tonks said:
i refuse to ever ride in one...ever. they scare the shit out of me. i worked maintenance supply. those things are deathtraps.
Let's now move on to the specifics of surviving a war in Iraq. This only applies to the Coalition of the Awesome or whatever America is called in this war, the Iraqis have no chance of surviving.
Step One: Don't Go Anywhere Near Helicopters
At the time of writing this article the American casualties are somewhere around 25 killed, with a whopping 18 or so of those attributed to helicopter crashes. I'm not much with math and numbers and crazy things like that but I think that's something like 99.9% of the American casualties caused by helicopters. This is in a war, with people shooting at Americans and everything, yet somehow helicopters have been transformed into bloodthirsty murder machines. In fact, not only should you not go anywhere near a helicopter, you should probably put bows on them and drive them over to where the Iraqis are hiding. Then they'll be like "wheee look at this totally radical helicopter" and Saddam will come out on the balcony and say "awesome helicopters" and then Tariq Aziz will emerge from a sewer with the sewer grate balanced comically on his head and say "cowabunga duders!"
Then the entire Iraqi Republican Guard will mount up into the murderous Blackhawks and Apaches and crash them all into the ground and die. Except for Tariq Aziz who will be surfing and possibly "hanging ten".
For some reason the concept of "staying the fuck away from helicopters" seems to be causing a problem for the top brass, who keep insisting that crash-happy choppers get loaded full of elite commandos even though five seconds after liftoff they plummet into a canyon and explode. If you're ordered to get into a helicopter by one of your stupid commanders might I offer some plausible excuses to get you out of gyrodeath.
You contracted HIV from a Kuwaiti male prostitute and your lack of T-cells might cause you to become severely airsick and vomit blood into the mouths of fellow soldiers.
Your attempts to open a can of Vienna sausages that may or may not have been discarded because of botulism was such a disheartening failure that the trauma has left you with shell shock.
Your new age religious beliefs prevent you from rising more than a few feet above sea level or else face eternal torment in the bowels of a hip and alternative hell-like location.
You refuse to ride in a helicopter unless the pilot agrees to fly with the sirens on.
Your aunt was decapitated on the set of the "Twilight Zone" movie and her death has left you mortally afraid of helicopters.
Just grin smugly and say "you chumps ride in that helicopter, I'll use my jetpack." Then when they take off go back into your tent and nap.
Explain slowly and clearly that you are allergic to plummeting to the desert floor and dying in a violent crash or burning to death while trapped in wreckage.
If none of these options work you can attempt to drive the point home by sneaking up to the Brigade commander's tent late at night and chucking grenades inside. If necessary attach notes to the grenades that read "Vote no on Issue 35".
-Something Awful
Nice pics though
