You know, if you’ve read a couple of my little stories, that I spent several years in the Air Force. Yes, a simple country girl from Iowa lived in a war zone.
In January 1972, I signed in for a new job at the 432 TRW, a fighter and reconnaissance wing at Udorn Royal Thai Force Base in northeastern Thailand. Along with several other intel folks, both men and women, I briefed and debriefed aircrews flying combat missions over Laos and Vietnam. Before heading out to the flight line, the flyers stopped by the intel office for an update on enemy activity in their target area. We intel weenies also gave guidance on what to do in case they were shot down. It was all classified, so that’s all I can tell you, sorry!
Among my co-workers was Steffi, my friend from a couple of previous intel assignments. I guess we had no choice but to be friends with so much in common. But no gold Corvette, no private cars there! We walked, took the base bus, and, once in a while, got a lift by jeep.
Sometimes, Steffi and I were on the same shift, and sometimes not. One night we were both on the midnight shift. Not much air activity, probably due to bad weather; so we weren’t busy. We started chatting. “What do you think of Rick’s pinup?” I asked.
Coworker Rick had recently taped some art on the wall near his desk in the next room. Do you remember Playmates, the less-than-fully-clothed gals from a popular magazine some years ago?
“That playmate he has taped on the wall by his desk? Well, I, for one, am insulted. But most of the guys are OK with it, aren’t they?” Steffi shared my irritation.
“They like it too much. Did you see what Howie is doing now?” Howie was in our office, his desk next to Steffi’s.
Photo by Unknown Wong on Unsplash
“Yes, that stupid wooden message sorter on his desk. And did you see, now he’s taping playmates on all those pigeonholes!”
“Maybe we should do something about all these playmates. I’ve had enough of those.”
All of us gals, and probably a couple of the guys, were irritated by those pictures.
“Did you ever play paper dolls when you were a kid?” Stephanie asked.
“Got it!” I laughed. “I’ll find a scissors. You get some scrap paper.”
What roaring laughter the next morning as Howie, Rick, and the rest of the team, plus guys from other offices, saw Howie’s ‘girls,‘ ’all neatly dressed in lovely paper outfits. And the biggies also got the message. No more nudies!
Score one for the gals!