This one was told to me by my father.
When he was in for his "diensplig" (Lit mandatory military service) it was about 1966/67.
In those days getting "revved" and "okgefok" (fucked up - basically PT and "makierie pas" drills until you threw up) was par for the course, and his intake experience was no different.
(I am unsure if the event he told me happened on the actual first or second day)
So, parts of South Africa has a red fine dusty soil we call "rooi grond", (red ground/soil). In Middelburg where I grew up 4SAI was known for this, but I don't think that's where my dad had his intake.
Nevertheless, near the end of their day of being "opgefok", their drill instructor lined them up on one end of the dusty red parade ground.
They were all nearing the end of their ability to even stand upright. On the other end of the parade ground a bunch of armored vehicles and trucks have been driven around by a bunch of troops who my dad and his hapless cohorts considered the luckiest summabiznes around.
While my dad's troep was crawling through the dust the other troep was driving trucks and practicing how to park them. While my dads group was jogging in place with hands over their heads being hollered at to lift their knees "even more higher" (if you know you know) the other troep was getting instruction on something in the shade cast by a troop carrier.
It was unfair as heck, if anyone wanted to know.
Eventually they found themselves at parade rest, gulping for air and doing their best not to blink at the stinging sweat dribbling into their eyes. On the other end of the parade ground the troep that was dilly-dallying around the vehicles were dismissed and marched off to barracks. No doubt for some easy peasy detail while my dad's troep woild continue tp be tortured.
After a few moments of angrily pacing up and down while giving the, the stink eye their instructor piped up:
"Julle moffies is seker lekker moeg!" (You faggots are probably tired?) [Note to the reader, this was 1960's South Africa and "moffie" was as much a gay slur as a term for softies. Apologies if this offends.]
By now they knew better than to answer.
"Julle wonder seker oor die gelukkige wenners daaikant?" (You are probably wondering about the lucky guys over there?)
"Wie van julle het al julle lisensies?" (Which of you already have your licenses?)
HOPE SPRANG FORTH ANEW! About a third of them eagerly affirmed. Although he also had his drivers (and a heavy vehicle no less) license, my father hoped to be selected for medic and stayed put.
"SIEN JULLE DAARDIE VOERTUIE?!" (Do you see those vehicles?!)
By now the fortunate ones with licenses eagerly nodded their heads in affirmation.
"Rrrrraaitou! Julle sonder lisensies gaan wag vir my by die eetsaal!" (Righto! You lot without licenses go wait at the kitchen!)
A moment of dramatic pause.
"Julle met die lisensies!" (You lot with licenses!)
"GAAN WAS HULLE!!" (Go and wash them!)
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