HENRY C SACHS

When we first arrived at 1st Radio in Ramstein we were quarantined to the base for thirty days. I assume, to make sure we did not infect the local population with some previously undetected social disease. During this period we were assigned to Work Details, at the Squadron wear house. Mostly busy work move things around, cleaning and straightening things up. One afternoon there was nothing left to move around and we were issued brooms and told to look busy. Dancing with the broom I call it. I was sweeping in an isle back were the AN/TRC antenna boxes were stored when I noted that there was an oddity in the stacking. The boxes were stacked six high in a long row and at about the mid point in the row, there was a spot were the boxes were only two high. On top of the boxes were two Parker's and a pillow. This looked to me like a comfortable and inviting nest. In I crawl, head first, cradling my broom in my arms and fall asleep. Some time later I am rudely awoken by someone pounding on my shoes and yelling for me to "get up, get those Parker's back to were they belong " startled I jump up and come eye to eye with the supply Captain. Returning the Parker's to the supply clerk, Kurt a German civilian employee and explaining were they came from and under what circumstance I was returning them, he almost doubled up laughing. I had invaded the Captains afternoon nap nest.


                                                        CAR STORY
                                                       Part one from Libby Crooks

I received a nice and interesting call from Libby Crooks today. She saw the Picture of the month and she related that it brought back fond memories. The car she told was resurrected from a salvage yard by her Husband Mat and repaired into almost working order. The car was hard to start mornings and Doc Morgan and Otis Tom Keith would stop by to help get it started and have breakfast with the Crooks. Tom is the one in the picture taken at Erdlingen Germany 1953.Libby also related that She checks the web page daily, like many of us has many good memories of our time in First Radio.
                                                   Part two from Otis (Tom) Keith
The Car Story I am sorry dear Libby, but you have the wrong car. Your car was a 1942 six cylinder Ford ex staff car that did require a lot of pushing and unscheduled maintenance from Wily Brown and Frank "Doc" Morgan. For you that never had the pleasure of knowing Matt and Libby Crooks, you certainly missed two great people. I was not only the only one that enjoyed many breakfasts at Libby's table, which was always open for dinners also. Since Libby was the only wife at Falcon 12,( which later became Falcon Control), even though we were all the same age, she was the site mother and it was not uncommon to find six to eight of the site personnel at her table competing in a fried chicken eating contest. I usually won. Libby was also well known for surprise picnics at the site. One time a Maj. Bean from Wiesbaden came to the site while Libby (wearing one of Matt's one piece fatigues) was setting up a picnic. The Maj. seeing Lib said,"I didn't know you had WAFS on these sites". Don Rheinheimer said, "Yes sir, some of the good ones do". The car in the picture is a 1941 Chevrolet abandoned by the owner for a transmission problem and a weak motor. The picture was made at Birkenfeld in 1952. At tech school at Francis E. Warren AFB, Cheyenne, WY, my best friend was Hayward B. "Slick" Summerlin, a Hudson car mechanic from Kosciusko, MS. He was with the 602nd at Birkenfeld while I was on Falcon 10. Slick came to me one day and said he knew where there was a good buy on a Chevrolet. He said the motor is not too good but it runs the problem is the transmission is locked but I can fix that real easy and you can but it for $25.00. We went out and looked at it and it was a sorry looking thing and still was when I sold it, but the motor clanked and knocked and the tires were up. Slick insisted that I buy it so I did. Slick had some wrenches in his pocket and crawled under the car and started throwing parts out. When he finished he got in the car and drove it back to Birkenfeld. In 1941 there weren't very many cars with automatic transmissions so all car makers were trying to find a way for the people who could not coordinate their hands and feet to shift a car without knocking a tooth off a cog. GM came up with what called Vacuum Assist. The theory being that the driver pointed the shift toward the gear he wanted and the vacuum sucked it in. I guess this worked alight for a while but when the car got old the sucking got weak and there was no telling where you would get sucked when your started shifting. Therefore, there were a lot of locked transmissions. It was a simple matter for those in the know to remove the sucker and you then had a standard transmission. At that time there was a wrecked GMC 6x6 truck on Cornbeef, with a brand new motor. Slick said that the truck motor would fit the car and if we had some way to lift it we could swap some dark night. I said that would be no problem, all I had to do was call McVey to bring the A frame truck down from Wiesbaden to move some power units, which we did. In those days' car and truck engines were simple thing, not all that extra junk you find around a motor now days. There was only 6 bolts on the bell housing, two motor mounts, top and bottom radiator hose, gas line and accelerator link and the motor was ready to come out. The night before McVey came down Slick disconnected every thing on both engines so all we had to do was lift and swap which was done in four hours. Slick and I drove that old car all over without any trouble except when I went to the NCO academy in Munich. At Java Junction it wouldn't go into reverse or first gear. I drove it on to Munich and back to Birkendefd without first or reverse. When a backup was needed it had to push it backwards. The engine had a lot of power but wouldn't go too fast. Slick was a good friend. Three years ago I went to Kosciusko but could not find anybody that remembered Slick. I often wonder what happened to him and many others that have made everlasting impressions on our lives. I had that car for a long time until Lt. Rutledge needed some cash money one day when I was at Ramstein and offered his 1947 Ford to me for $600.00. I gave him 60 $10.00 script bills for his Ford. I don't remember what happened to good old Chevy


