Freddy K's Blog-Off

Sweetie (Sweet Pea) our PWD

2011-07-30T10:30:00.000-07:00

Sweetie: April 2000 - July 2011.
Yesterday, we sadly put down our Portuguese Water Dog, Sweetie. We'd like to think that she is now playing with Monty her Golden Retriever buddy (who predeceased her 6 months ago), as they did when they were in their prime.
Here's a photo tribute...

Sweetie's Parents

Playing with 10 month old Monty, when she first came home

Christmas Time

Being attentive

Being playful

She liked cuddles...

Comfort, couches, and being up high (even getting onto counters, the fridge & into the oven door - until I installed child locks!).

And she loved swimming, in the pool, at the beach, or in a kiddie pool

When she was young, she thought she was a flower & curled up in pots. Water me & I'll grow!

Walks were great anytime of year! Especially in winter when you have your coats & boots on!

Or when you are dressed-up for special occasions.

She liked school & was a graduate...

Beds, loungers, and chairs were good to curl up on...

She enjoyed company when they came calling...

She adored Monty...

And tolerated the new kid, Precious, even though she was sick & hurting at the end.

400 Sqn at CWH

2011-07-23T14:33:00.000-07:00

July 23/11, ten men came out to chew the fat at the Canadian Warplane Heritage in Hamilton and then had a few beer St the 447 Wing of the RCAFA. Here's the evidence...

My old 400 Squadron Air Force website

2011-07-13T15:03:00.000-07:00

I only have a handful of followers at this Blog. But I do know that the occasional visitor drops in to check out what's going on. Perhaps even a few folks aim their browser at this address just to monitor my subversive activities!

In any case, thanks for visiting to all.

As mentioned in an earlier post, my old website Freddy K's Unofficial 400 Squadron Webpages is alive and well in cyberspace even though Yahoo closed all the GeoCities sites in 2009. So for those interested in how it looked in 2002, click the link below.

My memoirs probably pissed off a few back then but I only had one or two negative feedback. Most appreciated the nostalgia.

http://www.reocities.com/squadron400/

Bill Bishop is working on a new site. Standby for an announcement. I've been working with Bill on a multi-media version of my On Guard series of stories which contain photos, songs, videos, etc to enhance the text. Bill has suggested an audiobook version and the completion of my last chapter, but this will have to be a winter project.

Riding in Lou's Dune Buggy

2011-07-13T14:42:00.001-07:00

A ride in Lou's buggy around downtown Grimsby.

Hamilton Air Show is back!

2011-06-17T05:03:00.000-07:00

Freddy K in the cockpit of a CF-100 "Clunk" at the Hamilton International Airshow, 1977.

After a 10 year hiatus, the Hamilton Air Show returns to the skies this Father's Day Weekend! I rejoiced at the news sometime ago that the show was returning. During my Air Force days about 30 years ago, we attended a number of air shows both officially & un-officially & the Hamilton one was a regular event for me. I [particularly liked visiting the Air Force Club at Mount Hope on the day before the show started to have a few beers, a sausage on a bun, look again at the various memorabilia inside the Club, but mostly to watch the various aircraft practice their routines for the show the following days - all without the large crowds or admission charge!

Thought of repeating the tradition today but with a young pup at home & the price of gas these days, easier to stay home & reminisce!

But if you can go this weekend, by all means do so! We've seen the warbirds of the CWH so many times it isn't new for us.

1981 - One Last Action Packed Year

2011-06-17T04:30:00.000-07:00

Below is a reprint of a chapter from my Air Force memoirs.

"ON GUARD"
By Fred Kuzyk. Copyright 2001-2002, Freddy The K Communications. No reproduction without permission.

1981 - One Last Action Packed Year

"Oh Lord, it's hard to be humble-(Hungarian)
When you're perfect in every way
I just have to look in the mirror
I get better looking each day
To know me is to love me-(blow me)
I must be a hell of a man (stud)
Oh Lord, it's hard to be humble-(Hungarian)
But we're doing the best that we can!"
-Lyric from "It's Hard To Be Humble", a popular period country tune, with our own alterations.

Sometime in January, the business of flying recommenced after the holiday stand-down. We got our first Kiowas then but we still retained the Otters. Winter saw a few annual rituals. Dinghy Drill & Winter Ops are two that come to mind.

Dinghy Drill

I only remember attending one of these. We'd meet at an indoor pool one evening. Donning our bathing suits & Mae West's, we'd do laps. I found it tiring to swim any distance with the inflated PFD on. We'd also inflate the dinghies & flop in & around them. It was supposed to be a serious exercise designed to save our lives if we had to ditch in water, particularly for Otter float operations. But it was more like an evening of splashing around, having fun, and dunking or splashing each other.

Winter Ops

We made annual weekend trips to Camp Borden with Otters fitted with skis. Unlike the Weapons Shoot where we were bused in, for this trip we flew. The pilots got experience with take-offs & landings on skis in snowy fields. All of us got some practice with working "in the field" in cold weather. Parkas, boots, mitts, & toques were required. We'd struggle with installing covers on the engine & the wings of the planes. If it snowed, we'd clean it off. I believe we also got rudimentary instruction in de-icing, as well as the use of APUs & heaters to start the aircraft after a cold night. I don't remember much else about Borden, other than eating at a fast food annex. We must have drunk at a Mess but I don't recall.

Winter Survival

We were offered the opportunity to go on a Winter Survival Course somewhere in Alberta. I declined the chance to pit myself against nature, deciding that freezing & starving for a week or two didn't sound like a fun time. But a few folks signed-up. I guess they didn't have anything better to do or welcomed the chance to test their endurance. Tony Cardoni was one of the intrepid souls. I asked her how it went when she returned. She wasn't impressed. Actually, it was hell. She thought it would mostly be theory. Instead, they were deposited miles from anywhere, with no food. They were given tents for shelter & snares for game. Whatever they caught - that's all they ate! Tony had a chocolate bar in her gear. They confiscated it. She found she's have to build a fire for warmth & to melt snow for drinking water. Her group eventually snared a squirrel but she couldn't bring herself around to eating it. She came back weaker & thinner. If the producers of the "Survivor" TV show ever decide to stage a contest in the far north, there are some CAF vets that may have an edge on the competition.

SAR Standby

For some time, the squadrons kept a vigil on weekend nights, mostly in the good weather. It was thought that in case a local Search And Rescue should occur on those nights, we'd be ready. A crew was designated to man a single Otter. They were given a room at the barracks. If the call came, they had a key for the hangar. They'd open the doors, tow the plane out & fire it up. They were to remain sober on the base. Somehow, I doubt that was always the case! I never did SAR Standby duty. The practice was discontinued long before the Otters were phased out. I suppose that a single plane, available only those couple of nights, wasn't much benefit to the Rescue Co-ordination Center in Trenton. I also guess that for the crews that did it, they felt they had done something worthwhile, even if the call never came.

Bet You Can't

My birthday was in January. I tried to keep this quiet but the Orderly Room had the data on everyone's birthday, so there was no escape from a new ritual. Dave & Stephanie Hellyer initiated this. They had a huge glass, shaped like an oversize brandy snifter, which had "Bet You Can't" printed on it. They began to bring this artifact, a sort of 400 Squadron Holy Grail, to the Mess on member's birthdays. A collection was taken up for the "Birthday Boy" and sufficient beer was purchased to fill it. The vessel held about nine bottles or so. The object was to stay there & finish it. There wasn't a strict time limit to complete this feat, but your mates encouraged you to do this as quickly as possible. If you tried to make an escape, you were dragged back to the table.

I recall Dave Cooper taking his turn at the glass. It wasn't a pretty sight when he was crawling on all fours in the bathroom, after being sick. It is slightly sadistic to delight in making one of your co-workers barf. While it may have been great fun egging on others during their turn, it wasn't so great when it was yours. I completed the task but with just dregs left in the glass, I was concerned about creating backwash back into it! Sitting there in the "snake pit" my vision was getting fuzzy. Knowlton Nash, the new News Anchor for the CBC's National News was on the TV, but I couldn't make out what he was saying. It was a challenge just to stay in my chair. I must have hurled. Of course, I felt terrible the next day. Somehow, I recall when it was Cam's birthday; he not only emptied the chalice, but also looked for those present to donate more! Maybe this is just bad memory on my part? Anyway, I noticed that those that survived the ordeal once usually made themselves scarce around the time of their next birthday, or just refused to be shamed into another session. I wonder if this tradition continues? As keeper of the glass, it may have ended when Hellyer quit. Or perhaps someone dropped it during his or her drunken stupor - a tradition ending instantly with the myriad shards of glass cascading across the Mess floor.

The Banshee

The restoration of our Banshee fighter was an ongoing project during my tenure. This continued pretty much year round, but mostly during the winter, as the mood allowed. I do remember helping out on a few nights. Dougy Wilkins was our leader during that time. I think I had found a magazine that had an article & photos on the plane, which I had brought along with my enthusiasm to the crew. I had also seen the movie "The Bridges at Toko Ri", the Korean War flick that had Banshees in it. William Holden & Mickey Rooney both died at the end of that movie. This might be symbolic, because our Banshee appeared to be suffering a slow death, at the rate we were going.

My impression after awhile was that Dougy was far too meticulous. Anal, even. It seemed to me that he was trying to restore it as if it would be put back into service flying at Mach 1. It was just going on static display. It seemed that every fleck of paint had to be carefully removed without scratching the surface. Every dent & ding had to be filled with DEVCON, aluminum filler that wasn't the easiest to work with. I thought plastic body filler, Bondo, would do the same job quickly & easily. Who could tell once it was painted? Doug was adamant that everything had to be done just right. I didn't have the patience or 13 years to spare. I said "good night" to the Banshee. My time was better spent on my cars.

Skiing Weekends

We did a lot of things together as a group. Even when it wasn't official, there were group outings, like the ski weekends in Collingwood. Andy Gyorffy & Joanne Pilsener organized a couple of them. They rented a large chalet in Tyrolian Village at Blue Mountain. One of those large ones with several bedrooms, 3 baths, and a sauna. Right at the foot of the mountain, it was a great place to party & we packed the place. Some of the people didn't even come to ski. One year, I brought my new Fender electric guitar & amp. Cam & Ken Mills brought instruments. Joe Grinch played guitar & took a turn. We had a hootenanny. Stereo equipment was also brought along. I recall singing along with the Blues Brothers soundtrack album, "What do you want for nothing, Rrrrrubber biscuit"! And of course, there was heavy drinking. We downed shots of tequila. First licking salt from the pocket where your thumb met your index finger. Then downing the booze in a gulp. Followed by sucking on the slice of lemon. I believe someone brought a blender for rounds of exotic cocktails.

Dave Hellyer passed out on a couch while clutching a booze bottle to his chest. He was totally unconscious. We took this golden opportunity to paint his face with cosmetics donated by the ladies. Someone suggested black balling him but we didn't go that far. In the morning there were hangovers during the communal breakfast. Then we hit the slopes.

There were wineskins to top-us-up while riding or waiting for the lifts. Chip Ray was hurting. He was a good skier but far too drunk to show his stuff. He puked at one point while in line for a lift! I thought it was funny how some of the young ladies like Ronnie Swift or Gigi Cooper had all the latest equipment & expensive outfits, even if this was their first time skiing. I guess it's not how good you are but how good you look! A pair of jeans worked for me. Anyway, no one broke his or her necks.

In the evening, we broke off into groups & went to various restaurants in town for supper. Cam, Dot, and I went to the same spot. Dot drove while Cam & I toked. While driving back to the chalet, we passed a cemetery. I saw something above one of the tombstones. Not quite sure what it was. It looked like a strobe light or some bright flash of light. Cam happened to see something too. We're both looking back as we whiz by. We look at each other. "Did you see that"? "Did you"? "What the hell was that? Looked like a strobe light". "On a cross. I don't know. It wasn't lightning." "It's winter, for Christ's sake". "Christ's…sake"? "Do,Do,Do,Do" (Twilight Zone style). At this point, we laugh uncontrollably. And then break into our Exorcist voices. Dot didn't see anything. Either we two have seen unexplained phenomena or we're both having the same hallucination. Dorothy thinks we're just stoned. For years, Cam & I would remind each other about the eerie gravestone. Meanwhile, there was more partying to do at the chalet.

It was inevitable that there would be some romantic encounters on such trips. Colin & Gigi were doing heavy necking. Andy & Joanne were a couple. Dave Cooper & Ronnie Swift were pretty close there, I believe. I didn't have any liaisons but Cam got more than his share. His favourite spot was the sauna for a late night rendezvous. He gloated that he & Terry Hall met there to make their own heat. When he got back to bed, he had nothing left for his girlfriend. Cam recounted how Terry was discreet about it. He liked that. It may have been at this ski weekend, or at another venue, that Cam popped the cherry of a young lady whom was new to the unit. She was also discreet, not expecting to be his girlfriend or clinging to him. At times I was jealous of Cam. Sometimes he was like the deli counter at Shopsy's - he had them lining up to take a number!

The ski trips ended. Andy & Joanne broke up. Maybe no one stepped forward to take their place at organizing them. Then again, after a couple maybe it was enough. After all, you could get similar partying on a squadron trip or at Summer Camp, without the chalet rental costs. And the government paid your salary while you were there! I'm suprized though that someone didn't arrange a White Water Rafting trip of the Ottawa River. They were popular then & it would have been a logical summer excursion. Then again, someone would have drowned.

Getting Their Wings

Paul Tulio was a good-natured kid. He was code named "McGarett" at Chatham. A muscular Italian & a nice guy. He & his 411 Squadron mate Graham Poole (both of whom I first met at North Bay in 1979) applied for Aircrew Selection and were in the process of becoming pilots. I recall Paul asking me for help with his resume & required English essay, given that I was Joe College & an "artsy", while we were both working on B Class for the RSU. I was pleased to help. They both were accepted & left Downsview for their training. Later, Paul became the stuff of legend when the jet he was flying had a bird strike to the engine, which caused a compressor failure. He walked away from that one. Paul dropped in one time with a transient aircraft while I was on duty. He was still the same pleasant guy.

Also ran into Graham sometime after they left. He was the quieter & more serious of the two. He had adopted the cocky confidence of an Officer Cadet. When speaking about Paul's near fatal accident he stated, "When you have candidates with superior flying abilities of Paul & myself…" or some BS to that effect. Yep, attitude is everything! Today I wonder how their pilot careers went? In 1981, I still had some time to apply for pilot training before I was too old. But I had heard how tough it was & I put it on hold. Something I didn't know at the time was that if you had actual pilot experience, you had a major advantage over the bulk of the candidates. I also knew the drill - RCAF history & traditions. My vision was 20/20 then. I should have given it a shot, as I'll never know if I had the right stuff. But I also had seen what some of the bases were like and was starting to have reservations. Besides, I was in a comfortable groove here in the Reserve. There was talk of the "short-short" flying program being resurrected to train new pilots on choppers. I could do that! I'd also apply to become an Officer in the Squadron. If that young jerk, Tim Olds, from 411 could be selected as an Officer Cadet, certainly I could achieve the same at 400. I put a lot of faith in the Reserve & things didn't go as I hoped.

Flyboy Porn Star?

A typical night at the Mess. Someone has brought a civvy buddy along. The fellow introduces himself. Let's call him John. Rather than throwing darts or playing shuffleboard, John would rather see the action at the Thursday Night Disco. The DJ is spinning some of the popular songs of the time, like The King's "Switching to Glide", the B-52's "Rock Lobster", and Boney M's "Ra Ra Rasputin". Willie Morris & the girls are doing the line dance, The Slush. Just a typical night.

I talk with our guest. John is currently a film student at Ryerson Poly Technical. Cool. We have something in common & I talk about film at York. He tells me that he makes porn films on the side, as a means to pay for the education. This suddenly gets very interesting! He states that there's great money in it & there's no shortage of good-looking female talent willing to appear in those films. I guess it's easy enough to get game strippers or call girls. Perhaps even thrill-seeking co-eds that need the money. He says the difficulty is finding guys. I'm surprised at this. I would have thought there would be tons of guys willing to be PAID to screw hot women in a fuck film. Sure there are many that fantasize about it but most are shy about being caught on camera.

So, John starts making the pitch to me to consider it. I'd be a natural, he figures. An acting student who is tall & not bad looking - I could make some serious coin with him. He's got me intrigued & I have a load of questions. "Those studs seems to go on for hours. I can't last that long. And I don't have a monster dick". He replies, "the shoots are done in numerous takes. To keep you hard for the next take we've got 'fluff girls' who give great head & they keep sucking you. They'll make you cum for the cum-shot. Nah, you don't have to be a freak like John Holmes. Guys feel inadequate when they see a lot of mutants like him. There's plenty of average size dicks. We use stand-ins sometimes for the close-ups. On some angles, you can't tell it's somebody else's dick. Hey, a couple of times I've gotten from behind the camera & took a turn fucking the star actress. And whatever your favourite kink is, we could work that into the script. You should consider it, OK?"

It's an interesting prospect. Lots of upside: money, getting off with beauties, kink, and 15 minutes of fame. The downside is that the film could come back to haunt me. Early porn movies didn't hurt Sylvester Stalone's later career. But I wanted to be an Officer. And later on, such a film could cost me a future marriage, or damage a political career (like I would ever be Prime Minister). And after that near brush of VD with Kinky Sue, I'm wondering about the cleanliness of some of the starlets. It seems everybody fucks 'em, even the cameraman/producer! I don't know this guy at all. Maybe they're really making a snuff film. Freddy blows his load then gets his brains blown out.

In the end, caution wins out over horny fantasy. I tell John that it's not for me. My acting would remain extra parts on the King of Kensington or auditions for commercials. Even he didn't want to be recognized in these films. He gives me a phone number in case I re-consider. He finishes with, "You see, that's the problem. Guys want to fuck, but they want it in private with no evidence. Shit, every guy wants to watch porn, but not star in it. Meanwhile, I can get plenty of broads who want to be exhibitionists in front of a camera. Go figure"

He sure sounded legitimate. I wonder if he recruited anyone else on base? If so, it was a secret. I'd lost his phone number. Never saw him again. In time, I'd forget his name & who his Reserve friend was that brought him to the Mess that night. But I always recall his frank conversation & my chance to have been the "Flyboy Sex Star". Still, it would have been neat to have done a "Mile High Club" Otter orgy scene… "Mr. DeMille, I'm ready for my close-up".

Military Funeral

I started back working full-time with the 2RSU on February 9, 1981. Felt good to be with the RSU again. Got another room at the shack. One weekday, Dick Balls was putting together people for a special detail. The family of a war veteran requested military pallbearers for his funeral in Hamilton, and it was granted. Toronto was the closest base. This was my hometown. I knew the funeral home, so I was volunteered. About seven of us got our dress uniforms together, got into one of those green, nine-person CAF vans & headed down the QEW to Steel Town.

The service was fairly short. There weren't many people in attendance. We stood at attention at the appropriate time, picked-up the casket, carried it out the door & loaded into the hearse, waiting in the sunshine. That was it. For whatever reason, we weren't required at the hearse's final destination. The widow thanked us for our presence & said that her husband was proud of his service in the Navy. What difference did it make that airmen carried this sailor to rest? All the services wore green at this time & looked the same. Having done our duty ahead of schedule, I believe I took my RSU companions to a local strip bar called Hanrahan's, for a couple of beers before making the return trip to Downsview.

Myrtle Beach, Here We Come!

A wonderful opportunity came-up during March 18-22. Two Otters (9404 & 3671) were being flown to the air base at Myrtle Beach, South Carolina - with room for passengers. Officially, the trip was for the purpose of practicing IFR approaches. In reality, the Officers were invited to a Mess dinner. We "extra baggage" would have nothing to do, other than party! I was one of the chosen in the mix of Reservists & RSUs. Andy & I were in the same plane (9404) flown by Captain Don Eddie. (This was the same plane that was up in King William Island in the NWT during 1977, to help search for the ships of the Franklin Expedition). I recall that to avoid bad weather, we climbed to about twelve thousand feet. And we all crammed forward in the cabin. At above ten thousand, you're supposed to go on oxygen. We didn't have any. Everyone got a little sleepy.

We needed to make a re-fueling stop. Chase City, West Virginia was the chosen location. According to the latest book, this airport had the required grade of AVGAS we needed. It was dusk as we joined the circuit above the airstrip. Attempts to contact them by radio went unanswered. Maybe they closed down for the day? Things looked quiet from above. No planes on the runway, so we made our landings, taxied towards the office, parked beside an old Expediter, and went to see about gas. It was a shock to find that the office, hangar, and fuel pump were all locked-up. A sign in the window read "we are out of gas". Subsequent investigation revealed that the airstrip went out of business recently. We didn't have enough fuel to make alternative airports, so we were euchred!

We clowned around taking photos, while the pilots (Eddie & Terrifico) figured something out. Andy took shots of Mo, Vinny, & I at the locked pump & sign. Herb Bond & Mo feigned pouring siphoned gas from a tiny pail into one of the planes. The one-horse-town at least had a motel. It was decided that we'd bunk there. The Otters were secured; we grabbed our gear and made our way over. I recall that the tap water & even the toilet bowl water were brown. We have to shower in that! A local "good ole boy" was our hospitality director, of sorts. He was like Otis in this "Mayberry from Hell". I recall having a conversation with him where we got on the topic of acid rain. He stated that Canada was just as guilty, if not more so, as smog from Canada was coming south & polluting their lakes, too! His mind was made up, so there was no point speaking further.

Chase City was hardly a city. There was one restaurant called Dick's Diner. We'd walk over for our meals. It was one of those greasy spoons with round stools at a counter. The local Sheriff spent time there. He & his partner were serious, no-guff, types - not like Andy Taylor & Barney Fife on the Andy Griffith Show. Most of the locals were curious about, and friendly towards, the Canadian FlyBoys. The town was somewhat segregated. I remember black kids playing on the other side of the railroad tracks. Really!

It was getting boring. We spent a couple of nights in this redneck backwater. Meanwhile, the pilots arranged to have a fuel truck come from Fort Bragg, North Carolina. The US military saved our ass! But the crew on the bowser wasn't impressed with us. Apparently, the truck had a governor with a maximum speed of 30 mph. They had to drive the whole way at that speed. They weren't looking forward to the trip back.

With our planes filled, we could bid adieu. We had become celebrities of sorts. We were the stranded Canuck airmen. People wanted to see our bush planes & I remember showing a group inside. Word spread that we were leaving (to the economic dismay of the motel & diner). Cars & people lined the road beside the defunct airport to watch us take-off. A major event it was for the local populace.

