I was 23 when I became a member of the elite group known as the United States Air Force. After basic at Lackland AFB, I went to Sheppard AFB for training in the 291X0 field, Communication Center Specialist.
Do you remember the ropes, red, green and yellow? They were substitute sergeants. One day I ran out of gig slips. I went to the orderly room and picked up a pad thinking I would share them with other airmen. There was always one gig slip under the pillow and one in your fatigue shirt pocket.
Right after I picked up the gig slips, there was an inspection by a rope. I guess he had nothing else to do at that time, so he inspected the troops for the proper shave. He brushed a gig slip across my face and it rattled. He became very agitated and asked the usual question, with the usual amount of DI yelling, “Did you shave this morning?” I replied with a very military yell, “Yes sir!” He then proceeded to call me all the nice things that DIs are permitted to call you. After the butt chewing, he yelled, “Do you have a gig slip?” Again, I replied loudly, “Yes sir!” I reached into my shirt pocket and pulled out the pad and yelled, in a very polite and military manner, “How many do you want, sir?” His face became the same color as his rope, a nice bright red. He took two and I had KP for the upcoming weekend.
I didn’t mind being put on KP. While at Lackland, I learned the best job on KP is keeping the milk dispensers full. The reason I always took that job is because in between filling the dispensers, I would occupy the walk-in cooler and eat ice cream bars, sandwiches or whatever there was there called ice cream.
Because there was no KP after basic and tech school, I showed the Air Force just what I thought of that dumb idea: I left 20 years later.