One of the things I never stopped to consider during the Bicentennial Celebrations in 1976 was that I'd also be around to see the Sesquicentennial Celebration FIFTY YEARS LATER. You know, when you're that young - as in 19 years of age - you really never think about things like that. Hell, you don't even think about things that are going to happen next week, much less fifty years in the future.
But here we are, celebrating the Sesquicentennial, or 250th Anniversary, of the founding of our nation. Man, where did the time go??
Every time I think about the Bicentennial I always think of two things: one of them was the prank I pulled on Amn Suzanne Council at the Main Gate while working a midnight shift on the 4th, and the other is the raising of the American and Bicentennial flags every morning for the entire year.
I'm pretty sure it's the same way now as it was way back then, but in 1976 at Seymour Johnson AFB in Goldsboro, NC the Security Police were responsible for raising the flags in front of Base Headquarters every morning - specifically, the Law Enforcement flights. While this was no big deal with the US flag, as you can see from the picture at the top of this page it wasn't quite that simple with the Bicentennial flag. With the flag being all white, at 0600 hours (that's six AM for you civilians) you really couldn't see which end of the flag was which, and the flashlights we carried at that time weren't anywhere near as bright as the LED monsters we all use today. So at least once a week at 0700 hours the Law Enforcement Desk Sergeant would get a phone call from the Base Commander's office informing the Desk Sergeant that the Bicentennial flag was upside down AGAIN. So right in the middle of all of the activities that usually took place between 0600 and 0700 hours, someone would have to go take the flag down, flip it over, and then put it back up. This was a challenge for us for two reasons: first, shift change took place at 0630 hours, and there was a LOT of stuff that the offgoing flight had to do to prepare. Second, we only had 3 base patrols, and they were all busy doing the end of shift stuff I just mentioned. But one way or another somebody would have to go out and "fix the damned flag again!"
Then one day somebody got a simply brilliant idea, one that was so simple someone should have thought of it long before and one that immediately solved the problem of the Bicentennial flag being raised upside-down.
Somebody spray-painted the top grommet of the flag red. Brilliant, simply brilliant! And it worked like a charm, too! Once that grommet was spray-painted red, that damned flag was never raised upside-down again. The base commander was happy, which meant that our squadron commander was happy, which meant that we were happy. Life was good!
Until some wiseass decided to spray-paint the other grommet red, too.
Do I need to tell you what happened next?
At that point the squadron commander had had enough. He issued an order to the Flight Chiefs that he didn't care what it took or what they had to do, they were to personally ensure that the Bicentennial flag NEVER went up upside-down again. So guess who was on the flag raising detail for the rest of the year? Yep, the Flight Chief! Usually it was the junior patrol that did it, but after Major Quantock issued his order about the flag, the Flight Chiefs thought it would be a very wise idea if they saw to it themselves because they were the ones who were going to be skinned alive if it happened again.
Still makes me chuckle every time I think of this!
So what prank did I pull on Airman Council at the Main Gate? Well, it's like this: the bathroom at the main gate was so narrow that you could touch both side walls without extending your arms all the way, and it was so small that once you sat down on the toilet your knees were only about six or seven inches away from the door. And you had to be careful not to bump into the sink while sitting down and getting up, which made moving around even more difficult.
Well, my flight worked a midnight shift (ten PM to six AM) on July 4/5 of 1976, and I happened to be on base patrol that night. The base patrols spent the quiet hours of the night throwing firecrackers at each other as we passed on the streets, and since back in those days NONE of the Air Force vehicles came with air conditioning we were all driving around with our windows down. Around 2AM or so Suzanne called for a bathroom break, and as the junior patrol I was dispatched to take care of it. At that time females in the Law Enforcement career field were given the option of wearing male uniforms for duty since they were better suited for wearing a gunbelt with, and that's what Suzanne wore. So as soon as the door to the bathroom closed I snuck over and put my ear against the door, listening for the distinctive and unmistakable clinking of the buckle of her uniform belt hitting the floor. When I heard that I pulled a firecracker out of my pocket, put it on the floor in front of the bathroom door, lit the fuse, and then flicked it under the door and into the bathroom.
"OH SHIT! CRAIG, GODDAMN IT!" BANG!
I didn't wait for her to come out. I ran out of the gate house laughing my ass off, getting in my truck and leaving just as she came running out, holding her pants up with one hand and her gunbelt in the other.
Yeah, those were the days!
Happy 4th of July!
