Memories of...Other Craziness

Otto Dieffenbach

On 100’s night, our doolie year, we stuffed a firstie’s room (CS-34) with newspaper. When we were required to clean it up, we filled the trash chute, so . . . we threw in Tom Calhoun, naked. I understand he finally crawled out on the 3rd floor and wound up getting chased across the terrazzo! I can’t remember if he was written up.


Ric Lewallen

Fall semester freshman year – phone in the room. This probably wouldn’t seem like much to the cadets of today, but it was a big deal back then. I had some experience working with telephones in high school. In the Fall semester, I worked in the Amateur Radio Club, having had my amateur radio license when I came to the Academy. They had a class B (one which you could use to make local phone calls by dialing 9) phone in there. My room was one floor above (I was in Nooky Niners) and two half hallways apart. At the corner, there was an airshaft which went between the two floors. I had a girlfriend downtown by then and I was tired of taking grief from the upperclassmen to get to the Amateur Radio Club.

Armed with 2 conductor wire, tape, a phone from my girlfriend, one late weekend night when few were paying attention, I strung the wire and hooked up the phone in my room. I kept it in my bottom desk drawer. Worked great until one night, a Firstie came by. Our desks at this point were facing the windows. Firstie came in quietly, I was on the phone looking out the window. My roomie, Pat Berg, immediately stood at attention (he was on the bed or just paying more attention than I was). Firstie asks, "What is Lewallen doing?" "Talking on the phone, Sir." "TALKING ON THE PHONE???" – which made me realize that someone was in the room with us, hung up and stood at attention. I thought I was dead for sure, but it turns out the Firstie wanted a phone in HIS room and my secret would be safe. I lost my phone and wound up hooking several phones up for Firsties. They were all on the same number, so the availability of the line degraded significantly.


Tony Toich

There was the time in my doolie year when I was personally responsible for the entire Cadet Wing having a string of haircut inspections! I was a doolie in 40th Squadron and I had stopped in Vandenberg Hall to get my weekly haircut. On the way OUT of the barbershop I had the misfortune of running in to our "beloved" Com, B/G Vandenberg, Jr and his aide. After being chewed out for having long hair for about 10 minutes (which seemed like an eternity) they let me go. Fool that I was, I headed back to my squadron instead of getting ANOTHER haircut. By the time I crossed the terrazzo, word had reached the squadron. The AOC, Squadron Commander, and First Sergeant all got a piece of me before the noon meal formation. Of course, there was a Wing-wide haircut inspection that day, (which by the way I passed), and the next day, and the day after that. The following day, I went to the "Cowboy" (I'm sure you remember him) and told him I wanted to look like I got a haircut. Despite all the sound and fury, I never did get written up! I guess long hair was always in the eyes of the beholder.


Hoss Erving

"Best Hairs" story has to go to George Franklin – when his packed down, waxed, stocking-capped, panty-hose-over-the-head 'FRO exploded during an In-Ranks Inspection at the Noon Meal Formation.


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Memories