В чем разница между AF, Army, Navy, and Marines

Украл с Привета… не удержался :blush:


I, (State your name), swear to sign away 4 years of my otherwise mediocre life to the UNITED STATES ARMY because I couldn’t score high enough on the ASVAB to get into the Air Force, I’m not tough enough for the Marines, and the Navy won’t take me because I can’t swim. I will wear camouflage every day and tuck my trousers into my boots because I can’t figure out how to use blousing straps. I promise to wear my uniform 24 hours a day even when I have a date. I will continue to tell myself that I am a fierce killing machine because my Drill Sergeant told me I am, despite the fact that the only action I will see is a court-martial for sexual harassment. I acknowledge the fact that I will make E-8 in my first year of service, and vow to maintain that it is because I scored perfect on my PT test. After completion of my Sexual…er…I mean “Basic Training,” I will attend a different Army school every other month and return knowing less than I did when I left. On my first trip home after Boot Camp, I will walk around like I am cool and propose to my 9th grade sweetheart. I will make my wife stay home because if I let her out she might leave me for a better-looking Air Force guy. Should she leave me twelve times, I will continue to take her back. While at work I will maintain a look of knowledge while getting absolutely nothing accomplished. I will arrive to work every day at 1000 hrs because of morning PT and leave everyday at 1300 to report back to “COMPANY.” I understand that I will undergo no training whatsoever that will help me get a job up! on separation, and will end up working construction with my friends from high school. I will brag to everyone about the Army giving me $30,000 for college, but will be unable to use it because I can’t pass a placement exam. So Help Me God!


I, (State your name), swear to sign away 4 years of my life to the UNITED STATES AIR FORCE because I know I couldn’t hack it in the Army, because the Marines frighten me, and because I am afraid of water over waist-deep. I swear to sit behind a desk. I also swear not to do any form of real exercise, but promise to defend our bike-riding test as a valid form of exercise. I promise to walk around calling everyone by their first name because I find it amusing to annoy the other services. I will have a better quality of life than those around me and will, at all times, be sure to make them aware of that fact. After completion of “Basic Training”, I will be a lean, mean, donut-eating, Lazy-Boy sitting, civilian-wearing-blue-clothes, Chair-borne Ranger. I will believe I am superior to all others and will make an effort to clean the knife before stabbing the next person in the back. I will annoy those around me, and will go home early every day. So Help Me God!


I, Top Gun, in lieu of going to prison, swear to sign away 4 years of my life to the UNITED STATES NAVY, because I want to hang out with Marines without actually having to BE one of them, because I thought the Air Force was too “corporate,” because I didn’t want to actually live in dirt like the Army, and because I thought, “Hey, I like to swim…why not?” I promise to wear clothes that went out of style in 1976 and to have my name stenciled on the butt of every pair of pants I own. I understand that I will be mistaken for the Good Humor Man during summer,! and for Nazi Waffen SS during the winter. I will strive to use a different language than the rest of the English-speaking world, using words like “deck, bulkhead, cover, geedunk, scuttlebutt, scuttle and head,” when I really mean “floor, wall, hat, candy, water fountain, hole in wall and toilet.” I will take great pride in the fact that all Navy acronyms, rank, and insignia, and everything else for that matter, are completely different from the other services and make absolutely no sense whatsoever. I will muster, whatever that is, at 0700 every morning unless I am buddy-buddy with the Chief, in which case I will show up around 0930. I vow to hone my coffee cup-handling skills to the point that I can stand up in a kayak being tossed around in a typhoon, and still not spill a drop. I consent to being promoted and subsequently busted at least twice per fiscal year. I realize that, once selected for Chief, I am required to submit myself to the sick, and quite possibly illegal, whims of my newfound “colleagues.” So Help Me Neptune!


I, (pick a name the police won’t recognize), swear…uhhhh…high-and-tight… grunt… cammies…kill…fix bayonets…charge…slash…dig…burn…blowup…ugh…Air Force women…beer…sailors wives…air strikes…yes SIR!..whiskey…liberty call…salute…Ooorah Gunny…grenades…women…OORAH! So Help Me Chesty PULLER! (thumb print, teeth marks, date)

3 симпатии

А говорят что у нас нет армейского юмора.
Спасибо, Роман!!! :slight_smile:

Супер написано про форму Наци СС зимой для NAVY - так ведь за образец то для формы и брали работы тех самых известных кутюрье, что делали форму в Германии в то время…! :lol: Да и летняя белая местами напоминает старые фильмы про флот Германии. Молодцы - шутники! :lol:

Лишат нас скоро [working blues, working whites and utilities]. С одной стороны хорошо, а то у нас и так дофига юниформы.

Алекс - ты имеешь ввиду вот эту - это когда жена еще только училась на бейсике :


Если добавить другие знаки на форму … у меня стойкие ассоциации с историческими фильмами! :pardon:

Сейчас наши умельцы в фотошопе постараются. :slight_smile:

Прикольно, особенно про маринов.:lol: А кто такой Chesty Puller?