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Upon returning to home station from an 807 mission,
one of the other members
on my crew asked me if I had noticed that Captain So
and So, true to his
reputation, had once again missed EVERY bag drag.
When I replied that I did
indeed notice it, the individual (I'll just call him
'Bill') said that he had a
A few weeks later, 'Bill' and I were scheduled to fly once again with the same pilot. Alone for a few minutes before the crew briefing began, I reminded him of our earlier conversation and asked him if he still had a 'plan'. All he would say was, 'You'll see.' Man, I was dying of curiosity…
Later that night, in the NCO Club at Hickam, I pressed for details once more. 'It starts tomorrow,' was the only answer I got.
The next morning, as we were getting ready to depart for Guam, I finally found out what the plan was and have to admit it was brilliant.
As I was getting ready to tie the bags down, 'Bill' walked over and showed me a small bottle. Looking closely, I saw that it was a bottle of liquid used for paper training puppies. Sprinkle some on a newspaper and the puppy will whiz on it.
Grinning from ear-to-ear, 'Bill' uncapped the bottle and proceeded to squirt a healthy amount all over our slacker pilot's B-4 bag. Seeing the look of awe on my face, 'Bill' winked and said, 'The fun starts at Guam.'
Let me tell you, it was a LONG eight hours until we landed.
Once we blocked in, I took the strap off our bags and spread them out a bit to make it easier for customs and the drug dog. Especially the drug dog…
As we cleared customs, the whole crew was standing as 'Fido' was brought onboard. As its handler started to lead it around the cargo compartment, the dog made a beeline for the pilot's bag. One quick sniff, and up went the leg. It's a good thing I had spread the bags out, since that dog whizzed all over the poor pilot's bag. It took every bit of willpower to keep from busting a gut.
The dog's handler apologized to the pilot, finished the sweep of the airplane, then left.
Needless to say, the bus ride to the Okura was non-stop laughter as the Captain bitched about having to wash his clothes.
Thinking that 'Bill' had had his fun, I assumed that he was finished with his 'plan'. Nope.
Sure enough, on the way to Clark the next day, the B-4 was sprinkled again with the same results, only better...
Mad as hell that the Customs dog had whizzed on his bag AGAIN, the poor Captain had a fit when we got to the hotel. No sooner had the bags been offloaded from the hotel bus, a stray dog came walking by, took a sniff at our bags…and whizzed on his bag.
Two crew rests in a row spent washing his clothes. Poor guy.
I spent that night telling 'Bill' to give the pilot a break. 'Nope, I'm gonna teach him a lesson.'
Well, by the time we got home, that bag had been whizzed on so much that the pilot was forced to participate in the bag drags … no one else would touch his bag.