The L. T. was green,
And equally mean,
Full of swagger and bluster,
And all the authority he could muster.
Bold in command,
This brash little man,
Who strode all around
Like he owned the damn ground--
Barking orders and spittle,
Never regarding how little
Regard in which he was held.
It was the midnight shift,
And L. T. in a tiff,
Cause his coffee had run out.
The L. T. with a shout,
Demanded a fresh pot be made--
No matter if the deployment was delayed.
In stepped the Sergeant broad and tall,
Striding to the Lieutenant who suddenly seemed small.
“The troops have a duty to move this line.
Your coffee can wait--this ain’t the time.
“And never raise your voice to one of mine.”
The Sergeant stared a moment then turned on a dime,
And made himself a cup of joe taking his sweet ass time
Been in the army for years
Devoted and committed
Sergeant Keys is a born Leader
His Army Soldiers understand
Base after Base at his command
Tough at Exercise drills
Be all you can be to fulfill
Preparation for an uncertain battle
Sergeant Keys Soldiers to mold
Discipline in being told
The Army Uniform in taking pride
Life living guide
It was a sacrifice moving up the ranks
Yet Sergeant Keys gives the army thanks
The Army wasn’t easy
For good reason, in order to become a true Sergeant, one must be able and deserving for the task
After all, the Army is devoted into turning Soldiers into courageous men
Chosen and enabled
Must be victorious
Sergeant Key being the Commanding figure
Army Uniform picture perfect
Sergeant Keys having the right leverage
The stance
Followed by Salute
We could not get sergeant wolf to smile or swear
We were annoying and threw thing at him through the air
He did not lose his temper or even look our way
I found out he has eighteen grand-wolves later that day.
I guess you have eighteen grand-wolves I said to him later.
He started to smile, and his teeth were large like a gator.
I think I liked him better when he did not look or move.
Got to go! I lied, as I sidled away with my usual groove.
As a hurting song is being sung,
At a white polo shirt is flung
What can have been a cow’s dung
And on same it foully clung
And on a nearby face hung;
All a hurried indiscreet challenge
By one refusing to change,
As though it is beyond his range,
The idea pointblank strange
Or one’s denial of a sweet orange!
At last, the fastest arrangement for a detergent,
Lest victim should arrange his brother sergeant…
“Once again, the quick-to-burst temper
Proving it can with a lot tamper.
The first sergeant saw that the new recruit
Definitely was not very astute
He told him to get the donkey d---
Cause the truck needed some oil slick
The buck private went laughing on mute
My grandson told me that sometimes in the military the men won't understand or remember what they are told so this type of tactic is used to get their attention. LOL
daughters drill sergeant
was nicknamed mother Russia
sons disneyland
Sergeant Schmo was chef in an Army mess.
He excelled in concocting S.O.S.,
But troops preferred M.R.E.s,
They were very hard to please!
Don't know what S.O.S. is? Take a guess!
(P.S.: Ask a veteran nearest you what S.O.S. is - the answer will astound you!)
SERGEANT COOPER AND OFFICER HOUND
Cooper was a trooper
Who was a Sergeant?
He had a dog that ate all his donuts
While on the beat, those busy streets
Officer Hound, (the dog)
Left his poop on the ground
Alas! Poor Sergeant Cooper
Had to use a new pooper-scooper
9/18/18
Written by James Edward Lee Sr. ©2018
How I'd relish standing Obama at a brace and show him how to salute!
He's shown zero respect to the Marines and I suppose he thinks he's cute.
No one salutes with a coffee cup in hand, not even the rawest, dumbest recruit!
Should a soldier, sailor, airman or marine do such, he'd suffer the toe of a boot!
He's been seen on camera saluting the flag with his left hand over his chest;
With hands over his crotch or no salute at all with neither hand on his breast.
If the president is interested in gaining the respect of those who keep us free,
I'd volunteer to teach him the rudiments of saluting as learned by this old retiree!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved
One of our brave marines languishes in a Tijuana jail,
Sufferin' inhumane treatment, sans the right of bail!
Ain't it ironic that America treats illegals like welcome guests,
While our "neighbors" to the south treat our folks like inferior pests!
If I was runnin' things here is what I would damn well do:
I'd send in Seal Team Six to teach those thugs a thing or two!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved
Limerick croisés : Once a loud-mouthed Sergeant-Major
Once a loud-mouthed Sergeant-Major
Joined Cold Stream Guards to troop colour
He kept wondering why
He heard not himself cry
Until he took bearskin helmet off ear!
So he left the Lilywhites Guards
To lounge around the ‘Frisco bards
Beats made him bleat poems
Sans use of micro-phones:
What he heard made him rejoin Guards!
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
One day while marching
on the road to madness
I fell in love with a woman
known as sadness,
she rode up on the shore
glazed in sapphire honey,
knowing no mercy
slapping the land,
forgiveness in her thought,
studed destruction in her hand,
our wit and sheilds calashing,
the battle a draw - together -
we as one collapsing to the sand,
we engaged in hot behavior
but the game was always in her favor -
J.A.B. %
I'll always remember Granpa Shreeves
No collar,braces and rolled up sleeves,
Leather buckled trouser belt;
Number forty-six with Gran he dwelt.
A curled up moustache,
His manner stiff and harsh;
Horse artillery in a younger day
A shilling a day his rate of pay.
His hens roamed at the end of the patch
Each day free to root and scratch;
Collecting eggs from his homemade coop
His aging back acquired a stoop.
Fresh,brown and range free
Daily for breakfast or tea;
He killed a chicken as a special treat,
Plucking now a forgotten feat.
A waist-coated old stager
Known to all as the Sargeant Major;
Old fashioned,a bit of a tartar-
Made my Gran a domestic martyr.
Sergeant!
SIR.
As you were.
We must take hill 43.
Air strike,
First.
Then the worst.
You'll lose half your company.
Cooper, Johnson,
O'Riely, Smith.
Another Mission;
This is OUR fifth.
Charge! said Sarge.
And charge We did.
Into a living HELL.
Death the only smell.
Should Company B forget this place.
There lies O'Riely, without a face.
Coopers' leg still on the hill.
He feels the pain in that leg; still.
The Bravest one of all.
Sergeant Farhnom, Five foot tall.
Carrying wounded to a safety trench.
Back and forth, through a deadly stench.
Dedicated to Sergeant Stephen Farhnom and Viet Nam Vets.
Inspired by Amy Green's Contest " Choose One, Have Fun " Subject " The Vietnam War "
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