IT'S FOR THE KIDDIES!!

A short lesson that I have found somehow overlooked by the school system over the last generation. Just for the children, and poorly educated adults.

The Life and Times of Sgt Bilko: Tidbits of Humor

by Sgt Bilko

Oh, how the time, she do fly. So instead of telling a long and detailed story, I decided just to pick a few rather more amusing moments from the Life and Times of Sgt Bilko….

…after never having consumed a frapacchino before, chugging 5 bottles in a row and running thru the ER at 2 a.m. screaming; “It’s BACON!!!!!!!!”

…writing everyone’s nickname on the room assignment board and then having a Mass Casualty occur, which brought in everyone from the hospital commander on down. Try explaining why “Blair Witch” has trauma room 2 and “Phat Paddy” is on the desk when confronted with an angry Colonel at 3 a.m.

…going on an emergency call and having one of the firefighters crawl over your back while you’re administering care. If he hadn’t been wearing his turnout coat, I’m sure I would have fractured his ribs when I elbowed him and growled, “You’re not my boyfriend, get off my back.”

…being asked by a Private, “SGT Bilko, you’re from Alabama, can you teach me how to tie a noose?” and answering “PVT Cruz, you’re from Puerto Rico; can you teach me how to steal a car stereo?”

…being partnered with someone you despise during combatives (where they teach us hand-to-hand combat) and breaking her nose because you decided that UFC rules should apply.

…getting cited by the city cops for popping off rounds from your 9mm pistol and telling the Chain of Command that you’re “a redneck and that’s what we do.”

…telling the Sergeant Major that you’d rather get thrown out of the Army, live in your pickup and be a cook on the night shift at Waffle House than stay under his influence and command.

…chugging three Monster drinks before Physical Training formation and belching so loud the First Sergeant thought the cannon had gone off and called the whole company to attention and saluted.

…while administering the new Flu shots for this year, telling officers that they had the option of having the shot, the Flu Mist, or the Flu suppository.

…pulling up your Enlisted Records Brief and finding out that you’ve been listed as having been at one station (Dwell Time) since 1990. How can you be surprised that the Army thinks you’ve been sitting at one station for 18 years when it takes 6 months to get one simple allotment started?

Next month….either more amusing tidbits as I get ready to finally get OUT of the 3rd Infantry Division and go to a new base or possibly a 3 page rant on being still stuck IN the 3rd Infantry Division.

If this has you smiling, please go to Humor-Blogs and share that smile.
Stumble It!

Army Stories: Smoking Can Be Hazardous

Many years ago in a nasty land far away, I was held against my will in a place called Fort Bliss, Texas. Generally medics are well respected and sometimes even liked, but not always. This is the story of a man at that armpit of a place who didn't like medics. A man who did bad things to them. I know, because I was one.

Our Headquarters Battery First Sergeant was the mean man of whom I spoke. For some reason he didn't like the medical squad I was assigned to. I think he might of had a bad encounter with one at some time in his career. Maybe he was once married to a medic. I didn't know or care and it really didn't matter. The point is, that he went out of his way to make life very difficult for us.

I won't go into the details to all the rather cruel things he did, but suffice it to say that after a year or so of his abuse, I'd had enough.

Several times a year I was sent out to medically cover the 'gas chamber'. This is where students are subjected to the effects of CS (tear) gas. The scenario differs from place to place but the results are the same.

The students, wearing protective masks, are lead into a small building or room where the gas is present. They get a chance to see that a properly fitted mask will protect them from what ever is in the air. Then they have to take it off.

It's actually kind of fun to watch them running blindingly out the far door, tears in their eyes and snot running freely from their noses. I've been gassed on several occasions and should be more sympathetic, but it really is hilarious.



This particular tear gas can either be burned or just sprinkled on the floor. Walking around on it, kicks it up into the air and the desired effect is achieved.

One day I hung around after everyone else was gone. The door to the gas chamber was never locked, why bother. So I put on my mask and gathered up some of the loose powder on the floor. I put it in a plastic bag -for later use.

Smoking was still permitted in government buildings at that time, and my First Sergeant loved to smoke. A few days later I had the chance to exact revenge. When no one was around, I dumped the pilfered tear gas into his almost full ash tray. When he put out his next cigarette, the power ignited and filled his office with choking fumes.

That next morning, at our first formation, he mentioned the incident. While he had no proof as to who did it, he stared at the medics.

The harassment didn't end but it did lessen. I guess he didn't really want to find out what someone might have had planned for next the time. Let's just say that he loved his coffee too and some laxatives are all but tasteless.


Get yourself over to humor-blogs.com and give this post a smilie face, or else.

The Life and Times of Sgt Bilko: Marines Cry Too

By Sgt Bilko

Anyone who’s ever been in the military knows the pecking order between the services. In terms of toughness, it goes: Marines, Army, Navy, and Air Force. And then there’s subcategories, Active, Reserves, National Guard. So when a patient comes in for medical treatment, some medics will treat the patient first by priority of their injury or illness, then by the Toughness Scale of Treatment.

