Five retired military members from each of the branches are at the pearly gates, arguing over which branch is more distinguished, and which is favored the most by the Almighty. Each of them, the Navy guy, the Marine, the guy from the Air Force, the old Army guy and the Coastie are all claiming to be God’s favorite.
Finally, they ask St. Peter, who scratches his head and says he will ask God. St. Peter soon returns from the Lord with a handwritten letter:
“Gentlemen,
All of the branches of the United States military are distinguished and serve their own unique purpose. There really is no way to judge which is best for they are all honorable, and filled with the best and brightest of America. So please, enter into heaven, knowing that you have all served your country with honor.
Signed,
God, USN(R), Ret."
The reason the Air Force, Army, Navy and Marines bicker among themselves is that they don't speak the same language.
For instance, take the simple phrase "secure the building."
The Army will post guards around the place.
The Navy will turn out the lights and lock the doors.
The Marines will kill everybody inside and set up a headquarters.
The Air Force will take out a five-year lease with an option to buy.
Actually, when I was in the Navy, they used to call stuff like this "Holiday Routine."
And WE used to say, "Holiday for the officers, routine for the crew"
~and, finally~
Four retired Navy Chief Petty Officers are walking down the street window shopping. Then they turn a corner and see a sign that says "Veterans Bar" over the doorway of an entry into an establishment that doesn't look all that well kept up. They look at each other then go in. On the inside, they realize in this case, they could judge the 'book by its cover'.
The old bartender says in a voice that carries across the room, "Come on in and let me pour one for you! What'll it be, gentlemen?"
There seems to be a fully stocked bar so the men all ask for a martini. In short time the bartender serves up 4 iced martinis - shaken not stirred and says, "That'll be 40 cents, please."
The four Chiefs stare at the bartender for a moment then look at each other - they can't believe their good luck. They pay the 40 cents, finish their martinis and order another round. Again, four excellent martinis are produced with the bartender again saying, "That's 40 more cents, please." They pay the 40 cents but their curiosity is more than they can stand. They've each had two martinis and so far they've spent less than a dollar. Finally one of the men says, "How can you afford to serve martinis as good as these for a dime a piece?"
The bartender replies, "No doubt you've noticed the decor in here. And the outside ain't nothin' to write home about. I don't waste money on that stuff. But, here's my story. I'm a retired Chief Boatswain's Mate and I always wanted to own a bar. Last year I hit the lottery for $45 million and decided to open this place for real veterans. Every drink costs a dime -- wine, liquor, beer, all the same."
"Wow. That's quite a story." says one of the men. The four of them sipped at their martinis and couldn't help but notice three other guys at the end of the bar who didn't have a drink in front of them and hadn't ordered anything the whole time they were there.
One man finished his martini and, gestured at the three at the end of the bar without drinks and asks the bartender, "What's with them?"
The bartender says, "Oh, those are retired Marines. They're waiting for happy hour."
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