rSlash - r/Militarystories Idiot Yells At Army Veteran And Instantly Regrets It!

Episode Date: April 11, 2021

r/Militarystories In today's episode, a bunch of army veterans were put back into basic training due to bureaucratic red tape. When these seasoned veterans go to help set up a shooting range, a bunch of drill sergeants immediately jump on the veterans and start screaming at them. Well, they picked on the wrong soldiers, because the veterans quickly establish the pecking order in hilarious fashion! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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instantly regrets it. Our next Reddit post is from Jeh-ha. I was stationed in Germany during the Cold War. Our mission was to help secure the border between East and West Germany via two outposts. There were a bunch of these towers along the length of the border, and we would rotate troops and have them stationed there for about two or three weeks at a time. We had this certain stretch of the border to monitor, and on the other side of the border there were East German towers, with a few guys in each tower watching us watch them.

This was my tour during the Cold War. All kidding aside, this was a big deal. The US government thought that if the Soviets were going to start a ground war in Europe, this is where they would do it. Our job was to let everyone else know and do our best to hold them back. One of our lieutenants decided he wanted to have some fun and screw with the East Germans a little. There was only so much you could do out there, so you found your own fun when you could. So, one bright sunny spring day, I drove my lieutenant

out to a hilltop inside of the East German tower about a quarter of a mile away. I stopped, and my lieutenant pulled out a lunchbox covered in aluminum foil with a few coat hanger swissed around it, took like some strange device. We pulled up, my lieutenant hopped out of the jeep, and he set up his device on the hood of his car, in plain view of the tower. Then he opened the lid and pretended to fiddle around with the insides of the box. He looked around a bit, and then jumped back in the Jeep and we sped off very quickly. That... What am I reading?

That was Monday. On Tuesday, we did the exact same thing at the same time and sped off. On Wednesday, we were back doing the same thing. Only this time when I looked at the tower, instead of just two guys with guns and binoculars, there were four guys staring back at us trying to figure out what the hell we were doing. After about a minute, my lieutenant jumped back in the Jeep and we took off. On Thursday. On Thursday we did the same thing, but there were even more people down there staring

back at us. But we kept the same routine, only staying a minute before leaving. On Friday we showed back up at the same time, and this time, there were about a dozen people in the tower with a couple of vehicles parked at the base. Everyone had binoculars and were just staring us down. This time, though, we both got out and when we opened up the box, we pulled out a couple of sandwiches and cogs and had lunch. You could hear the yelling from a quarter of a mile away.

OP, don't get me wrong, that's an amazing story, but did you almost start World War 3 over a lunch box? Our next reddit post is from deleted. Prologue, due to a combination of wildly overoptimistic academic goals and a fear of commitment, my first enlistment was in the US Army reserves. I went into jump out of airplanes and shoot machine guns to pay for college, and Uncle Sam extended an invitation to do all of that, so long as I made a six-year commitment to be all that I can be one weekend each month and two weeks each year.

I wrapped up my basic training and finally came home, and when I first reported for duty, the commander tells us he has some bad news. The units being decommissioned, and we have to find a new home. In the spirit of things that make no sense, I was reassigned to Army Basic Training Battalion at this time in Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri, along with about 150 other prior service troops to await orders to my first active duty unit. No joke! As a prior active duty soldier, I couldn't just slide into

an active slot. We had to be properly re-indcternated, and the only place we could do that was, apparently, effing Missouri. Here's where things start to get fun. We had all sorts of people in our company. With 150 or so troops in the company, we had everyone from infantrymen to comms folks, to personnel clerks, to intel whinies like me, as well as a handful of prior service marines. We even had a few special forces members, and not one, but two Ranger tab sergeants, all of whom were combat vets of the Gulf War. Through dumb luck, I wound up in the same squad with these bad asses, the payoff.

