Three rules

    Johnson’s duty as a novice drill instructor at Fort Jackson, South Carolina, was to escort new recruits to the mess hall.

    After everyone had made it through the chow line, he sat them down and told them: “There are three rules in this mess hall: Shut up! Eat up! Get up!”

    Checking to see that he had everyone’s attention, he asked: “What is the first rule?”

    Much to the amusement of the other instructors, 60 privates yelled in unison, “Shut up, drill sergeant!”

    That’s it

    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.”

    Heroic ancestors

    Three old veterans were bragging and joking about the heroic exploits of their ancestors one afternoon down at the Veterans of Foreign Wars hall.

    “My great grandfather, at age 13,” one declared proudly, “was a drummer boy at Shiloh.”

    “Mine,” boasted another, “went down with Custer at the Battle of Little Big Horn.”

    “I’m the only soldier in my family,” confessed veteran number three, “but if my great grandfather was living today he’d be the most famous man in the world.”

    “Really? What would he do?” his friends wanted to know.

    “Nothing much. But he would be 165 years old.”