“So we meet again airman…at ease.” He said, then after a long pause, as he looked over my papers, he continued, “I see you’re in trouble again, uh.”
That jive ass captain at Travis, he let me go alright, but he put me on report for being late, and it came with me to my new assignment.
“Captain” I tried to explain.
“Look, let’s let it go, you can start a clean slate, but if you get your ass in trouble while you’re here, I’m going to stick it to you.” After a pause he added:
“Yes sir, captain, sir.”
“You’re assigned to the weather station, the lieutenant in charge there will send somebody for you. Probably in the day room now. You’re dismissed.”
‘Sir, where is the day room sir?”
“Ask anybody outside, you’re dismissed.”
I saluted, made my about face, and left his office. I lit a smoke, and asked the first airman, I saw, and he directed me to the day room.
What a day room. It was a swell lounge with rattan sofas; chairs around small round rattam tables with ash trays on them, all scattered about. The place reminded me of scenes from some of those WWII spy movies with Borgart, Wayne, Cagney, and others in South East Asia. There were four pool tables, three color televisions, and a bar where you could get all the cold beer you could handle. All they had was the local Filipino beer, San Miguel, but it was always cold, and didn’t taste too bad. After a while we cultivated a taste for it, we got used to it…we learned to love it.