Very early one morning, so my squad is tasked to prep one of the ranges for actual trainees. We were promised it would only be a couple of hours of work, and then we'd have the rest of the day off. At about 5.30am on a chilly October morning, we're corraled to the back of a 5 ton truck for the drive to the range. One of the first class dudes is our nominal platoon sergeant and we have one of those sergeant rangers on board too. It's too early to joke around much, but conversation is light and we're expecting this to be pretty easy. Then we'd be released for breakfast. What we get is a little different. The 5 ton truck lands at the range and immediately

we hear shouting. The back gate is dropped and a bevy of drill sergeants are there to greet us in their own unique way. I get flashbacks to basic training. We're too slow for them because F them, but also F them. We are not trainees. They don't care and they start to pick us apart individually. One of them instantly locks into the sergeant ranger who's sporting a ranger on his patrol cap.

Oh, what do we have here, a Ranger wannabe? Who the F do you think you are wearing your hatgear like that, private? Rabble, rabble, rabble. The Sargent Ranger is both irritated and nonplussed. It's remarkable, really. It's too early for this, and given this guy's service record, it's simultaneously too late for this as well. We're all caught off guard, mouth-a-gap. The Sergeant Ranger collects himself and casually drops

down from the truck and the following exchange occurs. Listen, he begins as he starts to unzip his field jacket. Until you have one of these, he points to his airborne wings with combat jump-star badge. Or one of these, sliding his arm out of his jacket, he points to his Ranger tab. Or one of these. He sheds his field jacket completely and points to a combat Ranger school. Then you can talk to me like that. But until then you will SHUT THE FUCK UP! Those last words vibrated among us.

Time froze. Tunnel vision ensued, and the whiff of a Wild West showdown permeated everything. The drill sergeant's froze mid-shout, furiously scrambling to do the mental math to figure out what comes next. This scenario was clearly not covered in any training in the drill sergeant's academy. This is fun. Finally, one of the Drill Sergeant collects himself and says, Who, who the F are you? The Sergeant First Class dude has quite enjoyed this, but he intervenes. He quickly jumps down out of the

truck and introduces himself and us. He says, we're all prior service Drill Sergeant. We're on casual status just waiting for orders. They told us to report here to give you guys an assist. I'm a sergeant first class, and he extends a hand as a means of introduction. The last remnants of confusion settle into the dirt as his situation starts to come into focus. The drill sergeants look at each other and then back to us, and eventually their demeanor improves.

There's some nervous laughter. Well, half me, one of them says, no one said anything about prior service, they just told us to be here to meet a truck full of soldiers from one of the training companies. So you guys got one of our performances. This Sergeant Ranger had already made his point and he's not a butthole, so no hard feelings.

We got briefed on what we're expected to do and where to find the right tools. The drill sergeants see an opportunity for a relatively easy start to their duty day, so they're happy to leave us be. A couple of them head off to the dining facility with a promise of returning with hot coffee and something to eat to make amends. And that's how I got to see a basic training trainee tell a US Army drill sergeant to shut the F up and not only survive, but also earn an apology and coffee for it. At Salesforce, we're all about asking more of AI.

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He was a total dynamo of a guy. Sergeant Jesse came back from Vietnam as an E7, and was placed in command of a group of white soldiers who were led by a bunch of E6's good old boys who couldn't handle having a black man give them orders. Jesse didn't care, he just did his job. One day, Sergeant Jesse bought his wife a new Cadillac with white wall tires and he drove it on base to get his DOD window sticker. The car was parked in their company's parking lot where all the non-commissioned officers

parked. And much to his surprise when he returned, all four tires were slashed. The E6's were all curious and asked, well what are you gonna do? It could have been anybody. Are we gonna question the whole company about your wife's tires? By the way, how you getting home, Yuck? The only thing they didn't say was boy, but it was understood that they thought

that he was going to have to either raise a huge ruckus and become a distraction to command right as he just got there, thus diminishing his reputation or just eat this and keep on going. Jesse did not play that way. He just said, I'm not going to look for who did this. He's gonna come to me. S. First Sergeant. So I already know where this is going. S. First Sergeant. Sergeant Jesse could authorize field training exercises and physical training at his discretion. He called the company to order and told them they were going to field training exercises

