(I preface this by saying that I am not SPC Schwartz)
When in the Army...
My squadmates, bunkmates, etc. are not pants nazis.
Imitating an enraged Tyrannosaurus is not allowed (hold your hands next to your chest and flail your tiny, useless forearms while screaming "REEEEE!!!!") while on duty.
My rifle is not 'my precccciouuuuuussss'
I may not lick my rifle.
I may not drive 200KPH (roughly 125MPH) on the expressway, even if the locals are doing it.
I may not merge across four lanes of traffic at 200KPH, dodging tractor trailer rigs and local nationals, to make my exit even if that IS customary practice for local nationals and the sergeant did not bring a map and does not know where we would wind up if we missed our exit.
I may not become inspired by Skippy's List, even if people keep sending it to me.
Even if my sergeants send it to me.
Stupid troops are not: Expendable, sniper bait, meat shields, carrying extra ammunition to be retrieved postmortem, a potential food supply.
Stupid troops are not: All of the above, in order.
We do not send our battle buddies through doorways first to check for traps.
I may not consume half a pound of fudge while on duty.
Officers are not 'future frags'.
I should not answer the door naked to make people stop calling me back to the office while I am off-duty.
It doesn't work, anyway. They will only send the lowest-ranking soldier present to fetch me.
Hiding in the dayroom in a different barracks will not prevent them from calling me back to the office.
Even if the barracks belongs to a different unit, and they can't get in without knowing someone in that unit.
Leaving post will only slow them down. They will not have the problem fixed by the time I get back.
Even though they had the same training I did.
In fact, I should not bother trying to escape my fate. The only thing that my co-workers will ever learn is my next hiding spot.
.......but then I eventually got out of the Army!
I've had a few jobs since. They've all been pretty boring. None of them lasted more than a few months, so nobody ever really bothered to tell me I wasn't allowed to do something.
When in the Army...
My squadmates, bunkmates, etc. are not pants nazis.
Imitating an enraged Tyrannosaurus is not allowed (hold your hands next to your chest and flail your tiny, useless forearms while screaming "REEEEE!!!!") while on duty.
My rifle is not 'my precccciouuuuuussss'
I may not lick my rifle.
I may not drive 200KPH (roughly 125MPH) on the expressway, even if the locals are doing it.
I may not merge across four lanes of traffic at 200KPH, dodging tractor trailer rigs and local nationals, to make my exit even if that IS customary practice for local nationals and the sergeant did not bring a map and does not know where we would wind up if we missed our exit.
I may not become inspired by Skippy's List, even if people keep sending it to me.
Even if my sergeants send it to me.
Stupid troops are not: Expendable, sniper bait, meat shields, carrying extra ammunition to be retrieved postmortem, a potential food supply.
Stupid troops are not: All of the above, in order.
We do not send our battle buddies through doorways first to check for traps.
I may not consume half a pound of fudge while on duty.
Officers are not 'future frags'.
I should not answer the door naked to make people stop calling me back to the office while I am off-duty.
It doesn't work, anyway. They will only send the lowest-ranking soldier present to fetch me.
Hiding in the dayroom in a different barracks will not prevent them from calling me back to the office.
Even if the barracks belongs to a different unit, and they can't get in without knowing someone in that unit.
Leaving post will only slow them down. They will not have the problem fixed by the time I get back.
Even though they had the same training I did.
In fact, I should not bother trying to escape my fate. The only thing that my co-workers will ever learn is my next hiding spot.
.......but then I eventually got out of the Army!
I've had a few jobs since. They've all been pretty boring. None of them lasted more than a few months, so nobody ever really bothered to tell me I wasn't allowed to do something.
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