Let sleeping Dogs lie

                                                                                Lew Knickerbocker

    While on the base station at Toul-Rosiere AFB near Nancy, France, after a hard night on the economy, I was curled up in my bunk like a happy puppy as were 4 other members of the detachment. The colonel commanding the base entered First Radio’s area as part of a base-wide inspection. “Who are these people?” he demanded of his adjutant. The reply came, “They’re First Radio.” Quickly moving his fingers to his lip, “Shhhh…let’s not wake them” whereupon the whole inspection team tiptoed out of the bay. 

That was the best inspection I ever stood.


                                                                             “The Brass Snowball”                           

                                                              Lew Knickerbocker


Back in January, 1959 when First Radio was deactivated, all the site troops were brought back to Ramstein and given busy work at the warehouse/maintenance shop. It had been a snowy January and one afternoon on the way back from the maintenance shop to the billets, the group broke into an impromptu snowball fight.


No one noticed on passing the USAFE headquarters building, a group of officers was coming out the door. No one had a second thought until a hurled missile took off a brass-encrusted barracks hat from one of the officers. Even at that time, I knew that 2 stars outranked 4 stripes. Being senior man in the group, I rushed up to the general, gave my best West Point salute and started to mumble an apology. He looked at me sternly and then smiled. Putting his hand on my shoulder, he said, “Son, thank your lucky stars that I wasn’t a second lieutenant.” Now, that should have been the end of the story…but it wasn’t.


In December 2006, my lady and I took a cruise to Antarctica. On that cruise, we became friends with a retired Air Force F-4 jockey and we swapped war stories. I told him about the snowball and the general. Even before I finished it, he started smirking and then broke into loud laughter. And here’s why – it seems he was in the group of officers exiting USAFE headquarters that day. He remembered parts of the incident so he told me the “rest of the story”. He says after the First Radio group slunk away, the general turned to the other officers and said, “Well, that should get me a few points in heaven.”


Small world, huh?



  Lew Knickerbocker

Back in '58, I was an E-5 site chief at OL-1-63, LeChesne. We had a flight lieutenant who was a complete donkey's ass. One night, sitting in the barroom of Julian Estiez' hotel, I had a little too much cognac and told this fine lieutenant where he could shove it. I was called back to Ramstein to explain my actions to Major Cade, fully expecting an Article 15. All the major said to me was (and this is a quote I'll never forget), "Sergeant, your evaluation of Lt. ?Whoozit? is absolutely correct and I'll have to do something about him."

Now, I've always wondered about Lt. ?Whoozit? He was the lieutenant in charge of Flight One. Anyone know him or have any ideas?

                                              Manny Myrovitch 54-57
It was xmas eve and I and about five others were having some drinks at the NCO club when I notice that my friends girlfriend was sitting alone. I walked over to her and asked her why she was crying. She just broke up with her boyfriend. She was a dependent of one of the officers stationed at Ramstein. I and the rest of us then escorted her back to her house.
    After we left her we started to sing xmas carols.We went from house to house singing xmas carols. Windows opened and everybody just enjoyed the night Officers and enlisted men woke up their children and I as a Jew never saw the emotions that were their that night. It's been over 45 years but I still remember that night.


