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On the 3rd of January 1961 five of us from Yokota and five from Rhein Main arrived at Goodfellow to attend RC-130 factory training. It was an exciting time to be back in the states. If you were into 60's pop music, Floyd Cramer's 'Last Date' and the Drifter's 'Save the Last Dance For Me' were big hits on the car radio. Our training was scheduled to last for two months. We were very fortunate to have an outstanding instructor by the name of A.C. Williams. He worked for TEMCO, a company located in Greenville, Texas. In the early 50s it had proven itself in the aviation electronics field, and this led to a contract to design equipment for and to modify aircraft for the US government's intelligence operations. Following the factory training the plan was for us to return to our home bases and pass on what we had learned to the others in our units. While the training was unforgettable, two situations happened outside the classroom that even today I vividly recall. The first involved a young lieutenant, and the second me.
One early evening there was a gentle breeze, causing the venetian blinds to make a clattering sound. A young lieutenant, who I latter learned was in charge of the transient barracks, heard the noise and was in the process of checking it out, when he spotted me. I was the only one in the barracks at the time, so he approached and immediately struck up a conversation. The transient barracks was an old, wooden, 2-story WWII building. One side of it partially overlooked the officer's swimming pool. The lieutenant explained that some 'animal' had urinated out of an upstairs window into the swimming pool. At the time there were a number of officers' wives laying around the pool taking in the sun. Apparently they were not too impressed with the actions of the airman. As a result, the lieutenant was called to the commander's office. The commander let the lieutenant know that he was not pleased with what had happened and he 'challenged' the lieutenant to come up with a way to guarantee a similar incident would not happen again. At a loss for words, the lieutenant was unable to supply an acceptable response. As a consequence, he got to spend the rest of the afternoon setting on a chair outside the commander's office, while trying to come up with an idea that would satisfy the commander. The lieutenant told me he felt like he was being punished, in much the same way a little boy who gets in trouble and has to set outside the principal's office. As I was not accustomed to having an officer trust me with his problems, I was not able to provide much help.
One afternoon, as I was exiting the barracks, a flight of NCOs came marching by. I guess they were at Goodfellow to attend the NCO Academy or the NCO Leadership School. I believe its safe to say they did not present the same image you might have of a flight of young airmen out marchingmwhile in basic military training at Lackland. To start with, some of them were overweight. They all had on the high, black, wool socks normally worn under brogans. In this case, though, they were wearing different colored tennis shoes. In addition. they all had on the same style of grayish green gym trucks, a white t-shirt and a floppy, green fatigue hat. I was standing on the steps to the barracks as they came marching by. As they passed, I decided to help them with their cadence by suppling a few hut,2,3,4s. None of them, to include their drill sergeant, said anything or acknowledged my presence in any way. The drill sergeant marched them to a point where the road made a left turn. There, he gave the command 'to the rear march'. As they approached, I got ready to once again help them with their cadence. However, when they were directly alongside where I was standing, the drill sergeant gave the commands to halt and to face to the right. Now they all were looking directly at me. You can guess what followed. The drill sergeant tore me a new you know what! When he was finished, I was pretty sure they didn't need any further help from me with their cadence.
Bob