Hey you guys! Just at the age where you're looking at your older brothers looking at an interesting and exciting and mandatory career in the military? Well, tell them the answer to their problems might be in this month's issue of a third-tier Archie comic!
It's time for a very special episode of "The Mad House Glads," as everybody's fourth or fifth-favorite comic book bubblegum pop band is torn asunder, not by the indifference of the general public, but by the olive-drab clad, pointing-fingers hand of the United States Army.
At one point Clyde Didit was a zany hippie-type cipher featured in walk-on gags or as Mad House Comics' fakey Alfred E Neuman. When contrived rock bands became the fashion, Clyde cleaned up his act and became part of the Mad House house band, The Glads, along with his brothers Dippy, Dick, and Dan (note: if YOUR Dick is Dippy, see a doctor). But in the early 1970s, young men Clyde's age were getting drafted and sent off to the war in Vietnam. You might have heard about it, it was kind of a big deal. Anything starring draft-age young men was having to at least pretend to address why their characters weren't suddenly knee-deep in the boonies taking fire from Charlie while wishing they were back in the hooch or on that big freedom bird back to the world, leafing through their glossary of Vietnam War era slang. Now DO YOU MIND GETTING ON THAT TRUCK, PRIVATE DIDIT? We have twelve pages to get through!
I gotta say this is the WORST Uber ride EVER. ONE STAR
Not quite sure about Army Reserve regulations, but I'm pretty sure they don't just hand recruits the truck keys and say "take her away!"
Sure, Clyde. You can say you joined the Reserves for the college money. You can say whatever you want. However, everybody knows you're... how shall we say it... there's a draft happening, and you're dodging it.
Here in America we have the freedom to protest and complain, which is why you shouldn't protest and complain!
"I don't dig wars" is something Clyde probably should have thought about before joining an organization that exists primarily for that whole "war" thing.
Here's where Clyde regrets blowing his last civilian paycheck on that groovy mod haircut from the new men's stylist place across the street from the blacklight poster shop (this is 1971)!
It's important to really over-write those devastating put-downs. The more tangled the verbiage, the better!
The old "hippies frightened by haircuts" thing, it never gets old. Well, enough laughs, let's get down to some army training, sir!
350 yards effective range for the M1 Carbine is... optimistic? I'm not saying you won't get a bullet that far. I'm just saying it going where you intended it to go is probably not gonna happen.
You're not interested in learning different methods to do away with your fellow man? Then may I reiterate that you are in THE ABSOLUTE WRONG PLACE.
Can you get conscientious objector status AFTER you volunteer? Asking for a friend
Is this the first hippie Sarge has ever met? This CAN'T be the first hippie he's ever met.
"You want me to roll oil drums with BRICKS? How is that even supposed to work?"
Can you call it "fragging" if it's not in a combat zone and if oil drums are used instead of a grenade? Those guys in the truck want to know.
Well, I read through Army Regulation 40-501 (Standards of Medical Fitness), and it sure looks to me like SOMEBODY is getting a medical discharge! Congratulations, Private Didit. If you survive.
The sudden shift from "army comedy" to "workplace safety film" was subtle but effective. Don't be like Didit and Sarge, use approved drum handling equipment at all times!
I am a little alarmed that an Army base - a place jam packed with equipment designed to penetrate, detonate, lacerate, vaporize, crush, and immolate human flesh - is so skimpy in the medical department that they have to outsource the treatment of some bruises and a simple fracture.
Thinking back to Sarge's "this isn't the Girl Scouts" comment, we now see proof of his statement. Girl Scouts know how to splint properly, and this here ain't it.
Now that he was saved from being crushed by poor workplace safety practices, Sarge realizes that maybe this "respect for human life" thing has its benefits!
"The hell you will Sarge, this is my golden ticket out of the Army Reserve and the Selective Service system entirely. VA benefits here I come!"
And no, you didn't miss anything with regards to "Johnny Marching Home." At no point in this story does anyone march anywhere. I guess they couldn't find a military-themed song title that involved verbal abuse and easily preventable workplace accidents?
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