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NOTE: This story involves a certain USAFSS legend commonly known as "Tap." Among other personal traits which we won't be addressing in this story, "Tap" was one of those straight-as-an-arrow, strictly-by-the-rules type of guys. Anyone observed by "Tap" violating even the most minor of procedures was sure to get an on-the-spot lecture. Most assumed that "Tap" himself, obviously devoid of normal human traits like the rest of us, was immune from any possible rule violations. The following story reveals at least one chink in "Tap's" armor.
The Story:
Someone from HQ in San Antonio, in their infinite wisdom, decided that all Airborne Mission Supervisors (AMS's) should be certified in all geographical areas.
Being only one of two Frog (French Linguist) 2-ops at the time, I was flying missions in the western Mediterranean every other week. We would depart from Rhein Main, fly the mission track and recover in Rota, Spain. Then a second mission from Rota would recover back in Germany.
The first AMS in the Barrel was Nate Britt, but that's another story...
Somewhere in the mix, I got "Tap" for his first trip to the West Med. By this time, we had told the Navy, "Thanks, but no thanks," for offering your aircrew quarters (yet another story) and had migrated to a motel in downtown Rota. There was a fairly nice bar and several of us hung out there. The bartender's specialty was "Sangria," made of red wine, orange juice and God knows what other liquor. It was powerful, but tasted like fruit juice.
The last time I saw "Tap," he had traded his flight suit for some woman's wig and was sitting at the bar in his long johns with the wig on.
At about 0500 the next morning, we dragged Tap out of bed, washed him off and got him on the bus.
About 5 seconds after takeoff, he slithered out of his seat and curled up on the floor. We were in the rear compartment, so it had to be a "B Model."
I didn't need him to run the mission anyway, as he knew absolutely nothing about it and I had Butch LaBarre, Rourke, Tadpole and others aboard to watch the spectrum which was usually sparse (an understatement). During one of our briefings, a comment was made about who would carry THE tape (a single reel of 1/4" tape) for both missions and who else got to use it and when. We even came back once with a ZERO Post Mission Flight Report (PMFR).
Anyway, the mission went as usual and about the time we coasted in over France on the way home, "Tap" finally came to. He crawled back in the seat and looked around and asked me where we were. When I told him, he asked about the PMFR. I could have done it. I had flown about 200 missions by then, but I was damned if I would tell him that. So, I told him I didn't know how to do one, and he would have to get it done himself. With much consternation and not a lot of help from the rest of the crew, he put something together.
We never mentioned it and didn't even write him up for a TI (Turdus Ignoramus) award, but I sure never had any more problems with him from then on....