                                        Manny Myrovitch 54-57
One day I decided to get a three day pass to go to Paris. Unfortunately my friends backed out. Sitting on my bunk that afternoon another friend came in and asked me to join Frenchie and three girls they picked up on the Autobahn.
    When I got into their car the girls started to speak only French. My too buddies (????) said that they only speak French and I can say anything I wanted. I believed them. For about six hours I had a ball. After all my buddies would not lie. Later that day we ended up at a Tavern I started to drink and as I picked up my glass one of the girls looked at me and said "Manny what part of the Bronx did I live in" With that My friend had a great day on me.
    The story did not end. One came from Long Island the other two from
England. They were hitch hiking and needed to go back to Paris. The next day we decided to take them to Paris. We stopped at several sites in Germany and France. The guys at the sites had a great time. When we got to Paris we had little money for gas. We went to the MP's ,they asked to see our Pass. Thank God I had one the other two never had a pass. The MP's just looked at mine and forgot to asked the other two. We then raided the motor pool and stole ten gallons.We got back to Ramstein vie sites along the way. Had a great time.

                                            Henry C Sachs

It was about 2 AM I was working the midnight to 8 Am shift in our semi trailer van. Falcon 14 (Fuchbaugh) ,fall 1954 . The equipment was all working and the troops had come in about an hour earlier from town and went to bed . I felt the urge to relive Myself and left the van and walked about 30 feet to the fence an did what I had to do . The night was clear full of stars and a bit nippy . As I turned to go back to the van I saw it , hovering over the other side of the site . A shimmering disk . Grayish sort of , not moving just hovering . I started to run for the barracks building to wake the guys ,from there beer induced first sleep ,to see the flying saucer when I took another look . To this day I thank My lucky stars that I took that second look . The Moon had not made it's appearance yet but its rays were just breaking the horizon and illuminating the back of Microwave Dish 100 Feet over the site .



Once upon a time there lived two airmen both brave but one especially so!

Once upon a time, two brave airmen righted a serious wrong at Greimerath tavern by subduing all the town bullies in one fell swoop ( a literal swoop). It seems the town's young men resented the army and airforce communications personnel who were stationed on nearby hills. The youth especially resented the Americans when they drank in the town tavern and socialized with the towns frauleins. The town youth had, on occasion, thrown stones at the vehicles of the army and airforce personnel. Tensions were so stressed that the army personnel boycotted the tavern. One night when the two hero airmen closed the neighboring town tavern, they were full of courage and decided to stop at the Greimerath tavern for a last drink of the night. Both heroes were fully aware that the town's toughs would likely be at the tavern in mass. This fact didn't in the least disturb our heroes. On the night in question one airman was piloting a Fiat automobile…the kind that had the front doors opening backwards like the old style 1930 gangster automobiles of America.

As the two heroes departed the neighboring tavern, the streets were iced and very slick and the temperature was freezing. As the two approached the Greimerath tavern. they could see a gang of perhaps 15 young toughs standing outside by the front door because the tavern was closing. The less brave of the two who was piloting the vehicle urged caution about entering the tavern to acquire additional spirits . The braver of the airman casually retorted there was nothing to fear because he would enter and acquire the spirits. After all, he said we are U S airman, not army, and airmen were fearful of nothing.

The street leading to the tavern was cobblestone with a slight rise leading to the front door of the tavern. All the youths were standing as a group arraigned similar to the pins in a bowling alley.

The driver attempted to de-accelerate as he approached the tavern and then out of panic, he forcefully applied the breaks but the street was a glaze of ice and the car slowed only marginally. The chief hero being without fear opened the passenger door and steeped onto the icy street. The car was still moving toward the tavern and with the car door opening backwards, the door naturally struck the hero in the backside, thus propelling him at the same velocity as the automobile. The auto was on a collision course with the gang of youths but suddenly at a distance of approximately 20 feet, the auto encountered a dry patch of cobblestone and because the breaks were still being stoutly applied, the auto stopped suddenly. This sudden stop coupled with the door whip action had the effect of propelling our hero even faster forward until his feet also struck the dry patch and he pitched over. He flew completely over the dry patch, landing on his hands and knees onto another frozen spot of ice where he continued up the incline on a path much like a bowling ball where-upon the hero's head struck a youth about knee-high driving him backwards into another. It looked like a smooth strike with only a hint of a 7-10 split. However, because of the ice, all the youths were knocked from their feet onto the slippery down slope where they rolled and slid down the incline into the bumper of the car. The town toughs never knew what hit them.

