Note to self. Teach spaceship driving only when several AUs from the nearest obstacle.

Oh yes, “That” student.

Heh heh, that just about sums up the frustration received whilst instructing those with the IQ level of a compact rubber ball.

A quick ‘dit’ on just one of my frustrating evolutions if I may, so pull up a sandbag, settle in, and I’ll swing the lamp.
Setting the scene; At approximately 08:00hrs during a very hot summer morning of 1995. Tregantle 500 metre range at Tregantle Fort, Cornwall (in dear old Blighty!)

As a serving Bootneck, I, amongst others, had the misfortune to instruct a gaggle of serving Jolly Jack Tar’s (RN matelots) on the handling and use of the 7,62mm General Purpose Machine Gun. Under orders from above, each Jolly jack had to be proficient in the weapon system, and cleared for use by 17:00hrs. This would then allow each individual to man a GMPG as part of a ships close weapon defence system, whilst serving in the Gulf.

My first thought was ‘If the Russians can train a monkey to fly into space, then a Royal Marines Commando can train a gaggle of matelots to rattle off a few rounds and hit a target 300 meters away.’ (After all, they had all successfully passed detailed weapon handling skills on the aforementioned GPMG, i.e., identification, strip and assembly, safety, load, unload, immediate action drills, etc, etc.)

At the end of that glorious summer’s day, my thought wandered and pondered over whether the Russian monkey was actually a very hairy bloke, a midget in stature, with an extremely high IQ. The Russians conned the world – again, barstewards!

I digress; After thousands of rounds going down the range, the ‘patch out’ target results were abysmal, as were the handling drills of each individual. Sigh! High velocity short burst firing, combined with the delicious waft of cordite, simply did nothing to arouse these creatures of the sea. Out of pure frustration, my coveted green beret was rung in between my hands, and flung several times that day.

N.B. Having served at sea several times with the Royal Navy, I have to admit I have the upmost respect for who they are, and for what they do. Their skillset is beyond reproach. I say this having served a two-year draft as a ship Sgt Major with a detachment of RM’s.

Did I ever mention the Battle of Naples, Italy. When heavily outnumbered Jolly jack and Royal stood shoulder to shoulder on a run-ashore, and took on a horde of pissed up Italian soccer hooligans? Another day, another dit.

Yours Aye
Ex Bootneck

Funny! Wish I could sleep that soundly.

I am reminded of a classmate on a cleaning detail who was put in charge of a rotary floor buffer. Shiny floors being critical to military readiness, y’know…
It was not unheard of that our lighter members would sometimes attempt to mount and ride the buffer down a hallway. His assigned hallway terminated in a set of stairs spanning 2 or 3 stories.
Our hero was found clinging to his buffer, suspended between floors in the stairwell, anchored only by the power cord which had miraculously remained plugged in.
I sometimes wonder how he managed on a warship.

I’m still dealing with that guy, er, gal. Co-worker whose head is mush-like in content … sigh.

Made me think of Pvt Gleason, the dumbest ass I ever served with. Motor Pool, backing a 5 ton Bridge Truck with a cable spool trailer, he was guiding me. Heard him holler so shut down and dismounted. He was still hollering so I went to the back of the truck. There he stood with his foot under the trailer tire.

I’ll chime in and say not only military or geeks, but wrench-turning and manufacturing too…

I once witnessed a student reach over the correct socket already on a ratchet to grab his favorite pair of vice grips to tighten down a bolt while reassembling a transmission… I came a little unglued.

Then there’s always the trainee that comes along, interrupts a Very Important Instruction to say they have it… then proceed to do their best to ruin X tons of product. My go-to is to let them stroll juuuust close enough to the edge to stare into the abyss of their decision before yanking them back to safer ground.

If I remember rightly, you have this thing called the “Fifth Amendment”.

I might borrow it…