immediately. They were ordered to grab only their GI issued gear and to be prepared to overnight for several days. Then he walked them about 10 miles out into the woods and told them to set up their tents. That is, after they constructed the nicer tent with a wooden floor and the portable stove for Jesse. He posted a guard at his door, lit a fire in the stove, and went to sleep. Did I mention that it was December and that everyone else was sleeping on the ground in pup tents with no heat? Then, the exercises began. Jesse ran them like rented meals for two days through

those woods. Long morning and evening runs. Push-ups, pull-ups, lunges, digging latrine trenches and frozen ground. You know, team building camaraderie inspiring torturous BS. After two days, one of the E-60s showed up with two black eyes. Looking like 10 pounds of f***ing a 5 pound bag, as Jesse would say. Apparently, overnight the company pulled a code raid on this guy and beat him until he agreed to confess, because they were damn tired of living in the woods in winter. Jesse docked the man's pay and made him replace the tires, but he didn't file charges against him because he thought that he'd paid dearly enough. And more importantly, Jesse had made his point for everyone on base to see.

Do NOT screw with Sergeant Jesse. Down in the comments, a deleted user says exactly what I was thinking. What dumb idiotic back would Hillbilly would ever think that it's a good idea to screw with someone who outranked you. Our next reddit post is from Kaitulu. So there I was, a young SPC assigned to my first unit in South Korea stationed at Camp Humphreys. Early on, I managed to get license on every piece of rolling stock that we had.

So naturally, I was tasked out to drive a lot. One fine day, I was tasked, along with another driver, to return our gear to another camp. So me and four other guys set off in medium tactical vehicles that were packed full of gear. We drove a couple of hours north, dropped off our gear, had a leisurely lunch at the Katusa snack bar, then drove back. We arrived back at Camp Humphrey at 1530, parked the trucks in the motor pool, and the officer in charge told us to just go hang out in your rooms until 1700. Cool beans, I had video games to occupy my time. The next day I go to work and my platoon sergeant asks about the truck.

I told him it was parked, chalked, the drip pan was in place, the air tank strained, etc., and the dispatch was turned in. He then asked if I'd wash the truck. Now, at this point, it was January in South Korea. If you've never been to South Korea, it gets effing cold in the wintertime here. Usually, we didn't see a lot of snow, but we would get ice everywhere. So the conversation went as follows. Michael Tune Sargent asked, did you watch the truck? No, Sargent, it's like 19 degrees Fahrenheit outside. You need to go watch the truck. No, Sargent, it's like 19 degrees Fahrenheit outside.

You need to go watch the truck. Sargent, you do realize that it's below freezing outside right now, right? It's literally freezing out there. Washing the truck would be pointless. I don't recall this being a two-way conversation. Go watch the effing truck, specialist, and take one of your buddies to help. Roger that, Sargent. Cue malicious compliance. So my buddy and I walk over to the motor pool

I start the truck and drive it up next to the bay and walk inside to find my buddy I say hey, man. I need to borrow your little pressure washer. I have to wash my truck We had some back and forth about the outside temperature after which I secure the pressure washer Which was akin to one of those small pressure washers you get from lows and use around your house. After hooking it up, I proceed to spray the truck while my buddy grabs a scrub brush and starts scrubbing the canvas. After about a minute, he yells out to me that the water is freezing on the canvas and brushing it is doing no good.

I shouted back that I was aware and to move back from the truck. I then proceeded to hose down the entire truck. Ha, ha, ha, by the time I was done, the truck looked like a giant ice sculpture. The only thing that I'd left clear was the driver's windshield and window. We then backed the truck off the giant slab of ice that had formed under it and parked it on the back of the line,

locked, chalked, and drip-pant. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, we went back to the shop, tossed the keys on the platoon sergeant's desk, and gave him a hearty, mission complete. The following Monday was motorpool formation day. After we formed up, I hear from across the crowd. Oh my god, O.P. what the hell happened to my truck? I say, well, sergeant, you told me to wash it last Friday, so if I recall correctly, the ice

didn't completely melt until the spring. So considering that people in the military literally have to follow orders, I'm guessing they see a lot of malicious compliance. That was our slash military stories, and if you like this content, check out my Patreon where I publish extra episodes. Also be sure to follow this podcast because I put out new Reddit podcast episodes every single day.