The Beach

Coming in to Myrtle was exciting. The sight of the ocean & beach from the air. You could see the amusement park & golf courses. Landing at the air base was a rush. A-10 tank killers were taking off & landing, even in formation. Very impressive. The weather was mild & there were palm trees all around. The air base shared runways with a civilian airport. We made our way over there to a car rental agency. Rob Carr & I used our credit cards to rent two sets of wheels for the group.

Getting on base at the main gate, we were inspected by armed Air Police, who checked our ID. Quite a change from Downsview where a Commissioner gave you a green light as soon as he saw your CFB Toronto decal. We made our way to the VAQ, the Visiting Airmen's Quarters. This was more like a hotel than a barracks. For $4 a day we got a great room which included a mini bar fridge, coffee maker, & maid service. Baths were shared between rooms, rather than the communal ones we were use to. Colin Stearman said there was a book that listed all the military bases and their lodgings, across the US. What a great way for us to travel across America! Isn't Nellis AFB near Las Vegas…?

We headed over to the Airmen's Club. This put our Junior Ranks to shame. The place had the feel of a swank cocktail lounge with Jacketed bartenders & comfy chairs. Waitresses said something that we couldn't quite make out. Sounded like "persh-she-ate-it". After awhile we came to realize that instead of saying "thanks", they were saying "appreciate it" - in their southern drawl.

The base was like Disneyland to us. It wasn't brand new but the amenities were far more modern & elaborate than what we were accustomed to. There was a golf course on base. This was Myrtle after all. They had a duty free liquor store. A shopping center, not simply like a Canex Store. And a huge bowling alley. Yep, Americans treat their military personnel right!

Striking Out On The Redneck Riviera

A night on the town was compulsory. We loaded up the cars & headed to the VIP 2001 disco, the big dance club on the strip. The crowd was pretty sparse. Cam turned on his charm & attempted to chat up the ladies. Now Cam's pick-up lines were typically shallow "Hey baby, let's party" stuff but they always worked. Not on this day. The women weren't biting and they were down right rude. Everybody was crashing & burning. I asked one woman if she'd like to dance. "I've got a broken leg"; she said smugly, hardly looking up from her drink. I looked at her fine gams & replied sarcastically, "Well then, can I sign your cast?" it was getting comical. In South Carolina they only serve liquor in bars from those tiny shot-an-a-half bottles. Our group was going through a gazillion of them. Except for our sober Andy, who was watching the pathetic spectacle & would later drive our car home.

Pete Bannister tries another approach. He offers a lady a cigarette from one of those stupid American packs. He coolly peels off part of the top, bangs it against his hand and then several cigarettes fly out at her & onto the floor. His image shattered, he says, "forget it" and walks back to us. The situation was becoming depressing. Pete holds up one arm like a periscope. He flaps his thumb against the fingers & turns the hand around the room. I ask him what he's doing. He says this is his "Ugly Detector". "The only way any of us is going to score is to locate & hit on the ugliest one here". I howl. Eventually his detector zeros in on a likely target. He makes a beeping sound, and off he goes.

The only one that had any luck was Joanne Gillies. Only thing was, she was hit on by a lesbian. This older woman cornered her in the can. "Why I do declare, you're as pretty as two peas in a pod! My little, speckled butter-bean". Jo was terrified & beat a hasty retreat. She repeated the story to the group. Colin kept repeating the women's lines & couldn't stop laughing.

Afterwards, we befriended a young woman who took pity on us. She was from Philly. He family moved here and started a pizza joint. She explained that there was nothing wrong with us, other than our timing. It was the week before the CAN-AM Celebration (when there were many tourists - including Canadians - in town) so tourist season hadn't started. Only the local women were around. And they get fed up with all the golfers who breeze into town & hit on them. She was a pleasant lady & I remember us visiting her at the pizza parlour. At least we had one friend in town. We learned about grits & hush puppies from her. Hush puppies were hunks of corn bread, which were baked alongside loaves of bread. She said they were given to the hound dogs to keep them from crying for the other baked goods. So, the trip was somewhat educational! Back at the VAQ, Vinny decided to serenade some of us with song in the middle of the night. At least he was happy.

The next day we were primed for more adventure. All except Cam. Cam, who was always up & ready to party was for the first time down & out. He was moping around his room depressed & didn't want to go out. All because the "Horvath Charm" had failed. I had found his weakness. He couldn't be alone without female companionship & couldn't handle striking out. For some of us, that was practically a way of life! But it incapacitated him - a trip without chicks. I told him to lose the funk. "We've only got a day or so left. Come on, we're gonna play golf".

A bunch of us were going to a par 3 Executive style course. This was Cam's first time, so we also did some time at a driving range & one of Myrtle's elaborate mini-putts. I think Cam was actually having some fun & it distracted him from his poor lounge lizard performance. Some seeds were sown here, as golf would become a passion for Cam. And he'd return to Myrtle many times. About a decade later, we'd return together for a golf trip, but that's another story. Those later trips of Cam's would get him into marital difficulty, but that's another story as well.

The Officer's attended their dinner on Saturday night. We kept busy on the links but also bowling. Although the temperature was about 60 degrees, there was absolutely no one on the beach. The water was cooler than that. In spite of the wind & waves, this was prime polar bear condition for Andy to have a swim in the ocean. We went to the beach & he had his dip. We recorded this on film. The amusement park was open. Andy clicked a photo of me in one of those trick mirrors. We decided to take a ride on the roller coaster. Bob Carr had never been on one in his life.

He started out OK as we climbed the first big hill. Then plunging over the top, he became terrified. While we yelled & screamed, Bob's eyes became the size of saucers. Drool spewed from the side of his mouth. The cars came to a stop. Bob's face was white. His hands are in a white-knuckle grip on the bar. We almost have to pry his fingers off - he won't move. He's paralyzed with fear and they want to get him out so they can load the next group for the ride. We coax him out. He can't speak. While walking around the park, Bob gradually returns from that far away place & back to reality. We kid him about going back on the roller coaster but he's adamant, "I'll never do THAT again"!

On Sunday we packed our bags, donned our flight suits, and checked out of the VAQ. Time to leave the temperate weather, A-10's & palm trees, and head home to snow. During the return flight, pilot Don Eddie had me take the controls for a bit, while he ate an orange & checked his chart. This was a thrill. The only time I recall flying an Otter. This time we were taking no chances & our fuel stop was Fort Bragg. As we descended & circled the base, you could see multitudes of transport planes & hangars. Rows of Hercules & Starlifters. Through our headsets you could hear communications with the tower. Eddie stated to ATC that "Canadian Military 9404 & 3671 were U-1A's". The U-1A designation is what the US Army gave the Otter when they were flying them. The US Army was DeHav's biggest customer for the Otter, but they hadn't flown them in years. From the silence of the tower, we gathered that they were flipping through reference books trying to figure out what we were. Everybody knew about the U-2 spy plane, but what's a U-1? Perhaps they thought we were some kind of secret, stealth spy planes! Finally they realized we had propellers & were STOL.

The tower gives us landing instructions. They doubt that we can touch down before the 1st taxiway, so say we can turn left at the 2nd. Well, this now is a challenge for Capt Eddie of how little runway is needed by the venerable Steam Otter! He brought her in low & slow over the button. Putting her down, he slams on the brakes to a chorus of squeals from rubber against asphalt. We stop short of the 1st taxiway. The tower then said, "Um, very well 9404, you can turn there". We all cheered & flashed thumbs-up. We were pleased to display the Otter's legendary short landing capability to the modern American military.

A truck with a "Follow Me" sign on its rear came to lead us to our parking area. We went past some of the rows of behemoth aircraft that seemed to go on forever. It was an ironic contrast. Our two tiny flying anachronisms compared to all this military might. The truck stops & out steps the driver - a tall, gorgeous, redheaded female Sergeant. We didn't see many American service women on the trip but if she was any indication, they didn't just surpass us in the quantity & quality of their equipment! We were shepherded into a lounge where we could get snacks while the planes were fueled. Colin & I made a side trip where we "Zap" one of the transports with a 411 sticker that Colin had. It was a good photo-op for Andy of our "capture".

The journey home resumed & it was uneventful. The Allegheny Mountains past below. When we reached Niagara Falls, a couple of steep turns above the cataracts provided a breathtaking photo-op, and a fine conclusion to this story.

Our American cousins were outstanding hosts. This was by far the best trip I had during my Reserve days. It wasn't perfect. Sure, we got stranded, there weren't any sexual liaisons, any toking, no romances, but it was an eye-opener. An adventure. And nobody lost an eye. Got to see how the other side lived. I felt I was in my element - discovering other countries & southerly latitudes. It was my last trip away in an Otter. Probably the last for many of the others, too.

Family Days & Otter Exodus

Oh the Otters were still around in 1981, but their days were numbered. At the Family Day held the previous October, the Squadron got their first look at a Kiowa. Sgt Jim Greig still did one of his parachute jumps from an Otter. I missed this one in 1980 but I remember the Family Days of 1978 & 1979. Hot dogs, pop, and such were served in the Canteen for the visitors. We readied the planes on the tarmac, which took our family members up for a "fright". Photos from 1978 help to jog my memory. There's Jeff "Smithy" Smith helping to do a start on 9421. Otter 9423 is on floats. Jim Greig did his parachute jump, assisted by Mo, once he hit the ground. The Pipe & Drum Band, who did a march past, provided entertainment. Children were taken for rides on our mock "train". This was a wooden locomotive that fit on a mule & hauled a few cars. It said "CFB Toronto" on the front with a picture of Sparky the fire safety dog. Obviously, this was built by the base firefighters. Steve French was the "engineer" this day, assisted by Erick Steckenbourne. Steve was a Metro cop who liked big bikes & went NES (Non Effective Service, which meant that you weren't showing up enough to be effective) sometime after this & left the Reserve.

In 1979, my dad attended the Family Day event. The highlight for him was sitting in the co-pilot's seat for a ride. Wearing the helmet, listening to the radio chatter while the pilot explained what he was doing - was all very impressive for him. Now he could see why I was giving up my weekends & part of the summer, or working B Class, instead of working with him in the family business! He was so excited when they landed, having flown circles around the CN Tower.

In mid October 1980, the last major SAR with the Otter took place. This was SAR Ryan in Matagami, Quebec. I wasn't on this search but Andy was, from Oct 17-30. His logbook & photos document the SAR. The pilots included: Major Procyshen, Capt Blatchford, Major Chuck Reed, Capt McLean, Capt Giaconelli, and Major Ken "Cash" Money on 3671. Otter 9421 was also there. Besides Andy, the other Techs included Jo "No Balls" Pilsener, Eugene Pietro, & Ollie Slobelski. A Mary Ellen of Trans Quebec Helicopters found the lost helicopter on the last day of the search, in the company of the Search Master, Capt Burger. There were no survivors.

The official hand over parade for the Kiowa took place on Nov 15, 1980. We didn't have any at that time, so 3 were borrowed from 427 Squadron, on display for the ceremony. We didn't receive our own Kiowas until Jan 20, 1981. By the beginning of 1982, the Otters were gone.

May 1981 saw the last Operation "Rubber Duck" (float Otter exercise) take place. Sgt Dick Balls put this on. Neither Andy nor I were part of this. Andy hadn't been a crewman for any of the Rubber Ducks.

During August/September 1981, the Otter's "swan song" Cross Canada Flight took place. Captain Eddie started on the East Coast & flew an Otter west to all the Provincial capitals & to all the air bases. MCpl Cam Horvath & Cpl Tom Idiott were chosen as the crewmen. I was jealous of Cam & Tom for being selected for this detail. Tom was junior to me, yet he was bestowed the honour of being aircrew. Andy was passed over for this adventure, as well.

On Dec 20, 1981, the last 400 Squadron Otter flight occurred, also flown by Capt Eddie. When that flight landed, the 21-year association with Otters ended. It was a low-performance bird, but we killed a lot less people than during the fighter days. In fact, there were no fatalities while flying the Otter! The safety record continued with the Kiowa (I believe). Which isn't to say that there weren't any fatalities involving helicopters. Wally Sweetman's death in the Sea King crash, is one example.

In January 1982, one last, long trip was flown, as a perk for the air-crewmen. They were now out of a job. The destination was Washington DC. I don't recall Andy talking about being on this trip but he has dated photos from it. One depicts snow-covered mountains against an Otter wing strut. One of a tribute to Amelia Earhart in the Smithsonian. There's shots of the Spirit of St. Louis, a Ford Tri-motor, other planes, motorcycles, and spacecraft at the museum. The Capitol building, art, statues, The Jefferson, Lincoln, & Washington monuments. And one of a snow covered White House. Andy spent a scant 2 years as a crewman from late 1979 until 1981, but 2 more years than I had. I remember some of them from my time - John Monroe, Joe Grinch, Al Cooper, Cam & Tom, Kevin Lockett and others in the RSU & 411. They have their logbooks & memories.

Many aspired to join the "Mile High Club", which was having sex while a mile high in the aircraft. Perhaps this was more legend than reality. I believe that some not only aspired to join the "Club" - a few actually did! I wasn't one of them. And with the end of the Otter, my opportunity for a future possibility vanished. A sad day, indeed!

Crashes

There were a few forced or hard landings, prangs, etc., during my time with the unit. One winter, Irwin Terrifico was test-flying Otter 3673 after an engine change. The engine failed when an oil line let go. He landed it on a snow-covered field north of Toronto. The skis caught in a ditch & collapsed, as the plane kept going. Andy was on the recovery operation, as were Cam, Rob Cooper, Rob Carr, Rick Folker, Ron Mercy, & Colin Stearman.

On another occasion, Cam was flying with Capt McLennon (the pilot who was displaced from his room in North Bay). They were taking off at Downsview during a strong cross wind. We watched the plane as it began to lift off the runway & a strong gust caused the plane to roll. One wingtip smashed against the ground. The plane was hastily landed. Cam came down the ladder & he looked as lily white as Rob Carr did on the Myrtle Beach roller coaster. Quite a trick, considering Cam's dark complexion. He dropped to his knees & kissed the ground. Cam was visibly shaken. "Life flashing before my eyes" shaken! He excitedly stated that he thought it was game over. He got over it. Damage to the wing was minimal.

We use to get these safety notices that had graphic photos of accidents. I took them seriously. I remember the ones depicting the loss of fingers from personnel who jumped down from the cockpits of aircraft, and their rings got snagged on something. I stopped wearing rings for that reason. These notices continued with the introduction of helicopters. I recall the photo of the mangled glove & hand of a pilot who decided he could stop the rotation of a tail rotor by grabbing the rotor's spinning drive shaft after shut down. After that incident, covers were installed on the shafts. Then there were the accidents involving wire strikes with the Kiowas. Wire cutters were then installed on the top & bottom of the cockpit. The "Safety Nazis" were kept busy, for as soon as they would create a fix for one situation, someone would find a new way to injure themselves.

Mile And A Half

One of the rites of spring while working with the RSU was the annual Mile And A Half. This had nothing to do with the Mile High Club, but rather was a physical fitness run. This was a requirement that probably went back to the RCAF days & their 5BX Exercise Plan, inorder to keep us in shape (sort of). On a given day, the whole unit would report to a track area & everyone would have a go. There were different time requirements for the distance, based on your age group. Being 25 years of age, I would have to run the 1.5 miles quite briskly. Whereas, someone like Jim Whiting, a RCAF era "Rigger" who was well into his forties - he could almost walk the distance & still pass, given the time allowed for him. I recall finishing my run & seeing Jim still doing laps. Sweat was pouring from his baldhead as his round frame huffed & puffed, and slowed to a snail's pace. I believe Jim passed, or else the phys-ed staff was in a good mood that day & shaved some time off of his performance.

Jim was a character. He joined as a young man in the heyday before unification. I believe he had more than 20 years in but he was a career man that knew nothing else, so had no wish to retire. He had lots of "old days" stories. He remained a bachelor & stayed in the Men's Barracks his whole career. You couldn't call him a great worker, as he clowned around most of the time. I remember him often making mock trumpet music, things like the RCAF March Past, as he swung his arms & pretended to march off to the Tool Crib in his coveralls. He often complained about CFB Moose Jaw. "You haven't been cold until you've been posted there". I remember him congratulating me & being impressed that at my tender age I was doing research on RRSPs & retirement plans. He thought I was a smart cookie for thinking about the future. Although I liked his antics, he was one of those RSU Techs that gave Toni Cardoni a hard time about her going out with Sherman, the black guy. Secretly, I hoped he had a massive coronary as he ran!

Journal Entries

For a time in 1981, I kept a daily journal documenting the events of that period. Some of these I have very little recollection of. So, if it weren't for the journal, they would be lost memories. The feelings were real at the time. Here are some of the entries…

Friday, Apr 3:

Party at Colin Stearman's home. It was a great. I had a fantastic time. Gigi Cooper was hanging around with the group more & more. April is Cancer Month. I had gotten a daffodil for a contribution. Gave Gigi the flower & a kiss. When she left, she gave me a kiss goodbye.

There was a party at Mother Marl's apartment recently. We sat on the floor in a circle & played cards.

The Honour Guard did their performance. The Guard was composed of members representing each branch of the armed forces. The Air Reserve representation was pretty much Tom Idiott & Colin Stearman. Now, we're not known for doing rifle drill. So, our guys practiced & practiced. They really got into it, determined that they wouldn't be outdone by the army & navy types. They not only held up our end, they stole the show, to the joy of our people in attendance!

Saturday, Apr 4:

Earlier in the week, Rob Cooper approached me in the Tool Crib. Grinning like the Cheshire Cat, he said that he knew someone that wanted to go with me to the Ladies Night dance on base, on April 11. I couldn't believe it. Gigi & me? Nah, really?…But she agreed! There was a party tonight at Vinny & Vicki's PMQ. Something was up, as Dave Cooper asked me at the hangar if I was going. If not to the party, then later to the Mess. It was good at the party. I wondered if she would show up with her brothers & she did. Later, a bunch of us did go to the Club. This was the first time that Gigi came to the Mess. She moved next to me after awhile. And she grabbed me to dance - twice. And those slow ones are great. I love the way she feels. Pulling me close. Her height, her head on my shoulders, long slender fingers, and her arms around me, her face, her long hair - all very appealing. She's shy, demure, quiet, and classy - like her mother. A real lady.

I didn't get a goodbye kiss tonight when she left the Club. So, I was a little disappointed after reflecting on how hot & heavy she had been with Colin on the ski weekend. I'm getting attracted to her & we're going out together next weekend.

(During the Xmas break, I had gone to the downtown Simpson's department store to buy toys for my young cousins. I could have gotten toys elsewhere, but Gigi was working in the toy department for the holidays, and I wanted to see her. I guess I had been interested since Halloween.)

Sunday, Apr 5:

Thought about calling up Gigi, but I'm afraid of being too aggressive & scarring her off. I also wonder if she's really interested in Colin. He's involved with Lynda, the blonde on base. He went with her and a bunch to the Ticker Tape in Burlington. Both Gigi & I are available. I've watched her for sometime, dreaming. I know others are as well… Carmine, forinstance. She has much to offer but she's young & fragile. Everyone needs someone, including you. Go for it! Call her Wednesday & see if she's busy.

Tuesday, Apr 7:

Chip Ray & Tony Cane dragged me out of my bed to Fletch's room in the shack. War stories & drinking until 3AM.

Wednesday, April 8:

My throat felt lousy. Bad case of the dry coughs from smoking too much (and staying up late). I was rather excited looking at the Yellow Pages for rental cars or chauffeured limos. Called Gigi about the plans for Saturday. Thought about asking her out before then, but thought it could wait till after Ladies Night. Wanted to tell her a lot of things, but kept tripping over my tongue.

Cam & I went with Chip to the Colonial on Yonge. No one else was interested in going, even though it was Chip's last night in Toronto, before heading off to Cold Lake & the Reg Force. Chip almost didn't get in. The bouncer gave him a hard time, as he was underage. Chip kept working him, telling the guy it was his last night in Toronto & his buddies have taken him out before he leaves for the army. He apparently pleaded, almost in tears. The gorilla said, "OK, go in". Chip joined us at the "drool trough", the front row beneath the stage. We did a pretty good job of showing our departing brother a good time. He got quite wasted. I wasn't much better.

One of the strippers was a ringer for my high school sweetheart. She did ballet moves like my old flame did. The more beer I drank, the greater the similarity became, to the point that I truly believed that "those are her breasts". Could her dancing career have landed her on the stage at the Colonial, instead of the O'Keefe? Somehow we managed to get Chip & ourselves safely back to the base.

Friday, Apr 10:

Helped Dougy Wilkins with work on his dad's '52 Buick, in Pickering. Has a shop beside Vicki Street. His dad is a collector with several vintage cars. He's a good guy & he said to "come over anytime". Never took him up on the offer to return for a ride.

Saturday, April 11: Ladies Night

Couldn't get the chauffeured Bentley & a Caddy was too costly with not enough pizazz. So I rented a Gran Marquis. (While the primer covered Mustang was fine enough for the boys when we went that time to the Harbour Castle Hotel - and for the doorman & valet, when they let us out & parked it - it wasn't good enough for "milady"). I inquired about a tux. Not enough notice and a heavy security deposit would have been required. Instead, saw old Mike Schiller at Malabar's Theatrical Costume Rentals. Got a set of vintage tails. Nostalgia, like Fred "I'm putting on my top hat" Astaire. Next stop was the florist for a carnation for my buttonhole & a rose for Gigi.

Picked up Gigi at the Cooper's. She looked fine in her gown. She sat quietly in the front seat with her flower. I got the laughs later, all right. Someone else wore vintage tails, too. Lockett thought our suits were a sensation, but I wasn't a sensation with Gigi. I gave her attention but wasn't all over her. Played the gentleman. Anyway, she ignored me when Colin suddenly became available.

The emotions are not quite the same now, as I write this. I've had most of my frustration & anger vented. But I was some pissed off. What a smooth scene it was! Colin ignores Lynda & they fight. Lynda storms out. Colin puts the smooth move on Gigi & she's all over him. I can see that she has no interest in dancing further with me or in leaving with me. So, in the can I ask Colin if he wants the honour of escorting the lady home. He lays this narrative on me, whereby they've already discussed the dilemma - and behold, she says that she wants to go home with him. That she wants to be his girlfriend. Tomorrow, he says he's going to see her but gallantry dictates that she should accompany me tonight. This was VERY BIG of Colin. But being the NICE GUY - I said, "you take her". Let it never be said that old Freddy Boy stood in the way of true love!

