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Our Junior Mess used to have a beer bong in a glass case called the st fer. The funnel was one of the old steel Commonwealth helmets from the regiment's WWII days. Apparently a previous CO banned it's use after he was informed that the lads used to gather all the garbage cans, sort into teams, and then chug as much beer as possible, then see which team could fill their garbage can with sick the fastest

I, sadly, missed those days as the beer bong was tightly locked up when I joined, but I got the stories.

Two days ago we were all running a few laps around the armory for pt. We ran by the guys from the Armored unit and saw that the captain was inspecting the tanks. Everything seemed normal. He ordered the turret be lowered on one of the tanks so he could inspect it. No less than 7 beer cans and a handfull of cigarette buts fell out onto the ground in front of him.

The look on the faces of the crew was absolutely priceless. The captain ordered them to meet in his office after he finnished the inpection.

We slowed our running pace to see what would happen. They all looked at each other terrified of what might happen.

The 2nd lt. walked his way over to them and said, "Men, bring your kneepads and lots of lubricant." Cheeky buggar.

Does a family members service story count?

Cause then I can use my brother, dad's, grandpa's, and uncles stories.

Golden Eyed Scout wrote:Does a family members service story count?

Cause then I can use my brother, dad's, grandpa's, and uncles stories.

If you got em', we want em.

Alrighty then.

During my brothers basic training, they get taught swimming and water survival. 9Weird for someone in the desert, right?).

The swim instructer is a Vietnam vet with 150 confirmed kills (and thats just with his hands! ) named Vaughn. Now Vaughn's just a little bit off okay.
The first swim class he teaches, he yells at the cadets the dangers of drowning. He then dives into the pool, and demonstrates what drowning looks like. For three minutes, he struggles, then sinks to the bottom.
For another three minutes, he stays there. He then surfaces, and yells at the cadets again.

"Now do you see NUGGETS!? Do you see what drowning looks like!?" (This is just a precursor to this next story to give you some context.)

Now one day, my brother and his platoon are relaxing on base after training. Next thing you know, they hear Vaughn yelling. Some sadistic bastard had given Vaughn a PT class.

He finds one cadet who did something worng, and rides him. Vaughn asks "Do you nuggets hate me yet!?" Some idiot answer "No we don't sir!?"

Vaughn loses it. He orders the platoon to run around the perimeter of the base (some twelve miles if memory serves), twice, then do an entire set of pushups, crunches, the works.

He then repaeats his question. The platoon answer together, "Yes we hate you sir!!" He then smiles, and screams another oder.

'Good. Now get in the pool f**gots!!"