Our hero also slid back down the ice to the dry spot muttering entschuldigungzie to the dazed youth as he picked his way through them. He then reentered the auto stating the tavern was closed and that we would have to forgo our drink until later.

For a substantial period thereafter, our hero was feted for his courage by both his former adversaries and friends for such an audacious single handed attack upon such a large group. His bravery terminated all malice between the town toughs and the airman.

Between his adversaries and his airman friends buying beer, our hero went well over three months without spending a penny. The auto driver not being nearly so heroic did bask in the hero's glory and received a few free beers.

postscript : It is sad to say the army being not so brave continued to have trouble with the town toughs.



Henry C Sachs

We were up, had our breakfast and were continuing in our winter lethargy ,when S/SGT Glenn Jones our Site Chief , arrived on the site ,full of energy and announced that it was spring and we were starting on a Site improvement program .
Our Site was Falcon 14 ,1st Radio Relay Squadron, 2nd Communication Group , 12th Air Force . Located on a hill top, a few miles east of the Saarland Border ,as far west as you can get and still be in ,what was then the French Zone of Occupation in West Germany .The hill was known locally as the Fuchsbau .
I had been assigned the previous Fall ,late September ,to help move the operations of the Site from it's temporary location at Erbeskoph were it had been operating for some months while the construction of more permanent buildings ( pre -fab's) and a perimeter fence, were completed .The Site previously had consisted of tents and an equipment van .We were assigned to Birkenfeld for quarters and Meals, At Birkenfeld there was a small Base ran by the 602nd AC&W Squadron ,they also operated there equipment at Erbeskoph .After the move I stayed on as a permanent Radio Repairmen .
A quick dissertation of his plan was followed by the inevitable moans and groans from the labor force .The labor force was Bob Marcum Assistant Site Chief ,Dick Langman Power-Man ,Roy Colwell Radio, Gill Anderson Radio ,Harold Engel Radio ,Bob (Jr.)Kilroy Radio ,Gene Lupo Cook , Art Tower Cook and Me Henry Sachs Radio . The plan was to line the mud that was our parking area with timbers ,to separate it from the mud that was not the parking area .A search of the serounding forest produced enough cut logs to fulfill our needs .The next requirement was top soil , or mud of a different texture . This requirement was fulfilled by Sgt.. Jones negotiating with the Jagermister from Zusch , and agreeing to pay a small tax for as much top soil as we wanted .
We had an uncovered 2&1/2 ton 6x6 ,affectionately known as a duce and a half . Off we went ,four or five of us and our shovels .Sgt.. Jones leading the way, approximately three miles down from the site to the top soil ,the top soil had been scraped into piles back in the 1930's as part of a never completed road building project .We had noticed that the French troops when on maneuvers in the area ,dug there fox holes in these piles .
Now I do not remember how many truck loads we loaded and unloaded , but with just shovels and a work force that was not into aerobic workouts ,I am sure that it wasn't very many . We all agreed that it was enough and probably fearing a mutiny Sgt.. Jones also agreed .
The top soil was spread , raked and seeded and we looking for any reason to have a party, celebrated our grate effort of the last few days of hard work in the usual 1st RR style .
Our efforts were rewarded a few weeks later by a decent crop of nice green grass . It was a nice contrast to the mud .But now we had another problem . We did not have a lawn mower. This lack of equipment was a topic of much debate .We could submit a requisition to Hahn AFB or Birkenfeld AC&W .We were assigned to them for support ,but they demonstrated in the past that they did not want to be bothered with us draining there resources .So We were forced to look out for our selves and became self-reliant and resourceful .This was one of the traits that distinguished the1st RRS, self-reliance .
One of our most resourceful individuals was Dick Langman our power-man ,a real can do and get the job done kind of guy .On a trip to Birkenfeld AC&W, our daily water run , Dick and a companion observed that an Airman was cutting the grass near the PX with a gas powered mower and that Noon chow was just starting .As they observed ,the Airman shut off the mower and left it near were they were parked and went to chow .After some reasoning , "that mower is government property ,We being in the Air force , were government employees , that Airman abandon government property ,its our duty to take charge of that property" . And in the truck it goes . Mower problem solved in the best 1st RR tradition .
After a few weeks of growing and cutting the grass started to look a little anemic and became the new topic of debate .Dick grew up on a dairy farm ,Harold Engel had been an Idaho potato farmer .There diagnoses was that the grass needed fertilizer .Now there was no Home Depot or any home garden center in Germany in the mid 50s that we were aware of ,so the debate centered on were to obtain fertilizer. After some checking and a few calls Dick announced ,"He found just what We need ,Baumholder Army Base has loose fertilizer and they will let us have a truck load".
Dick and a companion head out for Baumholder and a few hours later return with a load of dry grayish material .Having grown up in the City and not recognizing the material a few of us asked what kind of fertilizer is this ? "Why that's Chicken Stuff ,real good fertilizer" . The manure was dry and almost odor free . We set about spreading the manure on the grass and on every other growing green thing on the site .There was a lot of it and we spread it everywhere. We also experienced a rare stretch of three or four days of dry weather .Our farmers assured us that "all we need now is rain and you can watch that grass grow ".
We got rain . And the Chicken Stuff got wet and you could find Falcon 14 from ten miles away just by the smell . The smell was unbelievable and almost unbearable .Dick in his almost squeaky Wisconsin farm boy voice asked "what's the matter with you boys ? Haven't you ever smelled Chicken stuff before"