At least I figured I could slip out before the embarrassment was too much to bear. But I was slow to act. I should have flocked off immediately. But instead of leaving in a huff in front of my friends, I sat it out. Gigi had now moved to another table. I went over to relieve some of the potential friction. To tell Gigi that Colin could take her home, it was fine by me. Big gesture on my part. While I'm attempting this, she's got her head turned, like she couldn't even look at me. And Mike Robertson's giving me; "go home, Fred. Fuck off!" while I'm trying to say good night. What did I do to deserve this? "Nice friends I have", I thought. I tried to get in with the Cooper Clan et al, but I guess I missed the mark. I was pissed at the whole lot of them. I drove home to Burlington that night. Left my barrack's room open for Colin. After all that, he wanted to stay at my room! I lost my date, my place on the base, and my dignity. Quite a bargain. I cut out. Sunday I returned the car with dad's help. When we returned home that morning, we talked for some time. I'm glad I've got that old guy. Granny was in the Intensive Care Unit. Went to see her. She was relieved to see me. Tranquil. Saw her again before surgery. Monday, I took back the suit.

(Ladies Night inspired me to later write a little tune, whose Chorus went:
"What did I do to deserve this?
Did I somehow step out of line?
What did I do to deserve this?
Everything was going so fine…"

I couldn't help feeling that I was set-up in this episode. I was the dupe. Gigi engineered it with the help of her brothers to merely get her an escort to the dance. So that she could hook up with Colin. Once that occurred, I was expendable. I guess what would impress a thirty-something lady (like renting a fine ride & a tux) was laughable to a teenage girl. My opinion of her brothers changed. All the Cooper brothers never said a word about it. I had been humiliated & not one of them apologized to this "brother". Least of all, Gigi herself. Her attention & kisses ended that night. To make matters worse, she joined the unit. I'd now have to work with her. Cam would say things like she's young & she's really sorry, but she never said a word to me. I never bought it. She continued to be the cute, innocent, little thing. I began to realize that not all things that are beautiful are good, but that which is good is really beautiful. Gigi fell in the former category. I tried to avoid her in the future. She would prove to be not so sweet & burned a few folks. I only lost some pride. Others were later defrauded out of money, even family members.

The Cooper family was considered the pride of the Squadron, in most quarters. A nice home. Classy mom. All the parties they put on. An open house to all. Good citizens. Likeable brothers. Lovely sister. But it wasn't a "Leave it to Beaver" life. This incident & subsequent ones caused me to realize that all wasn't so perfect in this revered family. There were warts to cover up. Blood was thicker than water, indeed. Not one of them would say, "Buddy she screwed-up & did a number on you, man". No one had the guts to be independent. It would have meant something if Gigi had said she was sorry sometime in the future. But it wasn't the Cooper way to admit a faux pas, least of all to be sorry about it. The clan would always choose silence to ignore any indiscretions & would always stick together. Or so it seemed.

I didn't expect things to play out the way they did, Prior to that escapade; I felt that Gigi deserved respect & the best treatment. I liked the family & found her attractive. I had hoped that things might develop slowly & positively for us. I could imagine her brothers as brothers-in-law & her mom as my mother-in-law. I would have been proud of that association & would have treated her well. I was fantasizing about marriage for the first time since my high school sweetie. We could have had tall children! Gigi had made her choice but I saw Colin as a player who was still seeing Lynda & others. He wasn't much different, I thought, than Cam - other than being more silver tongued & funny. The storyteller who could stretch out a common occurrence & make it an entertaining opera. That's whom Gigi wanted.

In hindsight, I see that we're all players. Nobody knows you for your whole life. All you have are little slices of life, snippets. And the people are frozen in time in your memories, like scenes from an old movie, unchanged. They don't change or grow. But they do. I did have some attention from Gigi for a brief period. It's better to love, even if unrequited, than not to have loved.

At the time though, I felt that if she, one of the "best of the 400", could treat me so poorly, what hope was there of finding a decent, loving woman in this place? Things soured quickly for me. I wouldn't take a chance again or give my heart away. Not amongst this crowd.)

Wednesday, Apr 15:

Things weren't bad at work during the week. That's because neither Colin nor the Cooper's were around. Today was the RSU Curling Funspiel (I've recounted this episode earlier). Colin showed up with Lori from Wing. He was smashed & was all over her & made an ass of himself, swearing at the barmaid. (Lori later hooked-up with Tom Idiott. For awhile, Tom was seeing both his old girlfriend Lori from off base, as well as this Lori. It got confusing, as both were named Lori & also their last names were similar! Coincidence? Anyway, Tom & Lori would soon leave the Reserves together. It said they got involved with a marina up north & dropped out of touch of the scene).

Colin apologized to me today. He "didn't mean to take my date away from me. That was uncool". I said that she had her share in the evening, that she was all over him. I thought a Cooper would have had more savvy. Cam was right; she was too young & fickle to know any better. But a Cooper could get away with it. A "lesser" lady might have been blackballed by the whole unit as a bitch.

Thursday, Apr 16:

Wearing myself down. Got pink eye again. I got some rest after work today. Went to the TGIF "Happy Hour". Free drinks. Played cards with the boys. Left early & crashed till morning. I missed the Squadron flying night, the stand-down party & the activities afterwards at the Mess. Who cares?

Friday, Apr 17:

Got up early. Met MCpl Martine Soindon from Quebec City. A reservist at CMA until July, to improve her English. A very charming woman, who reminds me of the Acadian cousins of my buddy Dave. I wished I would have gotten her phone number, as I'd like to see more of her. I could have asked her to spend Easter with my family. I know what it's like to be in a strange place on a holiday - away from friends & family.

Ken & Deanna Mills are having a jam session tonight at their farm in Bolton. I didn't want to go to Ken's because I can't take the group's shit anymore. What am I? Repulsive? A monster? A pervite? But this was OUR evening. Ken's, Cam's, Al's (Cam's brother), and mine. This was my medium. I belong at this kind of scene. Not at formal dances. Had a great time jamming. Played "South of the Border" & other tunes. Brought a cassette recorder along & made a tape. You could hear Colin & the girls in the background yucking it up. I ignored Al Cooper, Mikey, Gigi, and Colin. Colin & Gigi were pretty subdued after last Saturday. It seemed like Colin was keeping his distance, rather than being the loverboy. She didn't have anything to say to me, nor I to her. Ronnie Swift, the two Coopers, Mike & Carmine all left together. Colin left with Dorothy & Cam! Strange. I like Ken & Deanna. They're great to me. It seemed that everyone was going out of his or her way to be pleasant. Al & his wife Nancy, Dorothy, Cam & Colin. Everybody but Mike. I'm gonna get that guy if he keeps up the sarcasm.

One of the guys from Ken's blue grass band took me for a spin on a skidoo. We were both pissed at this point. He took us into a wire & we were both clotheslined & knocked right off the machine. It's a ride I'll not forget! Thankfully, we were not injured.

(What you can get away with is a function of who you are & whom you're with. Cam could get away with just about anything. Gigi could, too. No one spoke ill of her because she was a Cooper. They would protect this girl [not even in the unit yet] over their "brother" Corporal. Now Cam came up with a name for Mike Robertson - "The Dog Faced Boy". Mikey wasn't the most handsome guy around, it's true, but it was still cruel. If I had invented that handle, the clan would have blackballed me, even more. But Cam could get away with calling him that. Moreover, he came up with a ditty, to the tune of the first part of "House on Pooh Corner":

"Michael Robertson, he's a dog
And he looks like one, and smells like one, too"

Yep, Cam could get away with penning that & singing it in front of the group. On this occasion, I delighted in joining in! Mikey, Cam suspected, had the hots for Gigi, as Carmine & others did. He was part of the extended clan & protected her. His sarcasm was reaching my breaking point. I had only acted honourably the previous weekend. I was now on the verge of smashing his teeth in. One might be ostracized for pummeling one of the Coopers but Mikey was no more a brother than I was was. The clan may not have liked me any greater for such an act but I was feeling I had nothing to lose. And maybe gain some satisfaction. But I resisted the urge.)

(Ken & Deanna would soon go their separate ways. This would create a brief, awkward period, as they both were in the Squadron. Where Deanna may have been distant before, she then became too friendly, like to the point of coming-on to me. I didn't bite. Ken became negative about her. He said something at one point like Deanna was a slut. That she was a groupie from one of his bands. It didn't seem like the best basis for a marriage, as groupies usually want ALL the boys in the band & their infatuation eventually ends. This awkward period where both parties were trying to win people to their side ended when Deanna left the Squadron. Ken stayed but the farm in Bolton was then a memory.)

Easter Weekend
Apr 18-20

Spend the weekend at home & with family in the Fort Erie area. Did some work on the motorhome. Decided to pamper myself & bought a large ghetto blaster, like the boys in Germany got. With this, I could record some of my tunes. After someone's suggestion, I dyed my hair blonde.

Tuesday, Apr 21:

Yesterday I was working with Cam in the Maintenance Bay. He kept looking at me. There was something different but he couldn't figure it out. Sometime later, with sunlight glinting on my hair, he realized that my hair colour was different. He kept wondering why I did it. I wanted some change. (These days, Cam's hair is artificially dark. He fears aging).

Spent Tuesday evening at the Mess with Tony Cane. Fletcher was there. The girls (Ronnie, Sharon, & Darlene) came after work. Ronnie told me that she's NOT Dave Cooper's girlfriend. That she put a damper on the relationship before it got out of hand. Dave & Rob Cooper are down in Texas for a vacation until the weekend. Ron Mercy was molesting the women (as normal).

Wednesday & Thursday, Apr 22 & 23:

After work at the Mess with Cam & Tony. Stayed until 7 or 8PM. Went for a cruise with Tony to Canadian Tire, then to the Sheppard Centre.

Thursday, was a quiet night at the Sqn. Went to the Disco after work. Tony borrowed a pair of my slacks so he could get in. Dougy told me there's a party at the Cooper's when Dave & Rob return. I told him I rather go to the Grease Night at the Mess. That's more my style now.

Doug, Cam & I were talking for some time. They knew I was feeling down. Doug said that Gigi has this infatuation with Colin, but some of the Coopers aren't exactly happy with that. Doug & Cam are friends. They've not fucked me-up. Despite the "collateral damage" that occurs as a consequence with being with Cam!

Colin was on the move tonight, being a drunken lout. Mike, the young French-Canadian bartender/finance guy, was saying that Cam & I were good guys, but he has no respect for Colin, after seeing his antics. While Lynda is sitting at our table, Colin moves & chats up a babe at another table. Then Cam & I observe as Lynda gets in on the game. Colin ignores her while she begins necking with this Reg Force guy, and watches for Colin's reaction. There was lots of nice tail at the Mess tonight. I found myself getting itchy.

Neither Cathy, Alex, Lorraine, nor Diane The Jugs was here tonight. However, Deb, Maryanne Holdstill's friend was. She said to give her a call sometime at Base Supply - she's in the CFB book - and we'd go some Friday to Borden to visit Maryanne.

(Maryanne was well known to all of us. She was a child-like Reg Force girl. Her hometown was Coldwater, ON, where she had a boyfriend. This didn't stop her from heavy petting & maybe more. Pilots flew her home on weekends. Not from the kindness of their hearts, I suspect! I recall a particular Cooper party, where I slept over in the basement. Maryanne was very friendly that night & stayed over, too. We cuddled & necked. Heavy petting followed & I got it in her. But then she says, "No, I've got a boyfriend", like she suddenly remembered. No? But I'm already there! I had to make an early withdrawal. I guess by the time of this journal entry, she was now posted to Borden. I didn't make the effort to see her there.)

Cam & I leave the Mess & decide to pay Cathy & Alex a visit over at the PMQs. Cam would like a 2 on 1! We sang about 4 songs on their doorstep. They weren't around. Neighbours passing by watched us. One guy joined in!

Joanne Gillies asked us in for a beer next door. We stayed for one, arguing with her young, Reg Force, guests! Fucking animals! Afterwards, we went across the street & serenaded Vinny, outside of his place. Revenge for his serenade at Myrtle Beach. Vicki came down to chew us out.

Friday, Apr 24:

Vinny & I were on drop zone. We caused the abortion of the mission by getting the truck stuck after the 2nd chute.

Saturday, Apr 25:

I got checked-off on choppers today by "Cookie" Cookson. Grease Night at the Mess. I figured it wasn't worthwhile to head over to Burlington to get proper threads, so I used what I had. Tom & Darlene, Colin & Lynda, Vinny & Vicki, the Coopers, Cam & Dorothy, etc., were there. Cathy & Alex were there, too. The bitches left alone - good. As usual, they played a little of the "let's crucify Fred" routine. Fletcher told Alex to fuck-off, on her offer to take her home. We got really polluted. Closed the place down. Fletcher found a bottle of wine & we took it to the shack.

We sang in the stairwell. Tom Idiott was asleep on Ron's couch. He took Darlene over, no doubt! I was really ill. Bucket by the bed trick.

(Alex & Cathy -or actually the Two Cathies, as both were Cathies but Alex is what everyone called the one, as it was a shortened version of her last name- were two roommates who shared a PMQ. Cathy was friendly to me but Alex was always sarcastic towards me. She had her eye on Cam)

Sunday, Apr 26:

Lockett sent Dave Cooper over to my shack room to wake Cam & I up. Cam & I slept till about 10:30. Lockett put me on rigging a float while Cam went flying. I looked & felt shitty! I tried to sleep in the parachute well but Squadron members wouldn't let me. Later in the day, Lockett reamed us out for being late, for being so ugly looking, and for our brazenness. We went to the Mess after work. Fletch & the Duty Crew from Servicing joined us there. For supper, it was decided to do a group venture to Vetere's. Fletch came with Dave & Steph Hellyer & I.

The group was then going over to the Cooper's for a beer. Ron suggested that we boogey over. So we hopped into his Olds & went. The usual bunch was there. Carmine still was mooning over Gloria & me over Gigi. We watched the movie "The Cassandra Crossing".

Monday, Apr 27:

I just wanted to relax after work. Instead, I went downstairs to the snake pit to get some smokes. I ended up pulling an 11 PM stay. Carl Jurgens, Ron Mercy, and Frank Dixon were there. Ron bought us a round then disappeared to Eaton's to his part-timer. Carl talked at length about overseas, about the women of Denmark. Fascinating! Fletch, Doggerty, & Tom came by. Fletch & I was left. Both of us talked again about how lousy this place is. I told him about the Ladies Night fiasco.

(It's ironic that Ron & I were both living in the shack at this time & complained regularly about how much we hated life at Downsview. I was surprised to find out that Fletcher missed the place so much after he retired from the RSU, that he ended up joining the Air Reserve & served as a Warrant for many years!)

Tuesday, April 28:

I was in my room, playing guitar when Cam startled me by walking in. He came to pick up his uniform. Earlier I sat with Doug for supper at the Mess. He crashed in my room for awhile, while I played. He liked some of the tunes I did. The mellow stuff, like the Beatles' "Norwegian Wood". Cam had found out from Doug where I was & came over. We went back to the Mess. The GMT's were there. Gloria & Ronnie danced with Cam & I, while we were trying to chat-up Diane The Jugs. Cam & I later spent a great deal of time working on her in his car. He thinks we can get something going with her & her friends - Cheryl & Lynn. Maybe even with her older sister!

Wednesday, Apr 29:

My last day at the RSU. We got float 9404 ready by lunch. Dick Balls gave me the afternoon off to do clearances, and gave me tomorrow off to boot. So Carmine - his last day, too - and I were going around getting signatures and I was getting myself signed off on a slew of things. Greg MacGreggor went out of his way to sign my 5's. It was nice. Dick said he had a feeling I would be back. I told him it would only be as an Officer.

Saw Diane at supper. It was steak night. Told her we'd have to party & to call up her friends. Afterwards, I went for a ride up to Maple. Maple Air Service's airstrip has expanded in my 4-year absence. I was kind of surprised that it was still there. Wonderland should be quite the park, once it's done. The grounds looked a little disappointing from the road. Smaller than I expected. I've got to get back into flying & get out golfing.

Tonight I met the boys at the Northgate club. We met Pauline & Peggy, a couple of young ladies. Colin got along with them famously.

Sunday, May 3:

My last day in the shack. Moving day. I felt kind of sluggish. I took my time packing & leaving.

Wednesday, May 6:

Back at the Northgate. Colin said the broads were bringing a friend & wanted Cam & I to come with him. Dud city. This chick, Peggy, wanted to know if we could make it to a toga party she was having. I had to be in Borden that day. Cam said he didn't go either.

(It was strange but being immersed in the military lifestyle, I was finding "normal" civilian girls uninteresting. They couldn't relate to our reality. I preferred girls that were in our environment - even if they might be with your buddy next week. I recall meeting a couple of nurses while out with Cam. Had a phone number but never pursued them. They were good for laughs that night at a club. But the thought of going out on regular dates, just didn't fly at the time. It was only after I got out of the environment, that civilian women were appealing. In hindsight, I see that women outside the military treated me far better, than those inside it. Especially when you consider Kinky Sue & Gigi.)

Thursday, May 7:

My last Thursday at the Mess Disco. At least for awhile. I'd soon be starting summer courses at McMaster. I'm not doing Summer Camp this year, so they won't see me until fall. Everyone was super tonight. Lorraine gave me her phone number. Tienne was warm & we danced a lot (Lorraine & Tienne were regulars that I knew at the Mess). Even Alex said something peculiar.

She wanted a slow dance at one point and whispered in my ear, "Fred, you're so cool". I thought she was being sarcastic, as usual, and said something about not appreciating her & Cathy's little digs & put-downs. She got serious & said that she didn't mean it that way at all. That she's "never said anything to deliberately put me down". It seems that she was always just trying to get my attention.

Darlene dancing with me REAL CLOSE topped off the evening. She cut in on Gloria for the last dance. We clowned about the upcoming weekend of the Annual Shoot would be OUR weekend. It was one of my best evenings at the Mess.

(The journal entries end at this point).

More Women Encounters

Darlene
Darlene Leech had been hanging out with Tom Idiott, but I guess that relationship was waning. May 9th was the Shoot at Borden & we were both there. Can't recall much about it, other than Darlene continued to get friendly and we spent time together. At one point, the young lady had me over to their PMQ. Her parents were out; Dan was probably at work at the RSU. We had a hot & heavy session on the couch, with Darlene stripping down. I remember fondling her young, perky breasts. It didn't get much beyond that, as she had her girly limits. Our relationship didn't blossom, as she moved on to Scott Irvine, the young RSU Private.

Cam also had a liaison with her sometime during this period. He told me about eating her out, but that's as far as she would let him go. I remember some jealousy about her choosing Scott as a suitor, but then they were closer in age. When Scott was first posted to the RSU, I remember him as a pretty good guy. He lived in Orangeville & had a girlfriend there. He had Cam & I visit with them there. He liked to drink, toke, & party. For awhile, we took him under our wing. After some time, I gave up on Scott. He developed that "Reg Force attitude", whereby he saw himself as superior to Reservists & talked down to them. This immature kid that didn't know shit about anything. More often, he was becoming an embarrassing drunken lout. So when he & Darlene became an item, it wasn't long before he beat her to a pulp during one of his drunken stoupers. She most likely left the Reserve after that. I did feel sorry for her, but that was her choice - and she didn't choose wisely, romantically speaking.

The Two Cathies

I use to see the "Two Cathies" at the Mess a lot. They were a tag team that was complete opposites. First was Cathy the blonde. She was a civilian that worked at Ronson, the lighter company. She was a tad heavy, had big boobs, wore glasses, and was the quiet, gentle one. Cathy was single & lived the other Cathy (who was known as Alex) in her PMQ. Alex was the military lady who was divorced or separated & they shared the place with Alex's kids. Alex was dark haired, tall & extremely thin, and almost had no boobs. I think she was a phys-ed instructor, or maybe her ex was, but she was athletic. Alex also differed in personality from her cohort. While Cathy was lady-like, Alex was more of a tomboy - loud, tough, hardened, and irritating.

I came to know this odd duo & Cathy took a liking to me. It was a "no strings" relationship, but Cathy seemed to want more than just a Mess friendship. Anyway, I recall that Alex took a liking to Cam. She wanted me to introduce her to him, and then to bring him along for a visit at their PMQ. Cam obliged. So, one night we partied at their place. It ended up with Cam & Alex adjourning to Alex's bedroom, while Cathy & I had sex on the downstairs couch. Due to the space, we did it on our sides. Cam was pleased with the set-up. No relationship developed, as both he & Alex were content just to have the one fling with each other. Although there was some joking afterwards about the possibility of a threesome with this pair, or the potential of swapping partners.

Cathy was a pleasant lady, but I had no desire to become a couple, or for her to be too clingy. So, I kept a distance afterwards. This caused Alex to increase her sarcasm & digs at me. Until that night that I described above, dancing at the Mess during my last days on base. It seemed that Alex liked me after all, just had a funny way of showing it. Since Cathy & I weren't serious and Cathy had moved on, she started to come-on to me in a manner that I liked. Sometime later in the year, she asked me over to her place. Cathy was out & the kids were asleep. So, she took me to her bedroom & we got it on. She was quiet & submissive. Her small breasts weren't a concern for me, as I never was a boob man. I recall putting her slender legs together & straddling her. At the time, I felt like she & Cathy must have compared notes about me, as her behaviour was so agreeable. As with Cam, she didn't need anything other than a one-night stand. We remained friendly to each other.

I talked to Cam about it afterwards. I felt quite proud of myself. In this instance, I had one on Cam - I had BOTH roommates. That was something that he hadn't accomplished! And it happened without my really trying. It was a big boost to the ego.

Diane Mueller

Diane was a foxy nymph. She was an Admin Clerk, petite with long red hair, which she often put into a bun. She was known for "Dirty Dancing" long before that movie came out. This sensuous dancing caused a few of the women in the unit to be jealous of her. She had her share of base & Summer Camp romances. I know of a few. I wasn't one of them, but truth be known, I would have liked it. I remember that she got a full time job at the base switchboard. It was kind of appropriate that she was then an operator! I can still picture her wearing a headset, while she made connections. I distinctly remember being at her room for some reason, while she was getting her self dressed to go out. She was in a nightgown. We talked while she sat & brushed her long hair. In its own way, an intimate, sensual moment. During my waning days at the Reserve, she was seeing a firefighter on base. They were a likable couple & I remember being friendly with both of them. You could always count on Diane for a dance at the Mess.

Grinch's Witch

There was another redheaded woman that I desired. I don't recall her name, so let's call her Jane. She was a friend of Joe Grinch & his wife. We were first introduced to her at one of the Grinch's Christmas parties. She wore black leather, which contrasted with her fiery hair. There was something about her, the way eyes looked at you & the way she smiled. It was if she had an aura around her. She seemed to radiate confidence, grace, & sexuality. She was captivating. She captured the attention of many of the men. Joe liked her but said that she was kooky, as she believes herself to be a witch! At some point I spoke with her about herself.