Basically, it works like this: Two patients come in at the exact same time. One is a Marine with a sore throat (more about him later) and a National Guard soldier with a broken arm. Obviously, you take the National Guard dude first, and then help the Marine. Simple, right?

Let me tell you a little story that happened in the Emergency Room at Fort Irwin, CA. Names will be changed to protect the medics from lawsuits.

We had just had shift change and I was headed to the front desk to make sure Phat Paddy (I have nicknames for most of the people I work with) was good to go. On the way up front, while I was still 15 feet behind a closed door, I hear the most God-awful wailing coming from the waiting area. Thinking some poor lady was in full blown labor and was about to deliver right on the front desk and I would have to help clean up the mess, I hurried to the front.

Phat Paddy and Kornfed were both at the desk, looking rather amused. A patient was on one of the gurneys that we keep up front for air medical evacuations, rolling and wailing like someone was jamming a toilet brush down his throat or something. Maybe he was in labor, but I ruled that out pretty quickly by determining that he was a male.

I had to physically look, because the noise and commotion he was creating made me think of a 16 year old rich-bitch drama queen who didn’t get the Mercedes Benz that daddy had promised her. Phat Paddy and Kornfed just shook their heads when I asked what was going on with the patient.

I spoke with the patient and he said that he had a sore throat that was “killing him”.

While inputting his info in the computer, we discovered two things. One, he was an Active Duty Marine officer and Two; he had already been seen earlier in the day and given antibiotics and painkillers.

He was also told that he had Strep throat and it would take a few days for the antibiotics to work and to take the pain meds for his throat. I know having Strep throat is painful, I’ve been through a few bouts myself, but this was something I had never seen or expected to see. Both of my parents were Marine Drill Instructors, so you can imagine my disdain with the situation. And the wailing continued….

Due to the commotion, we bring the Marine with the sore throat to the back for screening. His crying and whining continued while we try to get vital signs and a medical history from this big, 6’3”, 225-pound Marine officer. The nurse on shift (lets call him Russell), had heard the guy hollering and yelling. One thing you have to know is that the floor nurses work a 24-hour shift, while the medics only worked a 12 hour shift. So, Russell had already dealt with this particular patient and was not very sympathetic to his situation, since the patient had not taken his pain meds.

How goofy do you have to be to understand that if you are in pain and have been given something for that pain, it might be prudent to take the drugs? So Russell informed Kornfed and me that he wanted bilateral IVs started, nothing less than an 18 gauge catheter was to be used and that one of us had better miss with the first stick.

We had stuck one of the IV bags in the freezer for about ten minutes before we began sticking because we knew the guy was going to just carry on and on about his pain. We figured we could give him something to take his mind off of his throat and give him something else to worry about.

Being the senior medic, I got to be the one who missed the first stick. I jammed that needle into his arm, dug it around a bit, then admitted I had blown the vein and would have to restick him. Without removing the tourniquet I assembled another IV set. He was bleeding all over the place from my earlier jab, but I went ahead and stuck him properly.

We got the fluid flowing and with some meds jacked into the IV bag, he eventually settled down. Remember, one of the bags had been in the freezer for a bit. After a while, he started cooperating with us and asking for blankets because he was shaking from being cold.

We told him again that he needed to take his prescriptions, he started talking about how he was a Marine and he didn’t need any painkillers, yadda yadda yadda. I asked him that if he was such a tough Marine and could take pain, why was he rolling and caterwauling like a little drama queen all over my gurneys? No answer, of course. We discharged him after the IVs were finished and the doc gave him a stern warning about his drugs and that if he returned within 24 hours for the same complaint, that he (the doc) would admit the patient and have IVs, heart monitors, and a urinary catheter put in.

Seems the thought of having a rubber hose jammed into his, you get the idea, worked wonders for pain control. By the time we discharged him, he was in a hurry to get out of there. And we giggled for the rest of the night.

Oh, and the National Guard soldier with the broken arm? He ended up waiting patiently in the waiting area until we could get him treated.

Sgt Bilko is active duty Army NCO and I’m the retired version. Being a Non-Commissioned Officer in any branch of the service automatically ranks one higher on the not-a-big-pussy scale than any officer in any branch. I may make an exception for those in special ops. If you agree or disagree, we’d really enjoy hearing from you, either in the comment section or by sending in your own funny stories.

Hey take a minute out of your busy day and please vote of this and other funny blogs at Humor-blogs.com

Army Stories: Texas Tea

Spending 20 years in the Army gave me more than a retirement, it gave me a whole slew of funny stories. I plan to re-tell one of these humorous events at a rate of one a month. That should give me enough to last a few years anyway.

My first duty station was Fort Bliss Texas. For those of you who have never had the privilege of living in El Paso, congratulations. But I digress.

I was assigned to an Air Defense Artery Battalion as a medic. Back then our uniforms were starched fatigues, highly polished, black boots and white T-shirts. My field ambulance was the M792 Gama Goat.

