The Liquor Talking

Hopefully, this clears up that nonsense!

During my exile to Incirlik Air Base in Turkey, the base managed to wind up with an abundance of chaplains. So much so, that squadrons as big as ours actually had a chaplain specifically dedicated to us.

I never quite figured out what religion he was. Whatever it was, it seemed to involve drinking lots of sacramental wine and when that ran out, sacramental Scotch.

When I asked how it was that our chaplain was an uber drunk, I was told that he was a highly decorated Vietnam veteran, with some very powerful upstream connections. With but a year to go until mandatory retirement, the brass managed to send him to Incirlik, where he saw to the spiritual needs of a 300+ member cop squadron.

He wasn’t much on telling us how to live or really offering advice of any kind. However, when a troop needed to cut through the red tape for emergency leave, humanitarian transfer or some family hardship, never mind having an angel on your shoulder, this man was like having a Sherman tank on your shoulder.

For instance, one of the young airmen on our flight was having some trouble back home. Rather than bring his young wife to a place like Incirlik, they decided that she would move in with his mom while she finished up college.

Three months into a 15 month assignment, he gets a telegram from his wife. Seems his drunk mom has thrown his wife out. She had no money, no place to go and had moved into a shelter. He took it up the “chain of command” but got stalled out when our commander (for no good reason) claimed that he suspected a scam and demanded proof.

We were sitting around the day room, trying to figure out what to do next, when in staggers our chaplain. Judging from his sombrero and colorful poncho, he’d obviously been into the sacramental tequila.

I’ve never seen anyone go from being a happy drunk to stone-cold sober that fast.

Within minutes of hearing about the airman’s troubles, Chaplain Hawks was on the phone. Ten minutes later, our commander was present and the chaplain and he retired to the latrine. Five minutes after that, our commander was out the door and the chaplain came back. He then told us not to worry any more. He was on this and even if he had to call down fire and brimstone, this was gonna get squared away.

The next morning, the airman was handed emergency travel orders and plane tickets, first for Istanbul, then non-stop to JFK and then to North Carolina. Later that afternoon, the Red Cross volunteers showed up and packed up all his belongings. The NCOIC of supply personally came by to collect the airman’s issued gear.

Within 24 hours of Chaplain Hawks becoming involved, the kid was with his wife and they were on their way to his new assignment at Seymour Johnson Air Force Base, which is in North Carolina.

But Chaplain Hawks could also be a royal pain the keester for the cops he was supposed to shepherd.

Having been expelled from the officer’s club for about the 120th time, the good chaplain went staggering off into the night. It was SOP (Standard Operating Procedure) for the manager of the club to phone the desk sergeant whenever the good chaplain was shoved out the door. The desk sergeant would then dispatch a patrol to locate him and fetch him over to the officer’s quarters.

Otherwise, our beloved chaplain would roam the base, getting into all sorts of mischief.

Tonight however, the manager got distracted and neglected to give us a heads-up.

So it was that Chaplain Hawks wandered out onto the flightline where he encountered a ground crew preparing to receive a C5.

A C5 is a huge, huge cargo plane and at the time, was the biggest thing in the inventory. We had three, sometimes 4 a week come and go.

As the plane touched down, the ground crew asked the chaplain to stay there, by the trucks and to, under no circumstances, go onto the parking area. Once they’d taken their positions, the chaplain spots a spare set of light wands on the seat of a pickup. Thinking they’d forgotten them, he grabs them up and heads out onto the ramp.

Upon seeing the huge aircraft turning onto the ramp, the chaplain decides that he will assist in guiding the thing to its parking spot. He turns on the wands and starts waving them around.

So now the C5 pilot sees two people on the ramp, giving taxi instructions with the wands. One appears to be directing him to a parking spot and the other seems to be indicating that he is to depart the ramp and go back onto the taxiway.

Not knowing what to do, the pilot stops the plane and radios the tower. The tower then radios the ground crew, asking “What the hey?” The crew chief spots the chaplain and sends his guys to get the wands away from him.

Naturally, the chaplain flees. The security desk is called and patrols are sent to look for the guy.

30 minutes later, we get a call from the manager of the Officer’s Club. Hawks is in the parking lot, waiving the light wands around as if trying to direct the people trying to exit the lot.

The chaplain initially refused to go with us, saying that he didn’t want to abandon his post. We finally convince him that we will leave someone there to make sure everyone safely exits the lot. The chaplain is returned to his quarters and all patrols returned to normal.

I later ran into one of the ground crew at the NCO club; “That guy is your chaplain? No wonder the cops on this base are all nuts.”