Jane confirmed that she was a practicing witch! But there was nothing evil about what she does. It was "white magic". As followers of Wicca, she attempted to become attuned with the forces of nature for good purposes, such as love, peace, and harmony with nature. It sounded like "New Age" philosophy. There were no sacrifices involved in their beliefs, no curses, or hexes. She said that they celebrated astrological events, such as the lunar cycles & the changes of seasons. They had large gatherings in the States, where they came together to pay tribute to the spring equinox, then they all would find a partner & go into the woods & make love! Well, this was fascinating! I welcomed the opportunity to indulge in that with her!

We had seen Jane a couple of times at functions. I became increasingly intrigued in this woman. I dug out my tarot cards & wore amulets, then read a book on her witchcraft, as a result of her influence. But anything further with Jane never did gel for me. I didn't get a phone number & she stopped coming around with the Grinch's. I have wondered what became of "Joe's Witch". Maybe they didn't bring about peace in the world, but you have to start with one person: yourself.

Airshows

We went to a lot of airshows in those days. Sometimes, our own aircraft were a part of a show & performed in them. But even if there wasn't a Downsview presence, we went to them. There were a few that we tried to make like clockwork, as these were the best local ones. These were the London Show (in early June), the Hamilton Show (on Father's Day weekend in later June), and the Toronto Show (on Labour Day weekend). A few times a bunch of us loaded-up in Joe Grinch's van & made a day trip to London.

The London shows were known for the number of military aircraft in attendance & the huge static display. What was great about London was that a number of great air force planes were parked so that you could inspect them close-up, even the ones that took to the air. I was very excited one time to have a tour inside a RAF Vulcan bomber. While we checked out the innards, the crew said that they'd have to end it then, as it was their turn to perform. They buttoned it up, started, then took off & performed their routine. Great stuff.

The Hamilton shows were known for the vintage warbirds. The Canadian Warplane Heritage with its fine flying collection are based there. Often there would be other antique military planes from the likes of the Confederate Airforce from Texas, or the WW I replicas from the Great War Flying Museum from Brampton. The Hamilton show regularly had themes, such as a salute to the RAF Bomber Command & the large number of bombers would stage mock bombing runs, complete with pyrotechnics. In the 1990's, one of the CWH's old WW II hangars burned down, taking some of the aircraft, like the Hurricane, with it. The Lancaster was spared. I joined the CWH for a few years after that, trying to recapture some of the love I had for aircraft in my Reserve days. But the CWH's new hangar didn't quite have the nostalgia as their old ones did. Until recently, I tried to make the Hamilton show each year & reminisce about the Reserve days. Sadly, there wasn't an airshow in 2002, as weather caused them to lose money over the years and so they cancelled it. I do miss it.

The Toronto shows were the most awesome. I still have a few programs from the Canadian International Air Shows that we viewed. They had a variety of aircraft types. In 1979, Oscar Boesch made one of his usual appearances in his glider, to the sound of the words from the poem "High Flight". There were also the Snowbirds, Tomcat, Eagle, F-16, A-10, Our own Otters, Voodoos, CAF Skyhawks parachute team, CWH warbirds, wing walkers, the RAF Vulcan & Nimrod, and the Concorde. The 1981 show was also impressive. Besides the Snowbirds, there were the Pitts Specials of the Canadian Reds, an Aurora, C5-A Galaxy, Sea Stallion chopper, B-52, CAF 707, CF-100's (one of 414's final shows), F-14 & F-15, SR-71 Blackbird, U-2 spy plane, Voodoos, Acrojet, Hughes 500D, and our own Kiowas. Wow! You won't see such a collection these days. We were in the market for a new fighter aircraft at the time, so all the main players were displaying their jet fighter product at the Canadian air shows. I bet the F-18 made an appearance the following year.

Downsview was also an exciting place while the CIAS was on. Many of the military aircraft lined our tarmac. I have photos from the 1981 show, when we parked & towed those fighter jets, Nimrod, Sea Stallion, & others. It actually felt like an airbase!

Thankfully I wasn't present at the Toronto shows where planes crashed in Lake Ontario. Over the years, the CWH lost their Fairey Firefly, the Snowbirds lost a couple of Tutors, and then there was the Nimrod disaster. With recent high fatalities at air show crashes (including one in Ukraine as I write this) I believe the liability insurance & lawsuits may result in air shows being just a memory. The Hamilton show now is just that.

London Trips

I also remember my first trip to the London show. I believe Mike Robertson may have had a hand in organizing this group trip, as this was his hometown. The group stayed for the weekend at the downtown Holiday Inn. We had dinner at a downtown steak house. The Saturday show was spectacular. The Snowbirds made their customary appearance. That night, we ended up at a local club. Cam & I met a couple of friendly ladies, who were nurses. It seemed there was a nursing school in town, as the place was ripe with them (London being more than just the insurance city). Anyway, Cam & I conned these ladies. When they asked about us, one of us (I can't remember who) said that we were Snowbird pilots in town for the show. We played off each other so well that they bought it & were mesmerized! We said that we were numbers 5 & 9 & we did the solo act, the two of us screaming towards each other & then banking vertical so that we just pass feet from each other. We described "our" start-up ritual, how we did things in synchronized precision, like closing our canopies, pulling out & taking off, then some of the formations. They bought it hook, line & sinker! They sat & danced with us all evening.

While dancing, the girls asked if the group of buddies at another table were also Snowbirds. I said, "No, they're our ground crew", loud enough to be heard. This didn't go over well with them. It's tough to remember just who were all there. I believe it was Joe, Doug, Mikey, Dave & Al Cooper. They threw sarcasm our way. They were just jealous that we had dates. I believe it was Joe who threatened in confidence to expose our pilot charade. But he was bigger than that. We drove the ladies home to their college. We didn't get intimate. Perhaps just as well, as we'd be scoring under false pretenses. It wasn't the first time that someone wasn't exactly truthful about who they are at a bar. We joked about the ladies coming to see "our" show on Sunday & finding out the guys climbing into the cockpits weren't us! Luckily, we didn't run into them there! I also remember visiting Mike's mom at her house with Mikey & others.

There was also a motorhome trip to the London show in the early 1980's. Cam & I went for the weekend with an old buddy of mine, Ed. We'd overnight with the RV at Fanshawe Conservation area. Driving over to the airport for the show. We even took the RV to some club where we met a few bimbos. I recall taking them via the RV to a late night restaurant that had a buffet, then dropping the wenches off. On the trip home, Ed had us drop him off at the side of the road. He said he'd find his way home but had something to do. Ed was a strange duck & was getting stranger.

Eddie-The-Axe

I had known Ed since public school. In high school, together we learned about girlfriends, driving, and fixing cars, etc. I looked more like his brother than his brothers did. Cam had met Ed on the odd occasion but not for an entire weekend. It was sometime after the RV trip to London that Ed snapped. For years after high school, those of us that knew him thought that Ed wasn't growing up. He still did goofy things & acted like he didn't remember doing them - particularly when he had wronged you, he acted like it hadn't happened the next time you saw him. It turns out that he was schizophrenic. This was only diagnosed after he had tried to kill a cop.

He had this big 1960 Jaguar saloon, the kind of stately old car with a bar in back. It broke down a lot. It did the night Ed appeared at some guy's door. Ed asked the fellow if he had any gasoline. The fellow helps him with some. Ed reappears at the door & now asks for matches. The fellow gives him a book of matches but now is suspicious. He watches as Ed takes an axe from his car & begins chopping at the car & an adjacent hydro pole. Next, Ed pours gas on the car & pole. He then takes a match & sets both ablaze. The Good Samaritan decides he had better get the cops. The first arriving cop gets Ed to calm down & put the axe on the cruiser. While the cop talks on his radio, Ed suddenly grabs the axe & plants it in the cop's back & elbow. The wounded Constable manages to shoot Ed in the foot before staggering away & collapsing. This only enrages Ed. When reinforcements appear, he threatens to kill another cop, "like I killed the first one". They run him over with a cruiser & still it takes nine of them to subdue him. (Ed was known to require half a dozen bouncers to throw him out of a tavern).

After this, Ed was known as "Eddie The Axe". He spent seven or so years in psychiatric institutions. His mental illness spared him from attempted murder charges but instead he was held indefinitely on a Lieutenant Governor's Bench Warrant - which meant he was confined until he was deemed safe to society. Initially, he was incarcerated at the Oak Ridge Division in Penetang. I visited him a couple of times. It was a shock. The security was intense. They took photos of the visitors, to ensure that the same people left. You were searched - no keys, metal objects, matches, etc. Heavy steel bars were everywhere. Ed's cell was Spartan, with metal toilet & sink. When he was violent or uncooperative, he was placed in a padded room, naked, with nothing but a slab to sleep on. When his privileges were revoked, he found novel ways to write me letters, such as using juice for ink. He took up smoking due to the boredom.

After one visit, I recall going to a club in Hamilton. A guy approached me & thought I was Ed. "Hey, Ed Dazzleme, how's it going. It's me, Gerry Hill", he said. No matter how much I denied that I was not Ed but Fred, he kept thinking I was pulling his leg. When I told him that I knew him, what had happened to him, and where he was now, he really believed I was making it all up! It was an un-nerving encounter. I cursed my resemblance to Ed.

After several years, Ed's condition improved. E was moved to more minimum-security facilities, first at St. Thomas, then the Ontario Hospital in Hamilton. He was like a lamb in Hamilton - very mindful of the rules, as long as he took his medications. His family worked hard to get him released. Once he was, he became a pain. He dropped by all the time. He gave my wife the creeps. When he didn't take his meds, the worry was that he would snap again. A walking time bomb. He got another psychiatric patient pregnant, then was charged for assaulting her. His family disowned him.

You could tell when he was incarcerated; the collect calls would begin. When he was released, he'd show up on the doorstep with other deranged friends. A firefighter colleague was close to Ed's younger brother. The harassment by Ed became such that this fireman had to move & get an unlisted number. I haven't heard from Ed in a few years. We prefer it that way. Sometimes, you have to let go of friends from the past. Ed blamed family, women, everyone else for his problems. But never himself. There never was any remorse for the injured cop, who was nearly paralyzed.

Peelers

We knew ALL the Toronto area strip joints in those years. For awhile, we were regulars at some. There was the Million Dollar Saloon, which had a shower for the girls to do a wet & wild act. Also the Airport Strip, Cannonball, someplace close by on Finch near Dufferin. Then there was the Colonial on Yonge (where we took Chip for his last night), another place off University called the House of Lancaster (which had a boxing ring type stage). Another place west of the base around Weston & Sheppard in an industrial area. It was here that I recall Huey giving his beret to a lady who was a former Israeli army conscript, to wear on stage. Every time I hear that Seeger tune - "Here I am on the road again, here I am up on the stage" - I picture some of the many women we saw, doing their third & final dance as a rug number on the floor. "No not the rug! Anything but the rug!" I would often say! With all those youthful hormones pumping, I wasn't the only one who was often aroused & couldn't leave my seat!

There was a headliner that a number of us liked & we followed her to a few of her venues. Her name was Bonnie Sue Canor. She was a young, gorgeous blonde with ample tits. Andy & Joe were big fans. Andy liked seeing the big chested ones. Andy got one of her autographed 8x10 B&W glossies. Going to see Bonnie Sue was another one of those outings that a bunch of us packed Joe's van. Good times. Sometimes we'd go en masse to the peelers; other times it was just a few of us, like Cam or Andy & I.

There was a period in the early 80's that Cam was a fixture at one of the places near his Cabbagetown apartment. I recall visiting him there, maybe it was at the Horseshoe, and all the strippers knew him. Cam was a special customer for one girl & he got her to table dance for us. She had a shawl that she held over themselves, while she put her nipples or pussy against his face. He was a charmer! It was also during this time frame that Cam & Tom Idiott were cruising the streetwalker area of Church & Jarvis streets, picking up hookers. I knew about the hookers. As a student, I drove cab part-time. I'd pick-up hookers & their Johns from the Warwick Hotel (where they made contact) and run them over to the better rooms at Larry's Hideaway on Carleton. It was only a dollar fare, but it was steady business! Cam gave me all the details of how they made contact, parked in an alley, the girls applied rubbers, then gave them blowjobs in the car. I believe the going rate back then was $20, but they'd dicker.

When Cam came to visit me at my home, I'd take him to some of the local strip clubs in Hamilton. Hanrahan's is still there; there was also the upscale Bannister's downtown. When I first started with the Fire Department, a lot of us went to the peelers regularly after work. But that practice, like many others, faded away with time. Mortgages, children, and a lack of interest ended it for many of us.

Dance clubs were also a popular activity. In the early '80's we visited places like Misty's at one of the hotels on the Airport Strip. The Harbour Castle down on the water had another disco with an elaborate light show. There was the Northgate or Ports, mentioned earlier. And I remember that the Hotel Triumph at Keele & Wilson had a disco I visited a few times. Other places from the period were the Jolly Miller, The Gasworks down town on Yonge, the Generator uptown at Eglinton, and the infamous Brunswick Hotel - a popular dive for the college crowd. Out of town, Cam & I made a few trips to Lulu's in Cambridge. They use to get big nostalgia acts, like Herman's Hermits playing there. People would come by the busload. The bar was supposedly the longest in the world. I recall passing out in the parking lot on one visit & in the john on another. Fun - wow! There were also places in Niagara Falls, NY that we frequented. Mostly with my buddies from Hamilton, as it was closer for us. The Library & The Bakery come to mind. One of these had a barber's chair & if you were brave enough to take a seat in it, they poured copious quantities of booze down your throat. The other place had phones at each table, so you could contact people at other tables without leaving your seat. Nice gimmick.

My Apartment

By 1981, I had given up my apartment. I use to share a 2 bedroom in the high rise at Keele & Sheppard with my York U roommate, Doug. He was short & slight with a premature receding hairline. A bit older than myself, he wore glasses & usually sported a beard. I respected Doug. He was very cerebral & a good listener. Although somewhat a social misfit, he was also cool. At an earlier apartment we shared, he rebuilt his 500 cc Triumph bike in our living room. In the early '70's, he thumbed across Canada & spent time in Vancouver's Gastown area, during the period when acid could be ordered in a restaurant like an entrée off the menu. I also remember returning to live together after the summer hiatus to find that he had lost the tips of his fingers from his left hand due to an accident with a saw at his summer job in a cabinet shop. He couldn't play guitar chords with that hand any longer, so he simply re-strung his guitar & learned to finger with his right hand, like Jimmy Hendrix. There was no sorrow from Doug; he just adapted to life.

Doug liked to toke on occasion. It didn't take Cam & a few others long to find that I had a pad close to the Base that was conducive for doing joints. So it was that Cam would come by and sometimes so would Shag Nasty. Doug had a great stereo. He had this ritual where he would wipe down a record with a brush & cleaning fluid, then very gently have the tonearm descend on the vinyl. We'd sit and pass the joint around while listening to albums.

Doug talked about the "information age" & the "information highway", long before they became popular terms. There was the one summer when we kept the apartment, rather than moving back to our homes. I grew a beard after the Summer Camp. I have a photo of myself playing guitar on the balcony barefoot. Doug & I watched the progress as they converted a golf course behind the building into a sub-division. We gave up the apartment when I began to live on Base. He went back to school for computer science. He helped his dad build a solar house. He took a six-month trip & traveled across Africa. Last I heard, the computer firm he worked for let him go & he was looking at selling vacation packages. It's been many years.

Shag Nasty

I first met Al at the Summer Camps in North Bay. He was with 411 Squadron. At the one Camp, he & Joanne "No Balls" Pilsener were an item. I had difficulty pronouncing his name (it was supposedly French). When I repeated it, it came out as "Shag-Nasty". This caused laughter to those present & the name stuck. He was also sometimes referred to as "Shaggy Al". He was long & lean, really skinny. His hair was cropped short & he often looked at you through squinty eyes, like that character from "Third Rock". Squadron mates use to kid that he had no neck - his shoulders always seemed to be hunched upwards & his chin was in his chest. His body always seemed to be in motion, as he walked, strutted, & bobbed like a black guy. He also liked to talk like a street-wise black guy, saying expressions like "what it is?" etc. Personality wise, I thought Shaggy was groovy & fun.

He loved airplanes & could recognize all the vintage warbirds. He built a ton of models when he was younger. I recall attending a party at Al's parent's home. Al caught hell from his father because someone messed with his dad's electric razor. Al was bent out of shape over who would steal parts from it while in the bathroom? He didn't host anymore parties.

Al also liked to toke joints regularly. This fact put Shag Nasty in Cam's good books as it was a common interest and Cam liked partyers. So Cam & Shaggy would drop by my apartment, one or the other bringing some joints. I'd put the Rolling Stones "Shattered" on the stereo. Al too liked the song & we'd laugh & get into it, while we ourselves became shattered. "Huh sha dooby, shattered, shattered…my brains have been splattered, all over Manhattan…this town's full of money grabbers…go ahead, bite the Big Apple…don't mind the maggots."

It was during one of these sessions that somehow Rob Carr also ended up with them at the apartment. Rob, besides being scared on roller coasters, was also extremely square & I suspected was a little slow. He was the closest thing we had to redneck "trailer trash". He had no tolerance for anything outside of his little world. Such matters as homosexuals or drugs threatened his beliefs. Anyway, one of the lads decided that we should turn-on straight Rob to the mellowness of cannabis. He wasn't big on the idea & refused as the joint passed his way. He succumbed to curiosity & our goading & took a couple of hits. All seemed well, that is until Rob snapped. The grass affected this first-timer quickly. He became very loud & agitated.

His face got red & his eyes went wide. He began to scowl & yell things like, "This shit is supposed to make you high? Make you more of a man? I'm an athlete", he screamed. He shot up & then grabbed the chair he was sitting on and flung it up on his shoulder. "I feel like throwing this chair through the balcony window! I'm an athlete; I get high on sports. I don't need this shit". Then he lunged towards the balcony. We restrained him. He was panting & had that far away stare. We got him to put down the chair & to chill. I was glad when he was gone. He was spoiling the good vibe. But then Rob had a way of doing that.

Bob & The Stolen Bottle

Misfortune followed Rob Carr like a black cloud. I remember Ken's story about the time Rob was drunk and he got his car stuck in a snow bank. While people lifted the car and he attached a towline, the car came down on his balding head! Then there was the time he was drinking with Ron Mercy & Ron smashed Bob's head into a urinal for no reason. God had it in for Bob. But sometimes, Bob's actions would impact on others. Such it was one disco night at the Mess.

Everything was fine until the drunken Carr decides to steal a bottle of booze from behind the bar. Mike, the bartender I knew, must have spotted someone grab it from the corner of his eye, then lost the perpetrator in the crowd. He quickly searched the room & found the bottle under a table where several of our mates sat. Everyone there denied knowledge of the theft. Mike gave them the opportunity for the guilty party to fess-up. Bob just sat there, stupefied. I recall going over to Mike to try & diffuse the situation, but he was pissed by their silence. He called in the MPs. Several of our people were taken to the MP shack for interrogation. I believe that Dave Cooper & Dougy Wilkins were among them and spent a few hours there. Eventually, either someone ratted on Bob or he confessed. When they returned to the Mess later, they didn't want to talk about the ordeal. I don't know if Bob was fined or banned from the Mess for awhile. The group could have ostracized Rob, but it was just another bonehead move on his part. I think he joined the Reg Force later on. God bless him & God help us.

The Army Summer Camp

Summer Camp resumed in 1981. But it was vastly different. It was held in Petawawa with the choppers. Apparently, the squadrons lived in tents & had to perform guard duty on the helicopters with rifles. Living, working, & eating "in the field" didn't appeal to me. I dodged this Camp but heard all about it when the squadrons resumed activity at Downsview in the fall. This may have been the summer that members also participated in chopper exercises with the US Army at Fort Drum, NY. I know that Ron Collins from 411 was one of them, as he talked about the experience. This summer I was promised Germany (again). Instead, I signed up for courses at McMaster in Hamilton to complete my BA. It was great to be living at home & seeing old high-school friends. Also nice to dry out from all the drinking I would otherwise be doing!

Following the Group

The parties went on. The group had numerous outings. The gang was getting larger with younger players. Dave Cooper was still chasing Ronnie Swift. His brother Rob was pursuing the young Yolanda. Cam was doing the young Mary-Sue. She didn't cling to him & he liked that. Gigi & Colin were an item. You could follow the group to Cypress Lake Provincial Park. Dave & Dougy liked going there. But I felt that the group didn't care if some of us came or not, just that the RV gave them an indoor bathroom for those in tents. A couple of times I followed the group. Andy & I went with them to see the Bill Murray movie "Stripes". I recall it well. The "urban assault" RV piqued my interest. As did "the spatula treatment". Mud wrestling was also featured in the movie. Perhaps this is what gave Colin an idea later on for the Spring Slop? I remember the clan was going to see "The Rocky Horror Picture Show". I had already done this cult phenomenon with the university crowd. More often, I was declining to follow the crowd. There was nothing there for me. The likes of Andy & I had little influence on the group.

On Thanksgiving, Ken, Cam & I took the RV to MacGreggor Point Provincial Park on Lake Huron, along with my dog. The name had significance, reminding us of Greg MacGreggor in the RSU. It felt great playing guitar with this small bunch of guys & going to a place that was my idea. The group would later follow each other to cottage country. Not my cup of tea - getting a cottage just to stay close as northern neighbours.

The Mock Court Martial

It was just another flying weekend. We had lunch at the Mess. Back at the hangar, it became obvious that a few personnel had not returned from lunch. Kevin Lockett (who by now probably attained the rank of Warrant Officer) was concerned with this tardiness. He said curtly to Dave Cooper & I, "Come with me". We returned to the Mess. There in the bar sat Mo, Cam & Tom Idiott, all drinking. Lockett said to Dave & I that we were to note who & what we saw. He then ordered the three amigos to accompany us back to work.

A flurry of activity ensued. I was advised that I was to testify in Court-Martial proceedings. My three colleagues were being charged with drinking on duty or some such charge. I sat outside the "Court Room" awaiting my summons. When I was brought in, I was ordered to answer questions. I felt awful at the prospect of ratting-on my buddies. I had considered playing stupid, making statements like "I don't recall", when asked what I had seen. But Lockett knew exactly what I saw & probably would put me on charges for perjury. So I made light of these proceedings. When asked to identify who had been at the Mess, I pointed assertively at each & said, "Him, him, & him! That's them all right! My God, they were DRINKING". I managed to make the accused smirk. I was dismissed. When all was said & done, the sentence was a mere warning. Not an official reprimand. Not a fine of so much as a day's pay. Nothing! They put us through that ordeal just to put the fear of God into three of their favourites. I kept thinking of the position they put me into. What a farce this was. The RSU handled the tardiness after lunch issue - without the theatrics. Had I lied on the stand, they might have come down hard on me, while these three went unscathed. Everyone laughed about it afterwards. But I didn't think it was so funny. Particularly, in light of events that followed.

