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In a heroic dogfight, fought over international waters off the mainland China coast, a 60s era American-built Lockheed Electra propeller airliner with 24 US Navy passengers/observers aboard chewed up one of China’s best state-of-the-art supersonic fighter aircraft.

The Americans utilizing the infrequently seen combat tactic of straight and level flight, often accomplished by relying solely on auto pilot, engaged the unfortunate single seat combat jet and knocked it out of the air using only one of its four formidable rotating air mass propeller weapons system.

After the action, the crew and passengers/observers dropped in on China’s Hainan Island Resort for some much-deserved R&R as guests of the Chinese government.

An old man saw a very tired infantryman resting after a hard foot march. The man said with disdain: “When I was of your age I thought nothing of a ten-mile hike.”

“Well, I don’t think much of it either,” replied the GI.

Young Amanpreet never quite got over his miserable
childhood as an orphan in the ghetto. When he turned 18 he
joined the Marines, but old habits die hard and one night the
sergeant found him rummaging around the garbage and eating
out of the discarded cans and jars.

“On your free, Lizard Pecker,” he bellowed. “You’ll eat in
the message hall — you’re no better than the rest of us!”

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the skies,
Air defenses were up, with electronic eyes.
Combat pilots were nestled in ready-room beds,
As enemy silhouettes danced in their heads.

Every jet on the apron, each SAM in its tube,
Was triply-redundant, linked to the Blue Cube,
And ELINT and AWACS gave coverage so dense
That nothing that flew could slip through our defense.

When out of the klaxon arose such a clatter
I dashed to the screen to see what was the matter;
I increased the gain and then, quick as a flash,
Fine-adjusted the filters to damp out the hash.

And there found the source of the warning we’d heeded:
An incoming blip, by eight escorts preceded.
“Alert status red!” went the word down the wire,
As we gave every system the codes that meant “FIRE!”

On Aegis! Up Patriot, Phalanx and Hawk,
And scramble our fighters–let’s send the whole flock.
Launch decoys and missiles, use chaff by the yard!
Get the kitchen sink up! Call the National Guard!

They turned toward the target, moved toward it, converged.
Till the tracks on the radar all finally merged,
And the sky was lit up with a demonic light,
As the foe met his fate in the high arctic night.

So we sent out some recon to look for debris,
Yet all that they found, both on land and on sea
Were some toys, a red hat, a charred left leather boot,
Broken sleigh bells, white hair, and a deer’s parachute.

Now it isn’t quite Christmas, with Saint Nick shot down.
There are unhappy kids in each village and town.
For the Spirit of Christmas can’t hope to evade
All the web of defenses we’ve carefully made.

But a crash program’s on: Working hard, night and day,
All the elves are constructing a radar-proof sleigh.

So let’s wait for next Christmas, in cheer and in health,
For the future has hope: Santa’s coming by stealth!

Following some duty overseas, the officers at the Fort were
planning a welcome home party and dance for the unit. Being
an all male combat force, they decided to request coeds from
some of the surrounding colleges to attend.

The Captain called Vassar and was assured by the Dean that
arrangements could be made to send over a dozen of their most
trustworthy students.

The Captain hesitated, then said, “Would it also be possible to
send a dozen or so of the other kind ?”



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