I believe its design came from the loser of a third grade “draw a truck” contest. While it did have a unique ability to get across desert better than most vehicles, it was just plain butt ugly. Originally intended as an all-purpose, sort of amphibious vehicle designed around the terrain of Viet Nam, it never actually lived up to its claims. So the Gama Goat got shuffled off to the desert and other less wet stateside climates.

Staff Sergeant Cecil Young was my platoon sergeant. A nice guy but woefully mechanically inept. One cold day, which necessitated the wearing of our clean and highly pressed jackets, he decided he needed to show me how to change my vehicle’s oil. Having grown-up repairing cars, I had a pretty good idea of how to do this, but he insisted.

I drove my Goat up the ramp in the motor pool and positioned it over an open 55 gallon drum, half filled with waste oil. I joined SSG Young under the vehicle.

The Gama Goat was designed more like a boat than a truck. The wheels stuck out through its ‘hull’ and the bottom was a flat plate of metal. To access the engine oil drain plug, one had to unscrew a round plate, which was about five inches or so in diameter and weighed about one and half or two pounds. This process required a socket wrench or a breaker bar. SSG Young demonstrated the technique.

The round plate was directly over the 55 gallon drum. Once the plate was out of the way, the engine oil drain plug could be removed and the oil would flow into the waiting drum.

SSG Young unscrewed the plate but he forgot to perform the next step, which was preventing it from falling into the drum. The plate landed as flat as could be right in the center of the waste oil. After dropping about four feet the plate had picked up a bit of speed. The impact sent oil flying.

I was younger and quicker than SSG Young. He just stood there and watched as the front of his immaculately clean jacket and starched pants got covered in oil.

I didn’t say a thing. Didn’t crack a smile. Good Army discipline.

Undeterred -and without a word spoken between us- he grabbed a wrench and proceeded to “show” me how to put an arm through the now open hole to access the engine oil drain plug. He slowly unscrewed the plug and when it was loose, it dropped past his arm and landed –with less of a splash- into the open drum. After adding insult to injury, the plug had the decency to disappear to the bottom, coming to rest next to its larger cohort.

SSG Young looked at me. I displayed a stone like demeanor, reveling nothing of the fact that I was ready to drop to the ground and roll around laughing until I cried.

It was about this time that he realized his arm was still extended up through the access hole and warm oil from the engine was pouring down the inside of the arm of his jacket.

Slowly he removed his arm. He looked over the ruined jacket, pants and shirt. Still, without a single word spoken between us, he bent over and fished the plate and drain plug out from the bottom of the waste oil barrel. He placed them on the ramp and walked off.

We never spoke of it.

If you have a funny military story, please look over the submission guidelines. If it meets Sideshow Mirrors obviously lax standards, you just might see it here.

If you liked this or any of other post, please head on over to Humor-Blogs.com and vote for this post. It just take a few seconds to sign-up and vote for this and other great humor blogs.
Gama Goat pict: carolinasaviation.org

Dr. Pepper Disrupts ER

This will be a on-going monthly series from an old friend of mine, who possesses a twisted and caustic sense of humor.


The Life and Times of Sgt Bilko


by Sgt Bilko

I am a Soldier who happened to have the luck to have been able to serve with Les James. Make no doubt, he was and is a great person, and I try to emulate what he taught me about being a Noncomissioned Officer.

Anyway, I'd jerked the Chain of Command when it came time for my reenlistment. I'd been working in the Immunization Clinic, going deaf from screaming babies and working until 1900 (7 PM) giving allergy shots and cannot express how much I hated that job without lapsing into such gregarious profanity that would have Les's blog flagged.

So I made an ultimatum that either I could work in the Emergency Room or I would not reenlist. So, they let me work there, and it was the best 18 months of my career. I learned a lot.

Anyway, one day Les was speaking with a new junior NCO, giving him his initial briefing about working in the ER. I and another NCO (we'll call him Roughwhopper) were in that same office. When Roughwhopper took my Dr. Pepper, it started a fight -with kicking and pinching and uses of voices from South Park and Mad TV (that kid Stewart)- and the bottle got shook up a lot. I popped the top and sprayed Roughwhopper with the soda.



While we were yelling and fighting and spraying, Les was calmly standing 5 feet away, informing the newbie about how he expects his NCO's to be professional and take pride in their jobs. There was yelling and cursing and Dr Pepper all over the office, and the newbie still standing at parade rest trying not to bust out laughing.
Next time, I'll tell about the time I was working nights and Les left his official military email open for anyone to see. It involved an email that was allegedly sent to the First Sergeant, Command Sergeant Major and Hospital Commander.

And don't ask Les about how the copier got broken.



Ed Note: Sgt Bilko was not paid for this glowing (but true) accounting of just how wonderful I am. She was a major pain in the ass when she arrived at my ER, but kissing mine has now made up for that.

She is still honorably serving our country with distinction, having just returned from her umpteenth deployment to Iraq. We all need to take a moment to thank her and the 1000s like her.

Any military personnel (current or former) who would like to submit their recollections of humorous events are welcome to check-out Submission in the About Sideshow Mirrors section in the sidebar.

Finally, a chance to vote for something worthwhile. If you liked this, please jump on over to Humor-Blogs.com and vote your conscious.