Chopper Pilot Candidates

It was announced that pilots were needed for the helicopters & candidates would be selected for the Short-Short Program. I had hoped this would happen. I made it known that I was thrilled at the prospect. When the selection was made public, it was unbelievable. At least for me. The squadron chose Mo, Tom, and Cam - the same three who had become cocky, took liberties, and had been "charged"! It was deemed that they had the "right stuff", not the witnesses (the defenders of the faith) like Dave Cooper or I. But then it all made sense. The squadron couldn't put any black marks on the guys who would soon be our honoured pilots. Their selection had already been a done deal, so the Mock Court Martial was just to get them to straighten up & fly right. They would be our Officers & gentlemen.

The irony was that all three declined the offer! Neither one was interested in flying & giving up 16 months to the training. The chosen ones told them to stick it. Perhaps that farce of a Court-Martial backfired on the powers-that-be? Maybe the three were pissed at the embarrassment? So, rather than choosing alternates, giving some of us another chance, 400 Squadron decided that they wouldn't sponsor anyone. No one else was worthy, or so was the message given.

This was an incredible letdown. At the end of 1981, it was also clear that I wouldn't be considered as an Engineering Officer Cadet for the Squadron either. Rejection had become a way of life there.

I remember being in charge of a group of GMT Privates in Servicing during the Otter period. I believe that Rob Cooper was part of the bunch. Sgt Jim Train couldn't come up with anything more creative for them to do than to sweep the hangar, again. After the third time, the group's morale was lousy. They thought they were being punished. I suggested to the Sarge that I could do some meaningful training on an APU, something, and anything, to make them feel they were accomplishing something. He'd have no part of it. He ordered me to have them sweep, "because I told you so", or there would be consequences. That drunk who had lost his driver's license wouldn't entertain any ideas, simply because he had the power to make people miserable. There was yelling & I did it under protest. Even in the Fire Service, I continued to look after my crew. It's not "chain of command" or "policy & procedures" that gets you out of a burning building; it's your crew. Rank has its privileges but not simply for you. For the well being of your crew.

Maybe this incident gave me a reputation of being an obstinate malcontent. Perhaps. I just knew that a lot of Privates didn't stick around. We had a way of discouraging, rather than encouraging people - unless you were someone's relative, a good partyer, etc. - we'd un-motivate the motivated. The RSU were professional & relaxed airmen, while at the squadrons people played at being airmen.

Those that used the experience here as a stepping stone to being pilots, they went on to bigger & better things. Private Rahman in that group who swept the hangar, he quit & went on to the RAF as a pilot. But if you stayed here, you were pegged. Your loyalty put you in a box and you went nowhere.

Sure, if you stayed for 12 years, you'd get the Canadian Decoration (CD) for your loyalty, "for 12 years of undetected crime" as some said. I was beginning to feel I couldn't last four years. Changes in any hierarchy are slow. The prospect of waiting around for it was untenable. Early in 1982 I would make my exodus. And someone would leave with me the same day.

Next Episode: "1982 and Beyond". This is the final chapter of the series. Completion sometime this Fall. Stay tuned!

The Gagetown Blues

2011-06-17T04:09:00.000-07:00

Below is a reprint of a chapter from my Air Force memoirs.

"ON GUARD"
By Fred Kuzyk. Copyright 2001-2002, Freddy The K Communications. No reproduction without permission.

The Gagetown Blues

"Well I'm a gonna raise a fuss and I'm gonna raise a holler
About spending all summer at Gagetown just to try 'an earn a dollar
I call up this lady in Fredericton and I got myself a date
But the Sarge says: "no dice son, you gotta worka late"
CHORUS:
Sometimes I wonder what I'm a gonna do 'cause there ain't no cure for the Gagetown Blues"
-From "The Gagetown Blues" lyrics by Freddy K, 1980. Based on "Summertime Blues" by Eddie Cochrane.

I arrive down in Oromocto. Although the town of Gagetown is nearby, the base is actually at Oromocto. Yeah, I guess "CFB Gagetown" sounds better than "Oromocto". But a shit-hole by any other name would still smell as crappy. And this one is the biggest army base in the Commonwealth. Gagetown's only claim to fame was that the Yanks supposedly tested Agent Orange defoliant on its vast forests before being used in Vietnam. Not much of a history compared to North Bay and Chatham. It sure wasn't like Baden in Germany! Lockett gave us the directions on where I'd find the place. I check-in with 403 Helicopter Operational Training Squadron. They were expecting us. I'm told to get squared away with a room & other details. So I report to Base Administration. It seems there's a foul up. Our documents haven't arrived. Without the docs, there's no pay! The best they can do for lodging is rooms at Transient Quarters. As I drive down streets looking for our building, I dodge Leopard tanks. The base is huge. I find our Mess where we'll have our meals - an unappealing, white stone building. There are several of these. Eventually I find our quarters. Another large, old, multi-floor, stone building. I quickly find this is an Army base from the pre-unification mold. The Spartan rooms contain several bunk beds. We have a couple of militia types sharing our room, who looked about as pleased about the surroundings as I was.

I run into Andy & Sherman out in the parking lot. Sherman's brand-new 1980 Mazda RX7 looks fantastic. They're checking the oil, as the car was going through copious quantities on the trip down. Sherman was breaking-in the wankel engine on the ride, so they weren't doing constant or excessive speed on the journey. Still, they made pretty good time. I tell Andy about the paper-work debacle. He's senior and perhaps his clout can help expedite matters. He gets on the phone to Toronto & talks to the top banana at the 400 Orderly Room, Coralee "Corky" Loosely. Corky is an older woman who normally is cool, efficient, and professional. A Warrant Officer with years of experience. I think she was having a nervous breakdown that day. Andy didn't get any satisfaction, just a long monologue about how the Squadron is swamped. SHE didn't make all the last minute changes and Corky is caught in the middle with everyone dumping on her. "This helo conversion is hell with personnel scattered all over the place, yadda, yadda". Andy has a short fuse to begin with & the SNAFU has got him yelling. I sense the nightmare is just beginning!

This is going nowhere fast. At least I have a credit card that can get us cash advances. We go to the Mess for our first meal and it's putrid. It's gruel on a platter. After this tantalizing feast we head to the Junior Ranks. It's huge & it's packed with Militia units that are on summer exercises here. There are a few women in army combat fatigues, chugging beer with their buddies. They're heavy & ugly, loud and raucous. A couple of these "babes" throw us glances as we sit at our own table, trying to disappear. The vibe is definitely not good. Back to the shack, we try and settle in for the night. I remember the hallway light streaming into the room through the skylight above the door. In the middle of the night, I awake to the sound of breaking glass. There are shouts & more breaking glass. It sounds like a riot. We're all awake now, including our two quiet army companions. We look into the hallway and see MPs. Eventually things quiet down. We have to be at work at 7AM, bright-eyed & bushy-tailed to service choppers, so we try to get back to sleep.

We see the destruction when we rise. There are broken skylights above room doors. The common room TV tube has been kicked-in & the room trashed. I imagine a prison riot caused by taking away cigarettes from the inmates must look similar to this scene. We get the whole story. Some Militia animals here for the short-term were tossing Frisbees against the glass skylights breaking them. Some Officer Cadet tried to intervene with these drunks & a large fight ensued. Resulting in the MPs being called to restore order. A few of the troublemakers were placed in the brig. This certainly wasn't the same kind of tolerable disturbance as the rattling of windows by the Voodoos. This situation was not tenable. There was no way I was going to last a few months in this barracks. We had to get out of this zoo. .

We become introduced to our new workplace at the 403 Squadron. The facilities are relatively new. A couple of metal hangars, secluded in the bush. Kiowas & Twin Hueys were our aircraft. A couple of the Kiowas were fitted with rocket pods on their skids or with the Mini Tat, the machine gun turret operated by remote control. At least we had some firepower here! An old Sergeant was our supervisor. He seemed more interested in which brand of roto-tiller he'd buy for his garden, as he thumbed through catalogs. They operated two shifts here: 7AM to 3PM & 3PM to 11PM. We'd take turns doing days and afternoons. The squadron mates were all Maritimers, a lot of them from Newfoundland. When asked where we were from I said, "T.O.". One of the group replies "Ah Truro, nice town, bye". "Sorry", I say. "Toronto, not Truro". We were like aliens in another world. Completely foreign to their understanding. It took some time to get use to their manner of speech and sayings. "A three-carter wrench" was a "three-quarter" wrench. "No-can- see-ums" meant the tiny fruit flies. I remember one fellow in particular. His name was Eldon - "like the toys", he would say. He looked & talked like Andy of Mayberry, slow & relaxed. They were all cordial but it was a close-knit, closed bunch. They had a small canteen in the hangar where a woman made western sandwiches & other great lunch items, so at least we didn't have to drive to the awful Mess for a snack.

We discussed our quarters with the Warrant Officer at the squadron, but we didn't make any headway regarding a change. We weren't getting anywhere with Base Admin, either. As far as they were concerned, we were here only for a short period, so Transient Quarters were all we rated. At the first opportunity, I drove the 16 miles to the University of New Brunswick at Fredericton. As a student, I knew of the campus there & also knew there would be a glut of available dormitory rooms for the summer. These were palatial in comparison. Single occupancy rooms, clean, modern - with private baths. The rent was incredibly cheap. There wasn't many people in residence but there was even a few pretty women, as the building was co-ed! We snapped-up three rooms. We'd simply commute to work. I remember getting shit from the Squadron Warrant when they found out we'd moved out of our lavish accommodations on base. You simply couldn't just move out "from the acceptable facilities the base had generously provided" for us without permission or notification. Well we did & the deed was done. We had to go through some more paperwork but the matter was closed. After a week or so, our pay & travel expenses were finally settled. By this time we had considered ourselves divorced from the base. We were now visiting airmen whose mind set was that we lived off base as individuals.

Visitors From Home

Sherman was missing Tony Cardoni. The two were an item at 411 for years. Unlike many of the girls, Tony was a dedicated technician & she was devoted to Sherman. She was far from being a player with a new guy each week. Sometimes her devotion cost her. I remember working with her on B class at Downsview and a couple of the RSU superiors were giving her a hard time. They had her in tears. It wasn't because of her work. After she had left crying, these guys went on about how it wasn't right that a nice Italian girl like her was shacked-up with a black guy. My opinion of these prejudiced rednecks dropped like a rock from "Angels Fifty". Tony & Sherman's personal life wasn't their business & wasn't an excuse to whip her. Many years later, Wild Bill, who knew Tony & Sherman well, said that their relationship faltered that summer. I just knew that Sherman missed her and he wondered if someone in Germany was making the move on her. Things may never have been the same for them since but they remain in contact as friends to this day.

Andy was lonely too. He missed Joanne Pilsener, that chunky, loud, and sometimes obnoxious lady. At least she was rude to me most of the time. She wasn't much of a catch in my estimation, and was a comedown for Andy after Cheryl & Betty. Still, Joanne must have had something going for her, as guys did go after her. Andy liked big boobs & she did have them! Some speculated she must have given good head. It's rumored that she screwed Al Cooper on a camping trip at Cyprus Lake. This was sometime after Gagetown when Andy was back in New Brunswick on the Spruce BudWorm gig. The same weekend Pilsener was coming on to both Cam & I in my family's motor home. She wanted a threesome while Andy was away! She was drunk & I knew how Andy felt about her. I told her to take a hike. That's when she visited Al's tent. We had a code of honour - you don't mess with a buddy's girlfriend. At least some of us believed that. Apparently Al Cooper didn't. I think it was Confucius who said, "a hard cock has no conscience" It wasn't the last time a brother would screw another brother's woman. My opinion of Jo nose-dived after that. Andy & her did end as a couple. She later married Pete Bannister. She left the squadron when Pete was posted to the West Coast.

Anyway, on a certain weekend Joanne came to visit Andy at Fredericton with their little fur-ball dog. He was happy. She was actually pleasant to me on this occasion. I figure it was because Andy & I had become close. On the same weekend, a lady who was an old high school friend of Sherman's came to visit him. I didn't know it, but it seems that Sherman was a bit of a playboy. Many women wanted & had him. Unlike Cam, Sherman didn't kiss & tell, keeping his relations discreet. Cam thrived on his reputation as a womanizer. There was a park in Fredericton, Mactequac or something like that, which had a beautiful golf course as well as a beach area on the river. All of us spent a day there. My two companions were elated with having female companionship. The weekend ended too soon & they were back to their loneliness. I was lonely too. Not because I missed anyone in particular. I was lonely because I had no one at the time. I coped with it better than the other two for that reason.

The weeks wore on. We amused ourselves & found things to do. Oromocto was another town that didn't have much. We'd heard about a piano bar in Fredericton, the Club Cosmo, was the best place around. Run by people from Montreal, Club Cosmo was a ritzy place that we couldn't afford to make a habit of, but still a nice place to visit the odd time. There were more affordable pubs on campus. Sherman did more & more of his own thing, while Andy & I continued to do more things together. Maybe because Sherman might have been on the opposite shift to us. Although Sherman & Andy did visit Calais Maine together. The American border wasn't that far & I think they were curious to see what was on the other side. While in Chatham, Andy & I had found a music shop where I had gotten some sheet music & guitar accessories. In Fredericton, we found another shop. I found some items of interest, including a kazoo. Andy bought a recorder, a small wind instrument, and set about to try & learn to play it. I found a deck of tarot cards somewhere, and attempted to read fortunes. We'd go to the movies. "Airplane" was hilarious. "Return of the Jedi" we really enjoyed that as Star Wars fans. Andy did a great impersonation of Yoda - "A Jedi Knight you are not. You must focus the force, young Skywalker". We'd also repeat lines from "The Blues Brothers" movie. "We're on a mission from God". There was a driving range beside the river where we could whack some balls. We whiled away our time.

I actually enjoyed the shifts. Being off at 3 PM allowed you to do things like a round of golf before dark. And starting at 3 PM on afternoons gave time to do things in the morning or hit the beach before work, and you still could go drinking afterwards. Oromocto had a nine hole golf course that I played a few times. The course wasn't that great but the staff was. Well, at least one lady was. A stunning blonde in her mid twenties worked in the Pro Shop. She really didn't belong here. It was like finding "Billy-Jo" or "Bobby-Jo" in the "Shady Rest Hotel" in TV's "Petticoat Junction". This beauty didn't belong in this rural Canadian backwater. She never said much. She didn't have to. We made brief conversation but I never got up the nerve to find out if she was available for me. I fantasized about her though! I sensed that she was attached to the owner. She also seemed like she was marooned here, waiting for her ticket out to Toronto, Montreal, or Stateside. Waiting for some promising golf pro to come along & she'd blow this place, following him on tour. I seriously doubt that goddess stayed in Oromocto to spend her best years there.

We found there were a lot of differences here from home. Cheap lobster was available everywhere. You could buy it off the back of pick-up trucks at the roadside. For $2 you could get a giant one. But you couldn't get a decent pizza. There just weren't many Italians here. Pizza places were hard to come by & they didn't have the chain parlours we had at home, like "Pizza Nova" or "Pizza Pizza", "Mother's", etc. When we did find a rare place, such as "Pizza Delight", it was expensive & god-awful. Donairs, or what we'd know as Gyros, on the other hand, were everywhere! The Fredericton A & W Drive -In did good business. I think they still had carhops on roller skates. While the drive-in A & W's in Southern Ontario were gone, due to changing times & demographics, the 1950's still existed in New Brunswick. It was neat to have a Teen Burger & a glass mug of root beer sit on a tray on my car window again! Good fun to steal the mugs once again!

My old car was far from perfect. The engine had miles on it & the rings were worn. A lot of blow-by went past those rings & was routed through the PCV valve back into the cylinders. The engine would miss as the plugs became fouled. I lived with it but it was a frequent chore to either clean & re-gap them or install another set. One day I needed something for the Mustang, whatever it was wasn't critical, but was the kind of thing that I could get at any Canadian Tire back home. It probably was the plastic piece that held the horn ring on the wheel. There were a ton of the early Mustangs still on the road & these parts broke all the time. Except the sole Canadian Tire here in the Fredericton area didn't stock it. They suggested I go to the one Ford dealer in the vicinity. So I did & they tell me that the part would have to be ordered from Oakville & would take about six weeks! Gee, by that time I'd be back in Burlington, next door to Oakville, and I could get the part anywhere. I began to realize that we took a lot of things for granted, living in the industrial heartland of Southern Ontario!

Sherman was less fortunate. His new Mazda needed warrantee service. There wasn't a dealer in the area. Hell, I think the only one in New Brunswick was in Saint John. So on a day off, Andy & I loaded up in one of our cars while Sherman drove the RX7 to that coastal city. This city is not to be confused with St. John's, Newfoundland. Two very separate towns. Saint John is a seaport on the south coast, on the Bay of Fundy. The same Saint John River that flows through Fredericton eventually winds its way down to this city, where the river meets the sea. It all kind of makes sense, doesn't it? Anyway, it's an old town and its history goes back to colonial days. Parts of it looked like the buildings would be at home in Boston or New York City. We dumped off the Mazda at the dealer & with the extra car we did some sightseeing. There were cobblestone streets and ships in the harbour. We did a good thing keeping Sherman company, otherwise he would have been stuck at the dealership. We had lunch & I recall seeing the Reversing Falls. When the tide is low, the river flows over the falls into the sea. At high tide, the flow goes the opposite way and seawater goes over the dam, up the river. That pretty much was our day in Saint John.

There was a stock car track outside of town. One evening we decided to partake of the action. I'm unsure if Sherman joined Andy & I. The track was reminiscent of the local ones I frequented as a teen, like "Satellite Speedway" on the Stoney Creek Mountain, or "Flamborough Speedway" near Millgrove, north of Hamilton on highway 6. Loud, fast & fun. The demolition derby was a hit with the fans in the stands. The people were different than those at home. I vividly can picture a couple of men. They looked like they had just stepped off of a fishing trawler. One had those long "mutton chop" sideburns that were popular in an earlier age. He wore a jacket & cap like that of Captain Highliner, although he wasn't so old - maybe early thirties - and was smoking a pipe. This prompted some jokes amongst ourselves. Parodies of TV commercials. "Captain HIND GRINDER" jokes, such as "Have you ever been to sea Billy? No Captain. Well I'll show you how to get blown ashore." Or "bend over, and I'll give you a fish stick in batter, Billy!"

I came to learn that K. C. Irving owned this Province. His legacy was all over the place. From the "Irving" gas stations everywhere, to the shipping in Saint John, to the ultra-conservative newspapers he owned, like the Fredericton Daily Gleaner. Nary a negative word could appear in that paper about Irving Oil, McCain Foods, or Standfield underwear. These companies, like Sobey's food markets, were good Maritime businesses & what was good for Irving, was good for Maritimers. There did seem to be a lot of poor people here. Not immigrants but third or fourth generation Canadians, and many on welfare or pogey. The Province was truly bilingual. The French predominantly in the north & the English in the south. The English speaking ones struck me as being the wild "Yahoo" types. Forinstance, I remember a group of young guys driving their beat-up cars into the surf on a beach. They were seeing which car would go the furthest distance, before the engine conked out or the car submerged. A buddy with a tow truck & a winch would haul them back. They'd open their doors & salt water would pour out. Crazy! This was also the kind of place where girls got knocked-up at 16 and were abandoned at 17 or 18, as their boyfriends left them to go west (Ontario, Quebec or Western Canada) to find work. But the many single mothers were happy, as long as the Legion was open, the fiddle music played, and the child support cheques kept coming.

I'd also learned that military types weren't well liked at the University of New Brunswick. Apparently, there had been a dispute a few years earlier between Armed Forces personnel & UNB students that turned into a feud and came to a head with massive fights. It didn't surprise me. Riots & fights seemed to be the norm here. Ron Mercy & his brothers came by it naturally - they were English & from the south.

Letters From Germany

Cam wasn't much for writing letters. But Dave Cooper & I swapped a few. I'd send off mine with a return address of "403 HOTS" or "403 HOT Squadron". I liked the sound of that. I'd get Dave's letters from 444 Squadron via airmail. It was not the same as being there but I was informed of what I was missing in Europe. I heard about the lads doing "hot refueling" (quick fueling of the choppers while they were running). The "Triple Four" squadron's badge featured a cobra. This snake had a nickname & was the mascot for the unit. A replica of the reptile was present at an indoctrination ceremony, at which our boys drank its "venom". It sounded like a big piss-up but after performing this ritual, our guys were then accepted into the unit. The 403 didn't have any such bonding rituals, unfortunately.

More interesting were their exploits off of the base. There was a club nearby that was popular amongst the Canadian servicemen. It sounded quite risqué. Pornographic films & shows were common & legal. "When in Rome…", as they say! The German prostitutes loved to sit with guys & have them buy drinks. The girls only drank small, expensive bottles of champagne called Piccolos. Beer just wouldn't do. Years later, the Minister of National Defense of that time was visiting the Canadian base & made an impromptu visit to this same club. The news story developed into a huge scandal, which damaged his political career. The poor sap merely went where every other Canadian did!

I recall Colin recounting how the Deutschers were enthralled with the U.S. TV show "Dallas". Many of them assumed that the Canucks, being from North America, had the inside scoop and could tell them "who shot J.R."? They'd have to wait for the Fall season to find out, just like everyone.

The lads bought Eurorail passes and with the ample time-off they received from work, they traveled all over Europe by train. I saw photos & heard about the travels to Switzerland, Holland, the UK, and other countries. There were accounts of the Red Light District in Amsterdam. Live sex shows abounded. There was a system involving the working girls that used mirrors. I was told that mirrors were positioned outside of windows above street level that were angled into the street. This allowed potential street customers to see what the available girls looked like, as they sat in their rooms. When the girls were occupied, the mirror was tilted away. A simple, effective system for your shopping pleasures. K-Mart was never like that.

There was a humorous incident at some border. The Iran Hostage Crisis was ongoing at the time. The lads were crossing a border with Bill Khyber. Bill was certainly of Iranian descent and drew suspicion from the authorities. I think a tense delay occurred as Bill was given a thorough third degree interrogation. Not everyone has the dubious experience of being treated like a suspected terrorist!

In comparison, our adventures in New Brunswick couldn't hold a candle. It was nice to receive the reports, though. Eventually, Lahr & Baden bases closed. Becoming memories like the other Canadian bases in Europe, which closed earlier. 444 Squadron still exists as a helicopter squadron at Goose Bay, Labrador. The present posting must be a disappointment to any veterans in the unit who served while in Germany. I wonder if they still conduct the venom ceremony?

