. They don’t bother you none.

This next will kill Walt and Elmer with laughing. I keep getting medals for shooting. I don’t know why. The bulls-eye is near as big as a chipmunk head and don’t move, and it ain’t shooting at you like the Higgett boys at home. All you got to do is lie there all comfortable and hit it. You don’t even load your own cartridges. They come in boxes.

Then we have what they call hand-to-hand combat training. You get to wrestle with them city boys. I have to be real careful though, they break real easy. It ain’t like fighting with that ole bull at home. I’m about the best they got in this except for that Tug Jordan from over in Silver Lake. I only beat him once. He joined up the same time as me, but I’m only 5′6′ and 130 pounds and he’s 6′8′ and near 300 pounds dry.

Be sure to tell Walt and Elmer to hurry and join before other fellers get onto this setup and come stampeding in.

Your loving daughter,

Alice