February 2004                                                            The Megaphone                                                                   Page 7


Soup Story

by David Stout

             

While I was working as a KC-135 pilot during the Viet Nam War, most missions flown were for the purpose of refueling fighters and bombers making strikes against the enemy. Occasionally, my crew would get assigned a mission to go to Guam and pick up a load of passengers (approximately 90-100) and take them to Okinawa, Clark Air Force Base in the Philippines, or to Thailand.  Most of the time there would be 1-3 nurses on such trips, going to the war zone to serve their time there.

You need to know that our crew members always carried in our bags various sorts of food that we could eat in the event we arrived at a place in the middle of the night and needed to eat. A KC-135 is NOT your typical commercial airplane with all the luxuries and comforts we've all grown to know and love. All of our crew members carried various kinds of Campbell's soup, caned meat and fish, cookies, etc., for such occasions when we got hungry in flight or on the ground.

Usually, somewhere along the way while flying over the warm areas of the Pacific Ocean, we would encounter thunder storms or an occasional typhoon that we would either fly around or go up near 50,000 feet altitude to fly over most of it. Such weather would usually produce some turbulence. Because of our dire need to break up the boredom on such long flights, if we did not encounter any turbulence, we would just take the plane off autopilot and generate some of our own turbulence, especially if we knew that there was a female nurse on board and where she was sitting.

Here's what would happen. Either I or the other pilot would turn up the heat and do whatever was necessary to get into a sweat and red in the face. The boom operator would then go get the nurse and bring her to the cockpit. If I were the one supposing to be getting sick, I would appear to be hot, sweaty, and nauseated. I would groan to the nurse that the last meal I had on the ground was not digesting well and that my stomach was rumbling and giving me cramps. I would ask her if she had something with her that might calm things. Most of the time the nurses didn't have anything.  Occasionally a nurse would have something. If so, I would pretend to take it - just fake it and put the tablet in a pocket.

After about ten minutes the boom operator would go and get the nurse again. While he was doing that, the other pilot would open a can of Campbell's vegetable soup and pour about half the can into a paper coffee cup and keep it hid. When the nurse would come to me in the cockpit, I would pretend to be in abdominal pain and really nauseated. I'd ask if she had any ideas on how I could obtain relief at such a critical time. The nurses would always say at this point that they didn't have any suggestions. Some were rather matter of fact while others really seemed concerned, feeling bad that they didn't know what to do to help.

Meanwhile, on this second trip to the cockpit, I would begin to act like I felt the contents of my stomach were about to come up. I would ask the navigator to quickly hand me a coffee cup and ask the nurse to quickly go behind the cockpit to a tissue dispenser and grab some tissue for me. While she stepped out of the cockpit, I would take the half filled cup of concentrated Campbell's vegetable soup and smear a bit of it on my chin, around the top of the cup and a bit of a splash on on my flight suit. When the nurse returned with the tissue, I would take a wad of it and wipe my face with one hand while the other was holding the cup of soup concentrate. As soon as I wiped myself off and took a big breath and stated that I was feeling a bit better. I would notice the cup of concentrated soup in my other hand which the nurse would surely suppose it to be vomit. About that time I would look at the other pilot and hand the cup of concentrated veggie soup to him, at which time he would excitedly exclaim that "Gee whiz, this still looks good" and he would put the cup to his mouth and drink the soup in the cup."

The result was that over 4 of 7 nurses we played that prank on got sick almost on the spot, requiring some container, which we conveniently had under the navigators table. We all got a good laugh from it. A couple of times we just could not keep our laughs to ourselves until the nurse exited the cockpit and would burst out laughing while she was trying to get over her own
nauseas reaction. Needless to say, these couple of nurses were mad enough to do whatever it took to get even, but nobody ever did.

That is one of several pranks and jokes we would occasionally do for a bit of fun on those long flights in spite of the tensions of war.

Submitted by . . .
David Stout '60
Whispering Pines, North Carolina


Hoosier Hospitality

by Karen (Stine) Hollies

 

  Although we had lived in many states, we had always called Elwood "home."

  I was not born in Indiana, but moved there early enough in my childhood that I always say I am from Indiana. Elwood was home to my parents--the place where they grew up. 
      

  Whenever I say I am from Indiana, the response is very predictable and never fails to please me.  "I was in Indiana. The people there are good people--very friendly." What is it about the state that makes us "Hoosiers" so open and hospitable?


  My guess is that the area was settled by people who brought with them a sense of neighborliness and spirits that welcomed both friends and strangers alike. The Germans have a word for it, but I would slaughter the spelling should I try to put it to paper. It means a warm and hospitable welcome. The Irish and Welsh are known for their love of a good party while the English always displayed proper manners.


  We, fellow Dennites, were fortunate enough to grow up in that open, caring, era where neighbors truly looked after neighbors...."kinder, gentler times," if you will. People felt free to drop by and were always offered refreshments. It was a way of life that stuck.

 

  Years ago, a friend from New York City told me that she thought Hoosiers were putting her on until she got to know me. She explained that she had known two before she met me and could not believe how friendly they were. Growing up in the Bronx, she was not accustomed to such behavior. Isn't that a shame? We accept this gift without a second thought.


  It was an eye-opener for me, and I find that I always agree with those complimenting Hoosiers. "Yes. They're good people."

Submitted by . . . 
Karen (Stine) Hollies'54
Virginia Beach, VA


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