And Then There Was One

Andy & Sherman had only committed so much time for OJT. There were jobs to return to in Toronto. I think they were eager to get the hell home. I had slated to work until the end of August (which was originally meant for quality time in Europe) and had several weeks left to go. I don't remember their departure but I believe they both left the same day. Andy probably said something like, "hang in there, little brother". Andy often called me that. Although I was older, he liked seeing himself as my bigger brother. Anyway, they were gone & the last guy from Toronto felt he was now on his own. Andy kept in touch. He'd send Care packages from home that contained Sunshine Girls from the Toronto Sun newspaper.

Shortly after they left, I went solo one night to a club. It was Ladies Night at the Legion. An older crowd was present. A woman collected my admission at the door & acted as a greeter. She was friendly and asked me home, when the evening was over. Sandy was thiry-ish and lived alone in the attic apartment of a house. Cozy quarters she had. We began seeing more of each other. She took me to a local tourist attraction called King's Landing, which was similar to Black Creek Pioneer Village. Historic buildings, people in costume demonstrating what life was like in earlier days. One evening I took her to see "Airplane", one of the films I had seen with Andy. It was still funny the second time. Then she took me out for a lobster dinner at a posh restaurant. I had limited experience with lobster & then only the tails. I was stunned when the waiter placed a bib on me & fetched various tools that looked like picks & nutcrackers. Then the whole lobster was presented before me, beady eyes staring at me and massive claws pointing in my direction! I discovered the reason for the bib. Sandy guided me through the process. I was told not to eat the greenish material in the head. To get the meat out of the little legs you sucked it out like a straw. It was a lot of work but I now knew how to wrestle with one of these beasts.

I was spending more time at Sandy's small flat than I was at my college residence. Things were getting rather domestic. We'd watch the TV news like a married couple. Jimmy Carter delivering a speech about the Iranians or the Iran-Iraq war. Premiere Richard Hatfield of New Brunswick is now on the tube. Sandy says that they've fattened him-up while he's been in office & it's time he was voted out. She's convinced he's gay. Him & Rock Hudson. I'm skeptical. We'd have sex & Sandy would immediately fall asleep. She snored. Probably because she was a few pounds overweight. She showed me photos once from several years earlier when she was a hot, young babe. Sandy had once been a biker chick. So this is what happens when they get too old to strip?

Pugwash

Willy Morris showed up one day at the base. He was passing through on his way to his family's cottage in Nova Scotia. Willy asks if I'd like to come for the weekend and I jumped at the offer. We head towards Moncton then turn southerly to the Nova Scotia border. I recall that the highway improved once we entered the other Province. Not too far past the border we come to the town of Springhill. Willy has friends or family here that we stop to visit. The people are proud that this is the hometown of singer Anne Murray. From Springhill, we head a few miles east towards the Northumberland Strait and arrive at the hamlet of Pugwash. We're still only a few miles from the New Brunswick border. Willy's cottage is a simple but comfortable one that's quite close to the water's edge. Out of view offshore is Prince Edward Island. What a pleasant setting on this peaceful shore.

Willy was with 411 Squadron. He was a gentle soul - always smiling & happy. The kind of guy that would never hurt a fly. I can't recall ever seeing him upset about anything. He had an effeminate nature. Some thought he was gay. I didn't care if he was but I knew he had the hots for a girl named Gloria from the Reserve, so I didn't believe he was. I'd also heard a story from Cam about Willy. He liked girls all right. Cam was bunking with Willy somewhere. Cam comes to the room & hears high-pitched screams & moans. When he opened the door, he saw a lady giving Willy head. It was Willy who sounded like a girl screaming! Maybe the story doesn't prove conclusively that Willy wasn't gay. But he was with a girl. There's no such thing as a bad blowjob, though! I had worked with Willy at the RSU for a bit but the thing I remember best about him was his dancing at the Thursday night Mess discos. He was a dancing machine. A "bionic man" that seemed tireless & he knew all the moves & line dances. I'd kid him that he was like the "Six million dollar man" of dance. I also called him "Little Willie", as in the early 70's song of the same name by the group "The Sweet". "Little Willie, Willie won't go home, but you can't push Willie around, Willie won't go". Anyway, I got to know Willy better on this weekend. We talked about different things. He had what looked like a burn or scar above the left eye on his forehead. I asked him how he got that. Apparently he drank bleach when he was a toddler. I guess he was lucky to be alive. I remember looking for shells in the surf & the sound of the wind while going to sleep at night. Willy was an excellent host. I felt recharged after my stay with him at Pugwash and was ready to cope back at Gagetown. I've not seen Willy in some 20 years. I'd heard that he got serious with Gloria at some point & that she took him for a ride. Not the first time that a nice guy was chewed-up by one of the Reserve's cuties. Willy is presently serving in the Regular Force at Trenton.

Baggage

Sandy was another single mother. She had a nine-year-old daughter that she wanted me to meet. The girl didn't stay with her but lived with an older woman elsewhere. I thought this whole arrangement was weird. We go to a hotel along the Trans-Canada Highway; a place where I believe Sandy works at the coffee shop. They have an indoor pool there. I meet her daughter & the girl's guardian. She likes to swim something that Sandy doesn't do, so I swim with her. Everything goes all right until we all have some lunch in the restaurant. The girl throws a tantrum and becomes hostile. When I try to intervene the girl lashes out at me. "You're not my father", she screams. Indeed, I wasn't. Nor did I want to be her surrogate father. Eventually she is settled down by the older woman, who then leaves with the girl. Sandy's visit with her progeny is over for this time.

I don't know what Sandy's agenda was in this. I suppose to see if her daughter would like me. If that was the case, it backfired. The situation was not clearly spelled out for me. I don't know if her daughter had special needs or if Sandy just didn't want the daughter at her home as the girl cramped her style. I was emotionally drained by the experience. The girl was messed-up, it seemed to me. Nothing was mentioned about her father. Perhaps she didn't have one in her life? Her mother was not really there for her either, as she was "farmed out" to this other woman. Maybe the girl had been introduced to some of Sandy's other suitors & she hated them all? I don't know but I couldn't handle this at my tender age. Sandy wanted me to move in with her but now I needed my own space. Returning to my lonely, single lifestyle was preferable. I craved being back at my dorm room, playing my guitar & getting back on my exercise program. The incident with her daughter settled it. It was time to say good bye to Sandy.

Swinging Moncton

After the other lads left, I came across a magazine called "The Fundy Times". This was a swinger's publication from Nova Scotia. There were no photos but it had sexual ads in it from throughout the Maritimes. There were categories for every kink, including S&M for those bad boys who needed a spanking. There were a few ladies & couples seeking single men. I wrote to a couple of ads that held promise. I decided that honesty was best, rather than describing myself as some sort of super stud like John Holmes with a foot long hunk of man-meat. I gave these ladies the straight goods and mentioned my love of lingerie, that I was a leg man, and that I could keep it up for a long time. Hey, that was true. I was near my sexual peak & often could keep it up for hours. Sandy's falling asleep on me made me hungry for a woman who could go the distance. I had a photo of myself, which Andy had taken earlier, at the beach with my camera. I made a few copies & sent them off with the letters to the box numbers at the magazine. A short while later, I received a response letter from one of the ladies. A Polaroid colour photo fell out from the letter. It showed a buxom, hefty, young redhead in a cheesecake shot taken in her kitchen. She wore a small apron around her waist & nothing else. A staged, pin-up type photo in which she was reaching up with one arm to grab something from an open cabinet, while the other arm was on her hip & one leg was bent like a flamingo. Very nice! The letter went on to say that they were an open-minded couple in their early twenties. They did same room swinging & threesomes but that she would like to meet me singly. She was into just about everything except pain. The letter said that she "just loves to suck a nice cock for hours" (Oh yeah, baby! With her words and picture, I could hardly contain my hand from my stiffening tool. She knew this. She knew exactly what men wanted.). She didn't travel or entertain at home but if I'd like to come to Moncton and get a room, she was game to make love all evening. Her name was Donna. I don't know if this was her actual name. Many people use assumed names for the sake of anonymity. Even myself, I had used only my middle name in the letters. I was keen to call her right away & get things rolling!

I got Donna on the phone. She was polite and pleasant. She knew I was a first-timer & was patient. She was available this weekend. So was I. Donna suggested a place & time to meet, Saturday afternoon at a restaurant called the "Bells & Buoys". It has a nautical theme, even though Moncton is land-locked. I get the directions & tell her I can hardly wait. She giggled. I guess I sounded like an excited schoolboy.

Saturday morning, I pack a bunch of necessities. Camera, liquor, smokes, and cassette deck & tapes for music. I'm wearing my gold chains, jade butterfly & Egyptian ankh for decoration & luck. I hit the road for Moncton, full of anticipation. The possibility is very real for sex with the perfect stranger.

I arrive at the restaurant a little early. We had each other's photo, so we recognized each other when she entered. We had also described what we'd be wearing. She was dressed in black, a black T-shirt & slacks. She wore glasses & her shoulder-length hair was curlier than in the photo. We order lunch & get to know each other. I guess I expected that she would act slutty like a stripper & would grab my cock right under the table. Instead, I found that she was shy, intelligent, and quiet - the perfect demure lady. She seems awkward at small talk but I get her to talk about some of her experiences & she's had far more than I have. She's a couple of years younger than myself but this submissive lady has been trained like the girl in "The Story of O", in areas I could only dream of. She knows the players in the area's swinging circuit and warns me about a couple in Nova Scotia who are active. She warns me that they have a fully equipped dungeon for bondage, humiliation, and S&M games. They seem nice enough but then they play rough. I ask her where her husband is tonight. She replies that he'll be with one of her girlfriends. It is a very open marriage, indeed! I think she tells me that they both like her & he hopes that they can arrange a threesome with the girlfriend sometime. I'm beginning to think I've got nothing in common with Donna. Her lifestyle seems a tad intimidating for me. And she seems hesitant and detached towards me. Just when things seem the most awkward, she takes off her glasses, looks me in the eye with her green, puppy dog eyes, glances down at the table and says shyly, "I think your attractive. I'd really like to spend the night with you, if that's OK. Would you like to get a room?" I say, "my pleasure". She smiles.

There are motel rooms next to the restaurant. We're on the main road on a ridge that overlooks part of the city. I come back with a key. Donna has a small piece of luggage with her. I get my stuff from my car. While I set some stuff up, she goes to the bathroom to change & freshen up. I've got some music playing & a couple of drinks ready. I'm lying on the bed in my underwear when she emerges. Donna is a beautiful sight in garter belt, stockings, and a demi-bra that supports her ample breasts from below. She's also wearing elbow length velvet gloves. Donna slowly crawls on the bed at my feet and makes her way to my face where she kisses me. Then she dangles her nipples to my lips, while a gloved hand strokes my hard dick. Donna is now in her element. The shy lady in public is the confident, sexy slut in the bedroom. She removes my underwear releasing my cock from its restraint. She coos, "what a nice cock" and goes down on it. Jackpot! The elusive blowjob has been finally realized! Donna is great. I'm on cloud nine. I have to repay the favour with a 69. Donna truly loves to please. In return, she's getting multiple orgasms. I'm far too excited to cum, so I do stay hard for extended periods. When it does get soft, we take breaks. She makes frequent trips to the bathroom to freshen-up, reapply perfume and lipstick, or make a lingerie change. Donna finds new and interesting ways to keep me aroused. From her bag of tricks she pulls out a vibrator, like a magician producing a rabbit from a hat. She rubs it against my cock. Good vibes! She has me insert it into her pussy while she sucks me. Afternoon becomes evening.

We do a nude photo shoot session. Some were posed, others were live action. She is game for anything. I could have had a trip around the world, but Greek didn't turn me on. Oral sex is what I wanted & Donna delivered in spades. She asks if I'd like her to talk dirty. "OK", I say. And she starts a monologue that would make the Happy Hooker blush. I mean I could now relate to how Cam felt when Janet gave him a similar verbal tongue-lashing in North Bay. Donna could see that some of the dirty talk like "fuck me harder, you bastard" was a bit humiliating for me. It was causing me to miss a beat with my humping, so the talk became more suggestive, such as how she liked the taste of my cock in her mouth, "please fuck my tits", etc. It was all wonderful ecstasy but the coupe de grace was when Donna asked if I'd like to fuck her mouth. So I straddled her breasts & began to hump her mouth. Her eyes looked up at me as I gave it to her deeply. It was a peculiar but erotic sight.

Donna stayed with me the entire night. I felt like I was the king of the world. Like I was the sultan of sex with my own harem. Like I was the high potentate, the high priest of perversion - I think you get the idea. My ego had gotten a big boost. I slept very well cuddled-up with her. The next morning I took her to breakfast. The quiet lady was back but now more smiling and relaxed. I just felt wonderful. We did a little sightseeing. I found a CF100 fighter jet mounted on a pedestal in a park. We stopped and I took some photos of Donna beneath the plane. She said that she really should be getting home. She was expected home last night and this was the first time she stayed out all night on such a date! She wanted to stay. I was quite flattered. Apparently, her hubby & girlfriend were worried about her & had been driving around looking for her! I believe that I gave her a ride home, as I don't think she had a car back at the motel. I thanked her sincerely for the experience. It was unbelievable. I kissed her on the lips, those same lips that had so eagerly worked on my cock.

On the ride out of town I began thinking about all the positive aspects of this encounter. No one was cheated on and no one was hurt. No feelings of guilt or dirty secrets to conceal. Nobody was talked into something they weren't ready for or didn't want. It was all open & above board. There weren't any of the arguments, fights, and nasty break-ups that often happen with relationships. None of the strings, commitments, or hidden agendas that women often employ. Donna wasn't out to rope me into matrimony, or to be a father for any kids, nor was she looking for a meal ticket to Ontario. She wasn't looking to mold or change me. And I didn't have to pay for it. I knew guys have used hookers, but they weren't for me. There were times that I was tempted, but I knew what hookers were like. They hated themselves and their addictions and hated their Johns even more. Donna didn't love me, what we had was lust. But she sincerely loved to please & be pleased. It was a symbiotic relationship. And I truly loved being with her. It was an affair I'd remember all my life. I'd come to know that not everything that's beautiful is good but everything that's good is beautiful. Donna was VERY good to me and that was beautiful. Whenever I think back on all the hurtful women I knew, I think of Donna and then the others fade to insignificance.

I never met her hubby, who was a working-class guy at the railroad about my own age, but what a gift he had given me. He'll never know. But then maybe he does. He had "trained" her even better than Cam was capable of with his ladies. I gained a new confidence. I also gained an appreciation for what married women were capable of. That night was better than any spent with single girls to date. I was inspired by the positive spin on this adventure to continue swinging when I returned to Ontario. Later on, I would have a couple of threesomes with some professional, executive type couples, which were also very rewarding. So while the Horvath brothers tried to achieve threesomes with barflies and Cam unsuccessfully tried talking Dorothy into a threesome, I found the guaranteed way was through ads from sober, like-minded people. It just took a little work to set-up. Discretion & honesty were the important factors to these folks. They needed people who wouldn't expose their private desires, or who would create complications.

I found the famed Magnetic Hill in Moncton & checked it out. Parking the car in neutral at the bottom of the hill, the car began to roll backwards uphill. The water in the ditch also appeared to flow uphill. This was an optical illusion created by the surrounding topography but it was very convincing. I then drove down to Fundy National Park where the Bay of Fundy narrows. Here you get some of the highest movements of the tide in the world & the water comes rushing in like a tidal wave. It was low tide at present and boats sat on the dry bottom many feet below the docks. Pools of water remained where all manner of aquatic life were trapped until the tide returned. Columns of stone rose into the air that at other times were small islands, like the Flowerpots at Tobermory. A father & son rode their motorbikes on this vast expanse of ocean floor that sometime later would once again be flooded. It was a breathtaking vista. It was getting late & time I headed back to Fredericton.

I phoned Donna a week or so later to see how she was doing. And for the selfish reason of seeing if we could arrange another meeting in the week or two I had left. Donna was doing OK. Although her hubby was jealous that she stayed out all night and that she had a better time than he did. Apparently, her girlfriend wasn't much fun for him, holding herself back. That's understandable, as she knew both of them and that leads to complications - no matter how much she was told by both that "it was OK". Anyway, Donna wouldn't be able to go unescorted again. It would have to be same room swinging and I think she didn't want her hubby watching us (maybe he didn't want her to repeat with me again). Maybe this put an end to their swinging? Maybe their marriage later failed? Maybe their experimentation led to a stronger union that didn't require others? Who can say? It's just as well that we didn't have another session. I mean, we had done just about everything that was conventional. If we met again it would likely be just a repeat. Besides, we might get too attached. That could get complicated. The fantasy & mystery need to be separate from too much reality. Although, I wouldn't have minded an encounter with both Donna & her girlfriend. The ultimate threesome - two chicks & one guy, me. Reality would suggest that this was highly unlikely for me. But we all dream. That's the scenario that Donna's husband was working towards. Maybe he got his wish? Better yet, I would have liked to have traded places with him. I guess there's a bit of a scoundrel in us all, if we are allowed to be.

Final Days

Back at work, my cohorts said I should have visited the "sandbar", their name for PEI. As they thought Moncton wasn't anything special (little did they know). My time was drawing to a close at 403 Squadron. I did manage to service a few Sea Kings (or "Sea Things") and one day an American Air National Guard Huey dropped by & I talked with the crew. Warrant Grondin signed me off on PI's & other checks. A Change of Command Parade took place. I was exempted from having to wear a dress uniform & participating, I guess because I was a visitor. So I took photos. They had a band and the choppers hovered & did fly-pasts. After almost two months, the young guys of the unit finally accepted me enough that they invited me out with them. That's when I discovered that most of them were potheads & toked all the time. My last night after work they got me totally incapacitated.

Towards the end of my stay, I visited a place the locals told me about, Grand Lake. It was a large, clean lake, about half the way to Moncton. The water was still & clear. The kind of place where close-knit cottagers partied on their beach. Not a touristy spot at all. I never did see PEI. It just seemed too far away. Fredericton is the capitol of New Brunswick. I recall visiting the Provincial Legislature Building. There was also an art museum donated by Lord Beaverbrook, which I visited. Beaverbrook was the New Brunswicker that made a significant contribution to England during the war. Even the UNB campus had its share of history. Many of the buildings were old & ivy covered. This campus had far more character than the dreary concrete of my campus back at York University in Toronto. It was just so damn quiet here in the summer. I wrote a song, "The Gagetown Blues" as a means of recording some of our experiences here. I packed up my gear & memories & was ready to go home.

Chatham Revisited

I was in contact with Deb in Chatham. She knew I was done and was heading out this weekend. She convinced me to come back to Chatham & we'd make a weekend of it. I agreed. It was nice to see her again. She took me around to see Rosemarie & Suzy at work. All the girls had gotten over their "separation anxiety" from my Reserve mates. Or so it appeared. Debbie took me to a pool party at her relative's house. I played with the kids. She also took a niece & myself to a carnival that was in town. We played the games of chance & I think I won a stuffed animal for the girl. Debbie invited me to sleep over at her place. All was well and good. Then she dropped a bomb on me.

She asked me if she could catch a ride to Toronto with me. She has taken time off work and wants to surprise Cam with her visit. I had no problem with Deb's company for the drive but the more that she told me, the more concerned I was that her visit would be a real surprise, all right! She was still stuck on Cam and believed that she & he were an item. From her perspective, Cam had led her to believe she was the only lady for him. He obviously hadn't mentioned Dorothy. This was getting uncomfortable.

That evening Madame was as charming as ever. It was now quite late. We all were getting ready to turn in for the night when there was a knock at the door. A beautiful young woman enters with a baby in her arms. She's someone that Madame knows. The woman speaks to Madame about the bad mood her boyfriend is in & requests a safe haven here for the night. Of course Madame agrees. Her reputation for taking in strays must be universal. The woman is thankful & quarters are made for her & child. I've been given a small room & I turn in. Sometime in the middle of the night, I awake to sound of the throaty roar of a high performance car. The light from headlights cascades past the sheer curtains of my room, while the sound of squealing & spinning tires is heard outside. I look to see a car doing circles on the front lawn. Its spinning tires are chewing up the grass. By now, everyone else is awake & has gathered in the living room in their nightgowns. The young woman is deeply upset. "It's him", she says. "Somehow he's found me." It was then I learn that "him" was that bad-assed Mallet that we had been warned about. Madame is worried about the young woman's safety and feels she should call the police. But the woman says that we don't know what he's capable of & there will be hell to pay for her (and him) if the cops get involved. She's insistent that he won't leave without her, even to the point of a shoot-out with police. He won't go back to Dorchester Prison. "At times he is really a good man & a good father. It's just when he drinks. I can calm him down. It's better if I go with him". If she doesn't do it soon, he'll bust his way in.

I'm tempted to do something. But what? Madame & Debbie have no weapons and we're told that he does. I re-think the situation & decide to keep out of this domestic. The woman hurriedly packed up her belongings & baby, and was out the door. She got in the car & it raced off, burning rubber. Other neighbours watched the spectacle but did nothing besides watching. Perhaps they knew the car and the driver's reputation. The three of us looked at each other. There wasn't much to say, so we went back to bed. I doubt if any of us slept, after all of the excitement.

In the morning we surveyed the damage. Madame's kindness had been repaid with a torn-up lawn. No good deed goes unpunished. Somehow I feared that Debbie's kindness would be repaid only by a broken heart. She was upbeat about the adventure that lay ahead. But I could only see it turning out badly. We put her bags in the trunk. We both said goodbye to Madame. It would be the last time I saw her. We drove along the Miramichi for a bit, for my final time.

I don't know what became of any of those people in Chatham. But as we drove off, I hoped that the prick in the car from last night would get everything that was coming to him. That pretty, young lady surely could do better than being saddled with that violent convict. Like so many in the play we call "life", she had chosen a role in a tragedy. Me, well I prefer the comedies.

I was in a hurry to get home. There would be no sightseeing stops on this trip. Even with only quick stops for gas, restroom breaks, and eating hamburgs while driving, it would still take about 16 hours of continuous motoring. Debbie spelled me at the wheel for a bit on the earlier part of the journey. By the time we got towards Toronto it was dark. I was determined to do the driving in Ontario, as I knew the road. By this time, fatigue had taken hold. The poor night's sleep didn't help. I was having trouble staying awake. I didn't tell Deb but I was starting to hallucinate. I was seeing deer run across the 401 that just weren't there. Even 60 miles per hour seemed way too fast. Thankfully, we made it to Toronto. I forget where I dropped Debbie off. I'm sure I invited her to stay with my folks & I in Burlington. We had the space with a couple of unused bedrooms. But she had made other arrangements. Maybe it was with the Grinches or possibly over at the Coopers.

