General Baldwin had barely arrived in the forward area when a sniper's bullet removed a button from his shirt. He threw himself to the ground in terror. The men stood around with the greatest unconcern. The general yelled at a passing sergeant. "Hey, isn't somebody going to kill that damned sniper?" The sergeant looked down at the general and replied: "I guess not, general. We're scared that if we kill him the enemy will replace him with somebody who really knows how to shoot."

A trio of old veterans were bragging and jokes about the heroic exploits of their ancestors one afternoon down at the VFW hall. "My great grandfather, at age 13," one declared proudly, "was a drummer boy at Shiloh." "Mine," boasts another, "went down with Custer at the Battle of Little Big Horn." "I'm the only soldier in my family," confessed vet number three, "but if my great grandfather was living today he'd be the most famous man in the world." "Really? What'd he do?" his friends wanted to know. "Nothing much. But he would be 165 years old."

Chuck Norris had six kids, they were called SEAL TEAM 6.

How do you drown a submarine full of blondes? Knock on the door.

"Where does the Colonel keep his armies?" "Up his sleevies!"