Dogs would get kicked out of the military, for derriere licking off doody.
I deserted from Genghis Khan. I swore I wouldn’t join Mongol Sam’s army.
I was commanded to attend a top secret military party at Area 51. When I got there I received my Martian hors d’oeuvres.
Dropping Fat Man and Little Boy on Hiroshima and Nagasaki was a bomb on nation.
What’s George Bush’s response to thousands of bodies wounded and mutilated in Iraq and Afghanistan?
“Keep surgeon the troops!”
I was reluctant to command a regiment of stinky aliens, but I’d already been given my Martian odours.
In Russia, militant fans of punk music walk around with Clashnikovs. Their enemies fight back with Sex Pistols. At the end of the battle there are loud Ramones of pain. And blood is Ozzying from everywhere.
You got promoted from captain to a higher rank? I bet that major day!
Medieval trebuchets were capable of launching at ’em bombs.
Militarization. Now that’s all arming.