1stRR mobile site/Stainvill France/I set up on a hill top fussball field. I told the troops that if we got set up by midnight they could get some beer. They came back with our weapons carrier full of booze. to keep the stuff cool, it was placed in rubber laundry bags & stored in our 200 gal water tank trailer, the tank had a sieve to trap leaves and such (who drank water). we got set up two days before other 1stRR mobile units did. our cook Carscadden decided that we should clean out a 12x12 bunker that was a local storage for cow dung. he set up his stove and stuff, placed a 5 gal GI gas can for the stove, on the roof (gravity feed). next day it rained all day, a shavetail lietenant came for inspection, Carscadden was going to make coffee for the Lt in the dung kitchen, the Lt followed to inspect our messing facilities, next thing, was an explosion the Lt slipped in the mud trying to exit our messy facility. Carscadden was laying down the rubber, scrambling over, Lt whatsits back also in a hurry to exit our dinning hall(no one was injured). next thing I knew the Lt wanted to inspect my water tank trailer. he complained that a lot of leafy stuff was floating in the water, and asked if I had put hazeltein tablets in the water, my reply was what are hazeltein tablets (purification pills). the rain was very heavy, we placed our rain coats on the the ground of our pup tents and helmets on the tent poles to keep dry. I had enough of the war time stuff and arranged for us to move in to a local Gasthouse, had a great beer set-up and the food was much better than K-Rations (MRI's) and it was warm, the troops were happy, all was well on the western front.

made me into an honest airmen.
My arrival in Germany winter of 49,Icame into Rhein/Main by air, was trucked with other troops in an open 6x6 truck to the Medieval town of Marburg, located about 60 miles north of Frankfurt, the trip was cold and bumpy, the road was full of bomb holes, I arrived at the ex-Nazi concern, it was a Medieval Castel, I thought to myself that "Count Dracaula lives here", we were issued mattress covers with matresses and told to bed down in the stone covered hallway,I could just hear the storm troopers marching up and down the stone hallway with their boot heals echoing off the stone walls. The roof was missing, from the war and you could look up and see the stares at night, they were big and bright like in Texas, one of my assignments was to march a group of American repatriates that had been found, to and from the mess-hall, a couple of them could speak English, so I selected one of them to call out orders and count cadence and told him that I didn't wont any of that goose stepping crap. so off went to the cadence of "ein Zswi, Ein Zswi" I didn't like that, but you can't have everything you way, besides they were supposed to be Americans.
Next I was assigned guard duty, I had to walk up and down my post, two lengths of barbed wire fence, right angels to each other.The unspoken rule was to shake the fence vigorously before started down the fence line. Each time you would do this, the frauleins on one side of the fence would scatter and the GI's on our side of the fence would scatter, and you would walk your post in a military manor, the Sargeant in charge would come by and shout out, "Post number one report" the reply was, "all goes well at post number one" the one and only time we were allowed in town,we stashed four packs of cigarreties in our socks and stuffed our pockets with chewing gum for the little kids. The cigarettes were sold on the black market, you could get locked up for dealing on the black market. and the MP's at the gate looked us over good, from top to bottom, if they had asked us to take off our hats, four more packs would have fell to the ground. I was a 19 years old the month earlier an Army buck sargeant (three stripes).
The next story will probably be about my arrival at the Bohnhoff (train station) in Wiesbaden Germany and my introduction to the enterprising group called 1st Radio Relay, with troops left over from "Company D 926 Signal Battalion, the 926th hit the beaches of Normandy and flowed with the battle thru France all the way to Germany.I was a high speed radio operator converted radio repairman U.S. Army Signal Corp, my only clam to fame as a radio repairman was in a radio shop back in the States, repairing headsets.




