Hat Tip: Garry Hamilton
This is just too good not to share. You may not agree with me, but I think it is cool, funny and priceless. I realize nuclear armageddon is not humorous by any means – especially with the tyrant we have in the White House – but come on! This is on a par with Monster Hunter International.
My First Nuclear “Strike”
One way to fend off those symptoms is humor. Early in my tour, I was startled out of the rack by a playful commander who had triggered the fire alarm, cut the lights and figured out how to make the capsule sway back and forth on the heavy chains that anchored it to the ceiling. My training told me that these conditions were indications of a nuclear strike.
To my colleague’s eternal amusement, I sprinted around the capsule in a pair of polka-dotted boxer shorts trying to simultaneously restore command over the system and nurse the banged head that happened when I was jolted from a pleasant sleep.
Though tedious, missile duty is not without perks. The uniform regulations are relaxed, though not by design. Once the blast door thuds shut and a crew is free from the prying eyes of the public or enlisted personnel topside, out come the pajamas and hooded sweatshirts.
In a favorite missileer uniform patch (right), the Grim Reaper sits at an ICBM console, dressed in bunny slippers. In the real world, death wears a campus T-shirt, JCrew bottoms and the ubiquitous Snuggie. The silly blanket-robe hybrid is suited to the missile force, keeping an officer toasty while allowing him to interact with the weapons console unobstructed.
Laughter is the best way to not let the horrendous news of the day cave you in. I admire these soldiers and their sense of humor. All cue: “It’s the end of the world and I feel fine…”