Back At Downsview

I know that Joe Grinch told his wife all about the girls in Chatham. Joe always honestly leveled with Marg about any ladies he met on his travels. I also know that Cam thought Joe was stupid on this account. Being totally honest with your spouse was a dumb move, in Cam's estimation. Even if your better half caught you with another woman in your bed, you denied, denied, and denied. Even as the other woman got dressed & walked out. He felt if you denied it enough, she would eventually disbelieve what her eyes had seen. I knew Cam hadn't told Dorothy a word about Debbie.

Driving all that way with Debbie, I had become pissed-off with Cam. How could he have led this girl on? She didn't get into specifics but revealed that Cam had been intimate with her (Cam would be intimate with most if they let him) and he told her things that suggested they had a future. She was looking forward to spending time with him & hoped for a long-term relationship. Knowing Cam, he probably fed her a bunch of lines like, "Baby you're the greatest. The only one for me". Terms of endearment that was lines of BS. Meant only for sex & not to be taken seriously. Only she had. Debbie was too plain & domestic for Cam and I knew things wouldn't gel. They weren't over yet.

The summer hiatus at the Wing & Squadrons was over. Thursday parade nights had resumed. We all had our stories to tell and there we were at the hangar & so was Debbie. A lot of the Chatham boys were glad to see her. Not Dorothy, who was doing a slow burn wondering who this woman was that seemed far too friendly towards Cam. He was being his usual life-of-the-party self. I pulled him aside at one point & let him know why Deb had come & how I felt about this. Cam protested that he hadn't done anything with her. It was all very innocent. He said he didn't even screw her. He did eat her out, just to be nice. He really had no interest in her. He kind of "did for the guys", so we'd have a place to party. Maybe it was her first time but he didn't lead her on or make any promises. He had no idea that she couldn't let go & would show up here. There was no relationship. Well this was something he'd have to sort out for himself. It sounded like he already had.

The group was making its way over to the Junior Ranks to party. I'm in the parking lot opening the door of my car. Suddenly, Dorothy is there beside me as I'm about to get in. She forcefully says, "slide over", as she gets into the car & closes the door. "Who is SHE?", she demands. This starts an interrogation that lasts an hour or more. Great, Dorothy refuses to leave and grabbed the keys from the ignition so I can't leave either. She wants to know everything that happened in Chatham. "Ask Cam", I say. She's relentless. When I tell her that Debbie is a friend of the group, "I don't believe you", is her response. She asks if Cam screwed her. I tell her it was all innocent (quoting Cam's words). Dot alternates between anger, hysterics, and tears. This has gotten very uncomfortable. I'm not going to lie for Cam. My conscience requires that I have to sleep at night. I'm also fond of Dorothy and regard her as a friend, too. So I try to be evasive. Dot is not buying it & is determined to get any & all dirty details out of me. God damn that Hungarian Lothario for putting me into this awkward situation, I thought. She won't confront him about this and won't let me leave. Now I'm getting angry. I didn't ask for this crap.

"Christ Dorothy. You know what he's like. You know he's attractive and that's what attracts you. You don't want to be with an unwanted geek. You suspect that he's unfaithful but you continue to put yourself through all the trauma & you stay with him. You think you can change him. Get him to reject offers from the others or stop him from actively chasing them. But you can't make him loyal." Dorothy keeps pressing for details.

Dorothy lavished Cam with attention. Why even his fine Fender guitar was a gift from her. There was an evening I remember well. Cam didn't have a car, so he got Dot to pick us up in hers. She drove us to Maple Leaf Gardens. She provided us with tickets for the Leaf game. And she had scored a couple of joints for Cam. "Isn't this great?" Cam asked. "You're the best, babe" he tells her. Then she leaves us. Cam & I got high & had a great time. Later, Dot returns to drop us off at Cam's and says goodnight to us. Yeah, great night for us but not much fun for Dot. Cam was pleased that she served us well. He reveled in it. I had the shit impressed out of me. At times like that I was jealous of Cam. How some women couldn't do enough for him. Maybe Cam made it up to Dorothy another time? I have my doubts. It seemed whenever Cam was a good and generous host, there was always a woman behind him that was actually the generous one. Whether that person was his mother, feeding us a meal, or a girlfriend like Dot that did all the work.

Meanwhile, back in the present, Dorothy has regained her composure in my car. She refuses to give me back my keys and starts again about Cam. So I ask her, "Do you really want a threesome?" Again, I have her off guard. You see, Cam had been working on Dorothy for sometime to convince her to service both of us at once. Or perhaps whomever else he wished to include and impress. But Dot did have limits to her love for Cam & continued to refuse this fantasy. I didn't have any strong desires for Dorothy & she probably felt the same about me. She had a nice body but I didn't lust for her. At the upcoming Halloween party, Dot looked mighty fine in a Playboy Bunny costume. That night she was attractive. So, if the mood was right, I wouldn't have refused a menage-a- trois. But it wouldn't be right if she didn't sincerely want it. I knew Dot had a soft spot for Colin Stearman. Maybe she'd be more likely to give Cam this fantasy if Colin were part of the plan.

She finally let the issue drop & handed me my keys. "Talk to Cam," is all I said. I believe Dorothy was taken aback by how many intimate details I knew about her. She opened the door & got out. I didn't feel like partying any longer.

I don't know what transpired about Debbie. She returned home. I don't think anyone in the group saw her again. Our correspondence ended after that. I hope she was let down easily. Rosemarie came for a visit & was a guest at one of the Grinch Christmas Parties. She looked great. Joe told me that another summer, he & Homaluke returned to Chatham for another course. He saw Rosemarie again. By this time, she was attached to a young Navigator at 416. The fellow got quite drunk & was jealous of her friends from Toronto & created quite an ugly incident. The communications with her were severed after that bad scene.

Dorothy continued on with Cam. She turned up the heat on him & wasn't as much fun anymore. She confronted him & called him scores of names & insults, among which she said he was "scum bastard" and "a urinal". Cam laughed at that one later. "You're a urinal", he'd repeat. If she didn't unleash this torrent on him after the Debbie incident, then it happen a bit later after he screwed Terry Hall on a ski weekend, or after some other indiscretion.

I have a few other memories about Dorothy. I remember being with Cam & her at Larry's Hideaway on Carlton. Dot had supplied Cam with more reefers. We must have done these in the parking lot & then came in for a beer. I'm holding my beer glass then get this strange sensation that I've lost control of my right hand. It has a mind of its own & it wants to squeeze the glass until it shatters. I'm finally able to release it & have a strange look on my face. They both want to know what's wrong. They laugh when I attempt to describe what happened. On the way home, I feel the same eerie loss of control, only this time with the foot on the accelerator. I figure that pot must have been laced with something. I've never had a bizarre experience like that before or since! I also recall being with Cam & Dot at Ontario Place. We watched fireworks & drank at the Edelweiss Bar where a crazy, old, bald, guy did something called the "upside down ein prosit". He'd do a headstand & drink a quart of beer. Quite a skill!

Dorothy dumped Cam when he found a fresh submissive lady off base. Ironically, her name was Debbie also. Cam always seemed to have them lined up, waiting to take their turn as his "number one lady". I didn't hear much about Dorothy after I left the Reserve. Cam was my buddy & his old flames were supposed to be disposable & forgotten. When my father died in 1991, the obituary in the Toronto Star resulted in the receipt of a sympathy card from Dot. She didn't mention anything about herself. An attempt to contact her went unanswered. I guess she wanted it that way. I heard that she may have had a kid. Years after they broke up, I recall Cam telling me that they had a chance encounter. Even in recent times, Cam wondered if I had heard anything about her. I don't believe his curiousity means that he cares about how she is today.

Sidekick Or Evil Genius?

After that incident with Dot, I began to realize there was a steep price with being Cam's good buddy. Cam wasn't looking after my interests by setting me up with Janet in North Bay. Nor was he looking after me when he picked-up two ugly girls in some bar at last call & graciously gives the ugliest "as mine". Cam was creating complicity, a covenant amongst us boys. Involving me with Janet guaranteed my silence with Dorothy. Cam just looked after his needs. Although we continued to have adventures, I was wary of being his sidekick. The sidekick tends to come out on the short, or shitty, end of the stick. I didn't want a repeat of that scene with Dorothy in my car. You know, while I was with the Squadron, I'd sometimes think that if I ever struck it rich, like winning millions in a lottery, I would show Cam & my bruddas the time of their lives. I would assemble a bunch of the finest call girls available. Nice guys like Dave Cooper & Dougy Wilkins could have their ultimate fantasies realized. All I would expect from Cam would be him saying, "Fred, this is great"! A boyish fantasy. Many years later, I thought if I struck it rich, it would be nice to charter a jet and fly all the lads and their families down to my place in the Cayman's & have a grand reunion they'd not forget. Today, I'm thinking if I strike it rich, I'd send a cordial invitation for the bruddas to come down for a visit to my place in the Cayman Islands. We'll see who makes an effort. There comes a time when you decide to stop being the sidekick. It's better to give no more than what you get.

Recently, my wife asked a couple of my old squadron mates what I was like back then. We both were curious to see how I was perceived & remembered. Dougy Wilkins remembered me playing guitar to songs like "House on Pooh Corner" & some Eagles tunes. Those were Cam's songs. Doug didn't remember my original ditty "South of the Border", or sitting with me in my shack room singing Beatles tunes - that was me. Not the other stuff. As for what I was like, Doug felt that I would sit back, give Cam some ideas, and send him off to do the wild antics, while I would settle back & observe what happened. I was like Cam's "evil genius", the puppet master pulling his strings. An interesting interpretation! This was how I was perceived by many in the clan. Sure, there were times when Cam & I fed off of each other. But I guess I must have continued to control Cam even after I had left the Reserve. Even after he had gotten tight with Tom Idiott. It's interesting that for all those years when I felt that I was Cam's sidekick, others believed that I was the one responsible for all the shit that Cam got into! Revisionist history & hazy memories are quite something. Somehow Cam was remembered as the harmless, impressionable one, not me. Someone else must have been the schemer. But if that's the way I'm remembered, then so be it. I got all the girls, not Cam. I could say that I laid Jackie McGuiness & every other gorgeous lady. Who could contest that now? But in my mind I was noble. Anyway, despite Doug having info on many former co-workers, many of his details proved to be inaccurate.

No, Doug was wrong. He was confusing me with Cam. I know that Cam & I had very different philosophies - which became more apparent as time went on. Forinstance, there was the time around 1985 when Dad & I were installing new toilet stalls at his church's hall. Cam was delivering part-time for Fedex & dropped by. Cam thought it hilarious & demeaning that we were working in a toilet. Granted, this was not our usual work but dad cut a deal with his priest. A contract & a job to help the priest. The same priest that buried mom, and later funeral services would be held for dad in that church. The same hall would be used for my wedding. Cam just didn't get it. He didn't volunteer or do for others. People did things for him. He also wasn't much of a mechanic or a tradesman. Andy, on the other hand, knew about contracting. I did jobs for him in Oakville & Caledon. And he helped us with jobs at the priest's house. That's the difference. You couldn't count on Cam, other than for a party.

There are no pure villains or saints. And some people are better than others in certain aspects. If you wanted to party with no strings, Cam was your man. If you wanted fidelity, you were best to look elsewhere. The girls just didn't get this. They wanted Cam because they found him attractive or liked his popularity. Then they thought they could change him. None could.

I couldn't understand Cam's need to party to the point of incapacity. I loved music but it wasn't fun playing guitar when you are pissed to the point that your fingers couldn't find the chords any longer & your brain can't remember the lyrics. LuLu's bar in Cambridge isn't fun when you're passed out in the parking lot, or in the john, and Cam is trying to get you back into the club because, "I got us another round". He had an amazing tolerance for booze & grass. It seemed to take more & more of that stuff before he was able to enjoy himself. It was like sex, playing guitar, or whatever, weren't enjoyable in themselves. They all had to be preceded by an intense session of mind-numbing chemicals.

Chip Ray, when asked the same question, what I was like back then, he was bang-on. At least the same way I remembered how things played-out. Chip accurately recounted a lot of details concerning me. Like my wish to start a music publishing company, "Roundel Records". How I loved the old Mustangs & how I was taken by a body shop owner who conned me into giving him my new fenders on the pretext that he would make molds for the creation of fiberglass replicas & give me a free set. Chip remembered that the guy went bankrupt & disappeared with my property. Chip remembered how I was gung-ho on the old RCAF 5BX exercise program, and also a host of other details on events. Chip told my wife that back then he saw me as searching for something. He said that whatever it was, I didn't seem to be finding it there. Man, he was right. Twenty years later & he still had it down pat. He didn't know what it was I was looking for back then, but neither did I clearly know at the time. Looking back now, I'd say that I was looking to fit in. To find acceptance in the group. I wanted to fly, to be a crewman, and a career as an Officer. To be acknowledged by my peers and be a part of the great history & traditions of the old RCAF. I was also looking for "Miss Right" and hoped I might find her there. Where Cam sought the quick & meaningless, I craved something lasting & meaningful. Ultimately, I didn't find those things, other than a lot of adventures. Chip was also trying to find his way, too. In 1981, he'd join the Regular Force on a 14-year odyssey.

Westward Ho, The Cross Continent Road Trip

When I returned home from the East Coast, the summer of 1980 was winding down. I was shocked to find a motor home in our driveway. Dad had purchased it while I was away. The plan was to make a trip across the continent this autumn. Mom had been in declining health for several years. She had heart/lung surgery a few years back. She was on insulin for diabetes and took a host of medications for hypertension, glaucoma, etc. You name it, she had it. If we were to travel, this was the best way to go. Our own bathroom for her frequent "having to go" & a fridge for her insulin. She knew she only had a few years at best & she wanted to have an extended family vacation - something we never seemed to have time for. It was a nice idea. Dad would actually take six weeks away from his business. Not since 1971, when dad took five weeks away with mom to visit her family in Czechoslovakia, had they done something like that. I didn't have any plans. No "B" Class commitment with the RSU at the moment. I needed a break after the "Gagtown" experience. So, I set about getting familiar with our home on wheels. Getting a feel for how it drove. I'd just driven from the East Coast & now would drive to the western one! I'd not driven something this large before. It was built on a truck frame with a GRW of about 5 tons. Powered by a Dodge 413 truck engine. We'd be leaving soon, in mid September. Mom & dad had taken her kid brothers on a road trip to Vancouver before I was born. They had not repeated this since I came along. Now was the time.

I still have a map that has all our stops marked on it. I remember our first overnighter. We pulled into a KOA (Kampgrounds of America) somewhere around Huntsville. We level the rig & go to plug in the electric connection. Then we realize our plug won't fit. We have a large 30-amp plug that won't fit a standard socket. Not without an adapter, which we don't have. Lights could run off of 12 V battery power & the fridge ran on propane as well as 110 V, so we were all right. If we needed hot water we could run the generator. We were learning about all the little quirks that went with this mobile home. Such as dumping the holding tank before it backed up into the shower floor. North of Superior there was snow flurries already. We had a campground to ourselves, as travelers were few after Labour Day. The furnace was needed that night. Saturday night in Dryden we witnessed a sad sight with drunken Indians & the cops. The policeman took away a baby from a woman who was so drunk that she was falling over with the baby in her arms. He screamed at her.

I swear that we visited every relative & friend of the family clear across North America. Particularly in the Prairies. Dad wanted to show me his hometown in Manitoba, so we went to Fork River in the north, after seeing cousins in Dauphin. His cousin owned a music shop in Dauphin & had given dad the latest Ukrainian 8-tracks by a local ethnic band, which dad would play incessantly the whole trip. I'd grow to hate that music! There wasn't much left in Fork River. Many places were boarded-up & even the train didn't stop there any more. A small diner was one of the few businesses still open. We met one of dad's childhood chums. He still lived on the family farm. A bachelor, Mike produces a couple of dirty glasses from a cupboard & a jug of white lightning. Yep, they were still making it, just like in my grand mother's day when she was the local bootlegger. Mike tells us how the family farm is dead. It's all agri-business now with huge acreage. Harvesting is done with rows of combines.

Along the way, many people would notice our Ontario plates & many would say that they were originally from Ontario. This happened even in California. But I noticed that Western Canadians were different. Some folks would see our plates at a stoplight & would smirk or yell an insult. The dominant political thought here really was "let those eastern bastards freeze in the dark". Even among some of our relatives there was this feeling that Western Canada was a colony of Ontario & that we had been raping them for generations. Well, I hadn't raped anyone that I could think of but we were simply suffering some of the fall-out from the National Energy Program. Unlike the Maritimers who were happy-go-lucky & accepted their regional disparity, Westerners were mad as hell. Since Ottawa was in Ontario, we were the same as those bastards. You could see why the Reform Party was born.

We met lots of characters along the way. My dad's brother, my Uncle Andy, was one of them. He owned a hotel in Creighton, Saskatchewan. This wasn't the Waldorf-Astoria. It was a typical beer hall with cheap rooms upstairs. Andy wasn't much of a businessman. He had to hustle to make ends meet. He knew how long it took for the beer truck to make its delivery rounds. He'd take delivery of the beer & give the driver a cheque for an account which had nothing in it. He knew it took a couple of days before the truck gets back to its office, so he'd sell the beer & deposit funds in time to cover the cheque. Lots of these small towns didn't have stores that sold alcohol, so bars sold cases of beer for "carry out".

Andy lived upstairs in one of the rooms. He invites us up. Another bachelor, so the housekeeping is poor. Andy also invited a young barmaid upstairs to entertain her with his "cymbali", a Ukrainian stringed instrument that you play on your lap by hitting the strings with sticks. Kind of like a xylophone. Andy's having a great time but it's a trifle crowded with five of us in his room. Someone comes to the door & says that the boyfriend of the lady he's entertaining is downstairs looking for her. He said to tell him that she's already left. He tells us he'll take her home. As he leaves with her, we take our cue to return to the RV. Andy's likely to get pounded out at this rate! Yep, Andy was a character. He made no bones about writing to women all over the place. Not swingers, more like lonely hearts. He'd tell them that he owned a hotel. Some would come to see him & get a big shock when they saw the place in this one horse town.

We met some distant relatives that farmed in Saskatchewan. He was an interesting chap who flew Lancs during the war. He had lots of stories & said he was working on a book of those wartime days and would send me a copy. Never received it, so I assume he never finished it. A pity.

Until this point we hadn't done any sightseeing, other than people's driveways. And tacky spots like the world's largest Ukrainian Easter Egg in Vegreville, Alberta. That was a thrill! We went north to Edmonton. No, not to see the West Edmonton Mall, but mom's brother. I was getting embarrassed at dropping in on so many people unannounced. Finally we left the flat land of the Prairies for the majesty of the Rocky Mountains. Some of the mountain passes were scary. You couldn't leave the cruise control "on" here! There were runaway lanes at the bottom of steep descents, for trucks whose brakes failed. The scenery was breathtaking. A stop at Lake Louise was everything the folks said it was. Banff was beautiful. Lots of road construction while the weather held. Somewhere in the mountains, a dump truck was carrying rock in the other direction. As we passed each other, a stone bounced off from that truck & shattered our windshield while I was driving. I was more startled than hurt as I was showered by glass. A hat kept the shards out of my eyes. I escaped with only a few small cuts & managed to keep our rig on the road. Found a glass shop & they replaced the windshield without too long a delay.

I loved BC. Lots of contrast with the mountains, valleys, rivers, and ocean. Outside of Vancouver, you guessed it, more relatives to drop in on. With all the Xmas cards the folks exchanged, they kept tabs on a huge number of people. Dad's cousin Nick & his wife Vera were older than my parents were. My dad was about 63 at the time but these folks were closer to 80. Now traveling with your senior-citizen parents for several weeks can be a strain, especially when in close quarters. I had picked-up a couple of swingers magazines, these ones with black & white pics. This helped me get through a number of nights - remembering my time with Donna. But staying with these two people for a couple of days, I really felt that we'd hit rock bottom. Not even the magazines could lift my spirits.

They lived in a trailer in the suburbs of Langley, stuck on a lot. These were popular throughout the West. Their space was not too much larger than our RV. Only their trailer never moved. And their idea of an outing was to go to this particular restaurant where they got free coffee when they showed their Senior Card. And seniors got 25% off their meals on this particular day. Whoopee! Nick & Vera went to bed after 8PM and awoke before dawn. Breakfast consisted of something like cottage cheese & cantaloupe. I had to make a break for it. My folks weren't too interested in seeing Vancouver. After all, they had done that some 30 years ago. Besides, they were tired & hanging around with Nick & Vera, their arteries were hardening.

I caught a bus & made a day of it alone in Vancouver. They have a nude beach but not any scenery at that time of year. I walked around Stanley Park & the zoo. I thought Gastown might still be like the wild place that my university roommate, Doug, had experienced in the early '70's. It was a hippie hangout, where LSD and free love flourished. Alas, the place was now a sanitized area ripe with trendy boutiques. Just like Yorkville had become in Toronto. The steam clock was still there, unchanged even if the area had. The city was quiet. Even the hookers on Pender were tame. I talked to a street vendor who said, "Van was more like Victoria - it's now the retirement capital of Canada". Hong Kong money had caused real estate prices to go through the roof. It was no longer a Mecca for young people. They couldn't afford it. I went to see a flick. Jack Nicholson in "The Shining". That was a grabber!

Riding the bus back to Langley, I fell asleep. I awoke to a commotion. The bus stopped at an accident scene, which had just happened. A car had rolled over into the ditch. With groggy eyes I go over to help. The weird thing was that the motor was still running with the car upside down. It shouldn't have. Fuel injection wasn't common then & the gas should have run out of the carb's vent & the float should have shut off the supply, stalling the engine. I reached in & turned off the key. A guy was still inside hanging from his seat belt. We got him out. Both he & his buddy were pissed. Back at the RV, I was pleased to have been a night owl, while everyone else had crashed around dusk.

From BC, we headed south to Washington. Outside of Tacoma, in Aberdeen, were more of dad's cousins and his ancient Uncle was still alive. One of the young ladies in this family was an aspiring actress in the local theater group. She took me for a tour of her theater. She had the affected accents & mannerisms of "theater people" but at least she & her friends were impressed that I was an acting student & had performed. Her brother played college football & we talked about the NFL and CFL. At last, people of my own age group with similar interests! Before our departure, they gave us baggies of volcanic dust from the Mount St. Helen's eruption. The dust had covered everything in the area. From there, it was a stop on the ocean in Oregon to visit more people from this family. This group didn't get along with the other bunch in Washington. Got to hear all the family politics, whether we wanted to or not. They were trendy folks with a modern place by the water. They had lived in the San Fernando Valley in California, and as a testament to that lifestyle, they had all the latest conveniences & toys. A side-by-side fridge with the icemaker in the door. Had a new microwave. The place was like the set of "The Price Is Right". They had a couple of teens that were hip but wished they were back in The Valley. The girl was especially bored. Probably missed the Galleria Mall, "fer sure"!