During the winter of 53-54, at Falcon 19 ,Grand France, The weather would get a little nasty at times, and 19 was sitting out in the open, where the wind would get a good huff from whatever direction it cared too, so Wind - Rain- Sleet  or Hail there was nothing to stop it.
It so happens that we were getting our share of snow,and we had a Airman who had a bad case of Hemorrhoids, and of coarce the traditional outside privy , was not his idea of relief.
It so happened the this particular day was his duty day ( go to Chaumont Air Base for supplies -Fuel - Rations etc. ) And while there you would take advantage of a hot shower.( that was the perk of the trip )Anyway while in the shower ,he noticed the toilet seats ,whereby he re-located  one to 19.
Now can you imagine the poor latrine gaurd  explaining  what happened to the seat to the inspector..
Anyway the Airman returns to 19, proudly displaying his accomplishment, and promptly assigned it's place of honor next to the stove in the dayroom. so when nature called, he would grab  this nice warm seat, and make a bee line to the privy, untill one day he slipped on the ice and the seat broke in half. Whereby we told him , we always figured he was half assed  anyway.
God rest your soul Clint.

                                        RAMSTEIN MEMORY

                             DON (SWEDE ) CARSCADDEN

I arrived at Ramstein Christmas 1956 and all the Squadrons had their Christmas Lights on... It was really pretty.. Hard to believe it was Air Force! Snow falling and our bus from Rhein Main pulled up.. and everybody on board was a graduate of Airborne Radar APS 42 and APN70 from Keesler AFB!.. We talked to a Sergeant on board our flight from the States.. we asked him if he knew where APO12 was? He said that's Ramstein/ Landstuhl! Wow!!! "What kind of planes they got"... we asked ... He said "F-86D's Sabres but maybe F-100's Super Sabres! Holy cow ! We got out of the Bus and the Squadron sign said "1st Radio Relay Squadron"!
We started seeing all the previous classes that had graduated from Keesler and they were familiar faces.The mess hall across from the Squadron was something else.. We went in after stowing our stuff in our rooms in the 1stRRS ... and expecting divided metal trays like Keesler.. we pushed our brown tray down the line and we were handed plates of food to put on our tray! Two Army guys in line with us said "They aren't going to believe this back at our outfit!"... We went to our table with tablecloth.. and a German Lady came by and asked if we would like coffee!!
Suddenly a spot light turned on a Christmas tree decorated stage... and a USO Belgium Band played while we ate and they had a very pretty blonde singer... That was our first night at the 1stRRS in Ramstein!

After Christmas the snow didn't stop! But the First Sergeant had us get in buses and we went over roads in the snow surrounded by Fir trees like we have where I live in the Pacific Northwest.. and we came to Firing Range! I was give an M1 Carbine to Qualify.. It was Snowing! Airmen were firing and qualifying... we had no fatigue jacket liners..we were getting cold! It was snowing!.. suddenly it was my turn!...
It was so cold for us just out of Keesler AFB Biloxi Ms... It was snowing! I heard commence firing! Brrrrrr.... it was cold! I fired so fast the first Sergeant said "Cease Firing!" and then he looked at me and said "Pass your weapon to me!"... mmmm I heard him mutter... (I could have sworn it was an M2!) was cold! He handed it back and I qualified.. we went back to Ramstein and got changed from fatigues and into class A's .. and off to the Airmens/NCO club!... Wow another Ramstein memory..


                                          To much cognac

                                                         Hank Hall

       One morning at Muhl Zeusch (I believe) after an evening at the nearest Gasthaus I had plenty of Cognac and awoke very early the next morning. It was bright so I went to work in the Operations Building and became exasperated because no one brought coffee or even offered to help. Finally, I returned to the barracks and upended the cooks bed and asked him what the h--- was going on. He asked me what I meant and I said, "The sun is halfway to midday," and he replied, "Sgt Hall, that's the moon." I cut back on the cognac thereafter and I don't remember if I excused myself. I still don't touch cognac.