What is your funniest salute story?

Mine was not a salute, but rather a chow hall blunder. First morning of basic at Ft. Ord we were to identify as RA, US, ER, etc. followed by a "sir.". I sang out "US.". The DI shouted at the top of his lungs "US WHAT!!". As my brain raced for anything I sang out "US Army?". He went just about nuts as I slunk away.

I had groceries in my right arm when I rounded the cornor and the Chaplin appeared. I gave him a nice left handed salute and he never said anything just saluted
back.

According to US Navy uniform regulations, Navy personnel assigned to Marine Corps units may
wear USMC uniforms, which was my case. In Iraq, I was saluted first by an army soldier.
He looked like he was fresh out of training, like me. Was he an officer? I saluted him back anyways. Other day, I get saluted again. But why? I was a bit worried about
I realized that they confused my E-2 collar insignia for that of an O-3 officer!

Mine was when I was in AIT and I was walking down the side walk. I see the Company Commander and one of my Drill SGT's approaching me at the same time. All of a sudden I start thinking what do I do...do I salute or go to parade rest. I was overthinking but had a decision to make and make it fast. I thought Drill SGT certainly has more power than the Commander, I mean they are constantly around. So I said at ease and assumed the parade rest position. Needless to say my Drill SGT was like are you serious PVT??? You gonna disrespect my Commander like that!!! My Drill SGT tell me to Get down and he apologizes to the Commander. The story spread like wild-fire and any Drill SGT I came in contact with would tell me Get Down and proceed to tell me how screwed up I was.

Back, many years ago now, I was in my high school Navy JROTC program and back in those days we were flown on military aircraft and this time we went to Norfolk Navy Base as one of our trips. At this time, again-many years ago now, I was a cadet Ensign so I had a butter bar on one side of my collar and the JROTC on the opposite.
We were visiting a PX on base and I came walking out and ran into a young (well, older than me) Seaman rushing into the PX. He saw the gold bar and the gold on the cover and shot the quickest scarred salute I have ever seen! I saluted back and continued on but it was freaking hilarious and a source of terrific stories, like here.

I was a junior Chaplain in a group of personnel newly assigned to the Garrison Chapel. There was even a new secretary, so we were all learning the ins and outs of the building. One lunchtime, we decided to figure out what a mysterious cabinet in the main office area held. We pried the door open and figured out that it was an electronic bell system. I sent one of the Soldiers outside to listen if it would work while we put in a CD and started one of the tracks. The parking lot outside was also for a Child Development Center and Bowling Alley, so very busy that lunchtime. We looked out the window to see all activity stopped and everyone in the lot confusingly saluting toward our office. Turns out we had put on the National Anthem!

I was drafted in 1960 just after receiving an MBA in Finance and Accounting, so naturally after completing Basic I was sent to 2nd-8-weeks training as a Clerk/Typists rather than going to Finance school. I then shipped out to Korea (post cease-fire, fortunately) for duty as Company Clerk for a forward Missile company near the DMZ. While walking across the Pacific (on guard duty on a troop ship) my orders were changed and I was shipped to Seoul to be a clerk in the 8th Army AG office, which was fine with me. However, in a "welcome aboard" visit with the 1st SGT I mentioned my degree and H immediately got my orders changed so I became an auditor in the 8th Army Controller's, thereby finally getting me to where I could make use of my education. The "salute" part of this tale came about because I often went out to field locations with Sgt. Sam (the guy I worked for), riding shotgun in
a staff sedan which he drove because I did not have an Army driver's license. Sam soon began telling people I was the most-saluted private in the Army because when soldiers along the road saw a guy with no stripes being driven in a sedan driven a Sgt. First Class they automatically protected themselves by saluting (and, when we were in 7th Cav. territory, also loudly shouting "Gary Owen, Sir".)

While serving in Vietnam I was in crypto voice security unit in Saigon. Every morning we had to change the keying material in all the crypto units so all senior military officers could communicate with the President as well as all other officers and other leaders attached to the war effort. One morning I was in General Westmorland's office, I had been there many times and noticed he had 4 or 5 caps with 4 stars as well as his airborn insignia on his desk. This morning I decided to try on one of his caps with the 4 stars on it. As I was opening the safe containing the crypto material I heard a noise and I looked up to find the General watching me. I came to attention and saluted him. He returned the salute and said "stick with it son and you just might make it. As I apologized he just laughed and said have a good day son.

I was very proud of my salute, ram rod straight from elbow to fingertip to barely touching the brim of my hat and my shoulder to elbow was perfectly parallel to the ground. Because of my above average height and arm length of 38-inches, a poorly rendered salute would be more noticeable so I practiced a lot. As a young medical corpsman at the 93rd Evac Hospital in Vietnam in 1970, I was walking the covered outdoor walkway between medical units. In those days smoking was very prevalent and every other supporting post had a butt-can (half full of water hanging from a nail, and, usually, two days worth of cigarette butts). The can was high enough on the pole to use it but not look into its unsanitary cargo. This day I didn't realize the group walking toward me was the Commanding Officer escorting a visiting General until it was almost too late to salute. I quickly nervously but still expertly executed my salute and they returned it as we passed one another - my elbow hit the, for me, the shoulder height butt-can and knocked it off the pole. It came crashing down and erupted in a vertical spray of cigarette butts and dark dirty water. This mini Old-Faithful geyser barely missed the two officers as they didn't break stride but I believe I heard a slight chuckle. Cleaning up the mess was not pleasant but it would have been much worse if I had embarrassed my Commanding Officer!

I was working as the Training and Operations NCO at my last unit located on Fort Belvoir. Everyone else was out of the office for lunch and I was just relaxing while reading some news articles. Then I heard this strange clanging before a newly assigned soldier wearing a combination of medieval chain and plate mail armor armed with a pike and double-edged long sword (sheathed) approached my desk. He snapped to attention, saluted, handed me his orders. He stated “I am reporting for duty sir! Is thou who will keepith record of my humble attendance and service!?”
I replied “In a manner of speaking yes. However, you do know that this year’s ‘full battle rattle’ is BDUs, LBE, and K-pot?” He said “With all due respect sir! That would be out of character on this day!” I said “Ok Lancelot…” He interjected “Sir! I am not Lancelot, I am Lord Galgamire!” I said “My apologies Lord Galgamire. However, we are on duty and your orders indicate your name is Specialist Heber.” He replied “Sir! Are you ordering me to be out of character!?” I said “For your sake, I suppose I am. You have about 15 minutes before the commander and first sergeant return and I am willing to forget this interaction occurred.”
He said “Dost thou know I made this armor myself!? Would your Lords not be impressed by my skilled craftsmanship?!”
My response “I’m not sure impressed is the word I would use Specialist Heber. My advice to you is to get out of here now and report back in this century’s uniform before they confiscate your weapons and armor and lock you in the hospital or brig.” He said “Your counsel is most wise! I shall depart immediately!”
He came back about 45 minutes later in the uniform prescribed on the training calendar and introduced him to the commander and first sergeant without informing them of what had occurred. A few months later he was kicked out of the ‘School’ for failing grades. Apparently, he would rush through the tests and often sat in the back of the room reading Dungeon Master Guide books. The school NCO then suggested that I knew something was amiss with him. I smiled and said “Well, people deserve a second chance every now and then.” He said, “Fair enough” and we parted ways.