California was a land of variety & it took ages to get from the north of the state to the south. Ronald Regan had made this state a land of milk & honey. We saw Mount Shasta. And we got to L.A. Saw smog & it's true: L.A. is a great big freeway - complete with gridlock! We parked near Grauman's Chinese Theater. Dad had to pose beside Gary Cooper's name & handprints in cement. The folks took a break while I walked Hollywood Boulevard. Hollywood & Vine was then the center of sleaze. It reminded me of Yonge Street from a few years back, with sex shops & runaway kids bumming quarters. I did see the Capitol Records building & Frederick's of Hollywood.

We stayed at the Disneyland KOA & had to make a visit to this Anaheim landmark. I also convinced the folks to do the Universal Studios Tour. It was neat to see "Leave it to Beaver's" house and the house from Hitchcock's "Psycho". We were told that Kate Jackson from "Charlie's Angels" got her start here as a tour guide. Hey, maybe they're hiring? Having done the touristy things, we couldn't leave Los Angeles without visiting someone & dad made phone contact with a family friend whom had left Manitoba & married an American living here.

He got directions & we found the place. She was OK but he was another character. A southern "good ole boy" that did something in the aviation biz. He gave me a print of a KC-135 Tanker refueling B-52's. Nice. I pinned it up in my room for a number of years. Anyway, he was a card-carrying member of the NRA. And he had enough guns to equip a small army. Guns for every occasion. He showed me his collection. "Now this one I carry to & from work. While this here baby goes in the glove box. Y'all ever see the Dirty Harry movies? That's a 44 Magnum. Here, try it for feel". The bloody thing is like a cannon. "It's too big to holster on your side, so see the holster puts it across your chest. Now this is a 357. I took this one outside when a bunch of blacks parked in front of the house. I said, 'You boys get the fuck away from here'. They didn't want to mess with this when I pointed it at them." I wonder if the same bravado would be shown to the Crypts & Bloods in recent years, or if he had to move up to sub-machine guns? He did have them all. From US 45's to James Bond's Walther PPK. Even a Derringer he put in his sock. Wow, the land of the brave and the armed to the teeth!

Now that I'm suitably impressed & terrified, his teenage son offers to take me out for a ride. He's got a pretty hot car & we go cruising Colorado Blvd. He tells me that his old man is pretty lame. A real redneck. While stopped at a light, he glances over to the car beside him. They both rev engines. The light changes & they both floor it. The drag race culture that the Beach Boys and Jan & Dean sang about in the 1960's is still alive in Southern California. The same thing happens at just about every light with new contestants. I'm really blown away by this. Then we're driving in a very Hispanic area, where the places have shutters or bars on their windows. There's lots of graffiti in Spanish. I'm a little uneasy as I think we're in the heart of the barrio. He scores a joint or two from a couple of tough looking chicos. He peels off as he sparks one up & passes it over. "If it wasn't for this shit, I don't think I could handle it, man", he states as he passes it to me. He thinks he's got it tough. "My old man is John Wayne & the old lady is Suzy Homemaker". I just nod. I believe I have met the typical, dysfunctional Californian family!

It's time to move on. Stay at a campground near Palm Springs. It's hot as blazes & a good thing the AC works. Then we're on the road to Vegas. As soon as you hit the Nevada State line there are slot machines at the gas stations & shops. "Why drive to Vegas", the sign says. Eventually the lights of Vegas glow in the desert distance. What a place. You can do anything at any hour. Chapels for quickie weddings & places for quicker divorce. We stay at the Hacienda Hotel, as this one has its own trailer park. Redd Foxx is performing here, the star of "Sanford & Son". Tickets aren't cheap. But booze & food is - anything to keep you in the casino. I had a budget & when that was gone I quit. There are more pages for escort services in the Yellow Pages than for most other businesses.

Leaving Vegas behind. The drive through the desert is quite something. There's the Grand Canyon and many buttes. We stop at a historic mining town called Calico. You can almost see the ghosts of a bygone age. Outside Omaha Nebraska, I make a side trip to the Strategic Air Command Museum. There are a number of planes & missiles on display. A B-58 Hustler, B-36 Peacemaker, as well as B-17, B-29, B-47, and B-52. Many others.

Chicago, Chicago, That Totlin' Town

It was an uneventful drive through a number of states, until we hit Chicago. More crazy traffic & drivers. They can't pull behind you & exit. No, they have to pass you, cut in front and slam on their brakes to turn onto the exit ramp at the last second. More than a few times I had to hit the binders hard to avoid putting the RV into someone's trunk.

The purpose of the Chicago stop was to visit dad's cousin Nat (my but didn't dad have a lot of cousins). Nat was the eldest of his brothers & the one who had done well for himself. He invented a burglar alarm system with pressure sensors many years ago & had been "living high on the hog" in a Chicago suburb. We had been there before. When I was about 14, we came for Nat's daughter Eleanor's wedding in the late 1960's. I remember it well. I caught the garter! I guess that wedding was a disappointment for Nat. Eleanor was his only child & she ended-up marrying a USN sailor. I remember that she had a copy of Gord Lightfoot's "If You Could Read My Mind" in her record collection and her husband-to-be showed me a manual for the automated gun turret from his ship.

It was a dozen years later. The sailor was out of the navy. He and Eleanor, as well as their young boy were all living with Nat & his wife. The elders were quite elderly. Eleanor was now quite matronly, no longer the blushing bride. Her hubby seemed to spend all his time at home working on Heathkit electronic projects with his young son. They just completed their latest one, a primitive binary computer. The kid was doing math problems in binary. A couple of years later, Andy Gyorffy would have a Texas Instruments TI-99 that was vastly superior. Anyway, the dashing sailor was now a computer geek.

On our previous Chicago trip I had seen the captured German U-boat, which was cool. The only thing I was interested in seeing this time was the Blue Jays. They were in town to play the White Sox. Our hosts didn't know where to get tickets but kept saying that I should go see the Cubs play at Wrigley Field, here on the north side. I walked down the street to the corner store. I asked the counter person about Sox tickets. He echoed similar sentiments as those of my relations. "That's at Comiskey Park on the south side. You don't want to go there." A customer then joined the discussion. "Hell, if you take public transit, they'll mug you. If you take a vehicle there, it'll be stripped or stolen. The only way I go to the south side is with a 357 Magnum. Go see the Cubs. It's safe". Well, like Jim Croce's song "Bad, Bad, Leroy Brown", the south side of Chicago really was the baddest part of town. I didn't want to go to Wrigley. And since everyone was trying to discourage me, and failed to give me info on tickets & how to get there, I gave up on the Jays. Maybe it was the smart thing. Or maybe I was now a party to their own fears. But these people know their city better than I, and they had lived through race riots & other nasty stuff. Even before Capone, Chicago was known as the city of "big shoulders". Not just the Windy City.

Mo Town

In Detroit, mother decided she needed a bottle of booze. This quest took us through some bad territory. Blocks & blocks of burned-out & boarded-up houses. The aftermath of urban decay & the legendary "Devil's Nights" that preceded Halloween in Detroit. I recognized the area around Tiger Stadium, having been there for a ball game. Having gotten our bearings, we got some booze at a liquor store & got the hell out of there.

Ohio

I guess we couldn't drive across North America JUST seeing dad's relatives. Mom wanted to see some distant relations of hers in the Cleveland area. There were three families there. I'd known them all since childhood from visits, weddings, etc. They were all proud, patriotic Americans. There were the Zagorski's. The patriarch worked for many years at the Lorain crane factory, where they made steam shovels & such. I suppose Japanese heavy equipment makers killed that company. That would have brought a tear to old Joe's eyes. They had sons who had been in the armed forces & survived. The Milos family wasn't so lucky. They lost their only son in Vietnam. He may have been about my age, or it was the fact that I was in the military myself, but my presence reminded them about their lost son. They kept breaking down in tears every time they looked at me. This was awkward for all of us. Then there was the Sekarak family. An elderly couple, their only child was a daughter, Carol. She was much older than I was and she was still living at home with her parents. She was well on her way to becoming a spinster. Despite this,Carol was pretty cool. She worked in Personnel at Ford's' Cleveland Engine Plant, the home of the 351 Cleveland & other renowned engines. She drove a new Mustang! I sensed that Carol had a secret side to her, like she was looking for "Mr. Goodbar" for tawdry sex. She liked younger men & perhaps today might be called a Cougar.

Carol sensed that I was bored & took me to a fantastic club by the airport. It was called 386 Bomb Group, or something similar. The place was massive. I went to many clubs in the early 1980's: Lulu's, The Bakery & The Library in Niagara Falls, the 747 in Buffalo, even the Havana Café in Havana in recent times, but I've never seen anything like it before or since. The owners must have spent a fortune. It was like a shrine to WWII and air power in particular. There were all kinds of aviation memorabilia. Mock-ups of aircraft, leather flying jackets & helmets on mannequins. There was a MASH like scene with a hospital truck, and an area that looked like a bunker with sandbags & camouflage netting. There even was a scene reminiscent of a bombed building with partial brick walls & debris. What a nightclub! We drank, danced & talked. We got back late. From here we headed home. I'd have a few stories to tell & memories to last a lifetime.

Halloween

Returned home from the RV trip towards the end of October. Back at the squadron, I got wind of a Halloween Party on base, which a bunch of our people said they were going to. Speaking with Ken Mills, it was decided that it might be a hoot if we went in drag. Kenny was fairly new to the Squadron. He was a couple of years older than myself & was an accomplished musician. Ken was a good sport, a lot of fun, and I considered him a Renaissance Man. He was interested in many things, had done a number of those interests, and went where his spirit led him. So Ken was game and then we talked Al Cooper into being one of the sisters - "Alice" Cooper.

We had a bit of time to put together our costumes. I think Ken raided his aunt's place for suitable garb. I approached mother to see if she could lend anything that would fit. Not much did. I borrowed cosmetics, a purse, & some accessories. I threw myself into my part, just like my old theater days. It wasn't quite like playing the lead character of El Gallo in the musical The Fantastiks, but I approached it as seriously. To achieve my alter ego, "Frederica", would involve some shopping. Sears provided a skirt, top, and wig. Large shoes were a problem but it was solved. The Sally Ann netted a few requisites. I got opaque stockings that covered the leg hair. Gloves worked for covering my rough hands and dispensed with the need for nail polish. Even found breast forms & a suitable bra. Well, if you're going to transform, you might as well do it right! I liked lingerie, so here was a chance to test-drive some myself. I was getting into this project & unleashing my feminine, creative side!

The night of the party rolls around. I'm looking in the mirror & realize that my mustache spoils the illusion. It has to go. Ah, much better. Hardly Kate Jackson, but you can only do so much when this "Charlie's Angel" is 6'-2" & weighs 180 lbs.! I remember visiting my old buddy, Ed, in Hamilton before heading to the base. I clomp down the street to his door in my low heels & swinging my purse. Ed does a double take when the door opens to reveal this tall, ugly broad. When I speak, he then knows who it is & laughs. Ed's dressed as a ghoulish figure. I ask if he wants to go to the party in Toronto, but he declines as he's going to a local one. His parents take a photo of us before I leave. Walking back to the car, I notice the strange sensation of the cool evening air flowing up my skirt. This is different. I guess ladies get use to it. Scotsmen or members of our Pipe Band must get the same with their kilts!

I arrived at the Supply depot for the party. Ken looks pretty good, like a middle-aged lady. Al, on the other hand, looked like he had raided his grand mother's closet. His mustache gave him away. Then again, my grandma had one. For quite awhile, Cam wondered "who is that trollop", while looking at me. I guess being clean-shaven fooled a few folks as to my identity. Once he knew it was I, he kept copping feels. He was amazed (or shocked) at the lengths I had gone to for my costume. Rob Carr came as a priest. We streetwalkers attempted to convert him to the dark side all night.

Vinny from the RSU had a great costume. Vinny, whose name was actually Ivan Vindor (but he looked like a Vinny) was a bear of a man but a gentle guy. He could give Ron Mercy a tough time in a scuffle but Vinny wasn't like that. Well, he came as a pregnant angel, complete with wings & a halo. He teamed up with Cam, who came as the devil. Cam had written on his chest "Heaven Can Wait", while Vinny had on his pregnant stomach "I Couldn't". Cam used his devil's tail like a penis, which had us in stitches.

We posed with it suggestively. Cam also inserted it into the mouth of a Jack-o-lantern. Diane The Jugs was also there in a devil's costume. It suited her. Joanne Pilsener came in a toga. Andy must have been there, taking the photos. Andy always preferred being behind the camera, rather than in front of it.

Besides Al, some of the others from the Cooper Clan were there. Dave came as one of those hosers, the McKenzie Brothers. Phyllis "GiGi" Cooper also came in a toga. This may have been the first time she had come to an event on base. She hadn't joined the Reserve yet. Although many of us knew her from seeing her at Cooper pool parties, etc. She was starting to come of age. Whereas, a short while ago she looked like a kid, in her costume on this night, she looked like Aphrodite - a Greek goddess. Dorothy, as mentioned elsewhere, came as a Playboy Bunny. She looked pretty hot. But even when she smiled, that sad countenance of hers was still visible.

I must have drove home when the event was over. I did enjoy our night in drag. It was a sort of Monty Pythonesque evening of "We're Airmen & We're OK". More like being the Sweet Transvestite from the "Rocky Horror Picture Show". In subsequent years I've gone to a number of costume parties. I've gone as Alice Cooper (in his "I Want To Be Elected" period, with top hat & tux), gone as a mummy, even as Mickey Mouse. Haven't gone out in drag again. Perhaps because it's already been done. More likely because I wasn't very convincing. And I'm not going to shave my mustache off again! The feminine side remains denied and my drag queen flirtations ended.

The rest of the Fall was pretty quiet. I recall that MCpl Rick Peters from 403 Squadron was transferred into the RSU sometime after I had returned from Gagetown. He had a weathered, leathery face & was on the quiet side. But it was great to see a familiar face around Downsview from my East Coast experiences.

Promotion (Getting Hooked)

Sometime in April or May 1980, I received a promotion to Corporal. This occurred after 2 years in the organization & after attaining my TL3 in Airframe. It came as a surprise during a squadron briefing. The speaker commented that there was someone present who was out of uniform. My name was spoken & I was called to the front. I was handed a pair of Corporal's hooks to applause & a round of "Hooray for Kuzyk…he's a horse's ass!" I remembered when I was presented with my Private's hooks. As it was back then, it was expected that I'd buy a round of drinks at the Mess. I think Sgt Dave Hellyer wore a Corporal's flight jacket, so that he could sneak in for the celebration. I still have a list of drink orders I wrote down in my little pocket notebook.

So, after this initial expense came the additional expense of going to Stores & getting a bunch of hooks for fatigues & dress uniform tunic. Also obtained were Corporal's "collar dogs" for the dress shirts (hooks weren't sewn on them). Then a trip to the base tailor to pay to have the insignia installed. I guess mom could have done it but the results may not have been correct. I checked my account at the Base Credit Union. Still had enough of my chequing account left after buying drinks to pay for the tailor. Anyway, the tailor looks at my ill fitting tunic & said it looked like a clown's costume. It was baggy & obviously the wrong size. Private Goodyear, who issued it 2 years earlier, didn't like Reservists. & it manifested itself in my uniform. Finally, I looked sharp.

Royal Winter Fair

Parades were a common activity for us: Remembrance Day, Battle of Britain, and other ceremonies. I recall that someone got the bright idea that there should be a military presence at the Royal Winter Fair at the CNE grounds and our superiors committed us to it. This took place one evening at the Coliseum. For those unfamiliar with the venue, it's the horse palace. With band playing & colours flying, we marched into the dirt of the ring. There had been horse & wagon performances prior to our moment. It was awful. The music echoed in this barn, throwing some out of step. All of us had a hard time marching in the uneven ruts & horse shit! Some almost fell. I recall laughs & heckles as we marched out. This was not our finest hour. Never again would we do The Royal, thank god.

Stand Down

As Christmas approached, activities at 400 Squadron would cease for the holidays. On the final working day, work halted & the Squadron would "stand down". This was a pleasant duty. Earlier, we had drawn names from a hat & the name you drew was the person you'd give a gift to in an exchange. There was a budget that we'd stay in. We'd adjourn to the Canteen with our gifts. The squadron would put-up cases of beer & some light food. Festive music played, while we played darts, cards, or just talked. Of course this was another opportunity for Lockett or Hellyer to lead us in our bawdy squadron songs. The gifts were exchanged. Perhaps this was the year that someone gave me a model kit of an Otter. A very appropriate gift, indeed! Like a number of kits I have kicking around, I haven't gotten around to assembling the Otter. Something to do when I retire, I suppose. It must be as rare as hen's teeth today. The donors of the gifts were anonymous, so I don't know who got me the kit. Anonymity was a good thing, as it led to some interesting gag gifts bought from sex shops, such as "Candy Pants" edible underwear. There was lots of shop talk & reflection on the year that was, as well as the year to come. Some discussion took place on current events, like the Iran-Iraq war. I'd say that everyone was glad that we were at peace.

The Bun Fights

The last function of the year was the annual Squadron Christmas Dinner, better known as the Bun Fight. The unit never did a New Year's Eve Party. It took place in the Junior Ranks Mess. Unlike other times, when we had to sneak-in the higher ranks, all ranks could attend on this occasion. It was a dinner steeped in tradition. Dress uniforms & decorations. I believe we were led into the room by a piper. There was a prayer & grace, and a toast to the Queen. On this evening, the youngest Private would take off his/her jacket & don the tunic of the Commanding Officer. He'd remain the CO for the duration of the event. I recall when Tom Idiott was given the honour. The new "CO" could issue orders & they'd be obeyed - if within reason.

Another time-honoured tradition was that all the Officers would serve the Other Ranks on this night. This role reversal probably started during the war, the one time when the men could boss the Officers around for a change. The Officers would take off their jackets, roll up their sleeves, and would be our waiters & bus boys for the night. They'd scurry around bringing turkey & fixins from the kitchen. Some of us would delight in this situation to the point of abuse. We'd wait until one of them would sit down to their meal & then called them over to pass some butter or fill a water glass. It was part of the fun to see the real CO run ragged. I recall Rick Kurtzer getting annoyed after one too many trivial requests & saying something like, "OK, enough's enough". Things could get carried away & become humiliating for the Officers.

The evening was known as the Annual Bun Fight for good reason. When the buns were passed out, more were often thrown than eaten. The whole room would turn into a slapstick scene with everyone lobbing buns at targets. Some would hoard the breadbaskets so that they had a supply of ammo. "Get ready. Hurl!" The powers that be began to curtail this aspect of the dinner. It was always funny until someone lost an eye from a crusty roll, I guess! Too bad, as the bun fight was the best part of the night for many of us.

Ken Mills created a humorous little ditty entitled "I Don't Want No More of Air Force Life". The tune poked fun at a few individuals and mentioned the conversion to choppers. Ken had handed out photocopies of the lyrics to a group of us, and we rose to sing. Ken gave us a starting pitch from a harmonica. Everyone could sing along with the chorus. And the verses brought out laughter.

After desert & the speeches were done, I suppose a number of us adjourned to the bar for some Christmas cheer & toasts. Then it was time to go home to our families. We'd reunite sometime in January. 1980 was now history. 1981 would give me one final, full year with the Reserve.

Next Episode:"1981 - One Last Action Packed Year".

Precious Update

2011-06-12T10:29:00.000-07:00

Precious the Golden retriever continues to discover her world. She is less white as her coat has become more tan. Her urine has gotten stronger & now burns the grass. She can easily hop up onto the deck or jump off the bed. Soon she will be as big as Sweety, the PWD, and will out-grow her car carrier. She graduated from Puppy Kindegarten yesterday, will miss her class mates but is registered for Grade 1.

Here she discovers a new toy...ice cubes in a water dish! Amazing how pets can amuse themselves with the simplest things!

Fire on Diana Av, Grimsby, Canada, June 8/11

2011-06-09T07:07:00.000-07:00

As one neighbour said, 26 years on the street & he has never seen fire trucks here. So what are the odds that an attic fire would happen just a couple doors away from our home? The evening of June 8, 2011 - a neighbour came to the door & said there was a house fire across the street. She had already called 911. I ran to the house & we determined that the man & his dog were the only occupants & they were out of the house. There was a small amount of smoke coming from the peak of the roof. I looked through the front screen door & the living area was clear of smoke. The Chief arrived & I told him all people were out. That the fire was confined to the attic, and the location of the nearest hydrant.
Once a fireguy, always a fireguy!

Downsview is STILL alive in cyberspace!

2011-05-30T04:48:00.000-07:00

Bill Bishop was planning to revive aspects of my old website Freddy K's Unofficial 400 Squadron website when lo & behold he found a gentleman from Holland who has resurrected a number of the old Geocities Websites including mine! Bill told me about these ReoCities sites and posted the fantastic news at Propwash:

http://400sqn.blogspot.com/2011/05/joyful-breaking-news.html

Check out his post and click the link there. I was amazed! While an archive I mentioned in my Fireside Chat of 2010 did have much of the text of my old site, all the pictures & graphics were gone. But here at ReoCities - it's a complete snapshot of my site from late 2002 with ALL the photo galleries (save one at present) intact!

I'm ecstatic! Some of those photos were lost until now! It's like revisiting an old friend. Working on that site during the 911 period and afterwards was my way of getting through that terrible time & it's wonderful to see it preserved!

Thanks Bill for finding this. And a big thanks to those at ReoCities!

Per Ardua Ad Astra,
Freddy K

Sweetie & Precious Victoria Day 2011

2011-05-27T07:24:00.000-07:00

12 week old Precious the Golden Retriever is able to climb on Muskoka chairs & drawing less blood these days!

Wally Jaremko's Sentiments

2011-05-26T06:12:00.000-07:00

At Bill Bishop's 400 Squadron gathering last summer it was great to see a few familiar faces from my era. But it was also wonderful to meet a few people from Bill's era, before my time. One of these that I had not met before was Wally Jaremko. Wally was a Commanding Officer at one time. He was now in bad health and said he had little time left. In the past he had viewed my website and I had his email address so he use to receive my email newsletters, when I use to send those out to the troops. He received my email message about Bill's party and decided at the last minute to drop by, as it would probably be the last Air Force related event he would attend.

He gave me a couple of photocopied photos. He shared a bunch of stories. He related to a few of us some feelings about a pilot I knew from my period (let's call him Major Chas). He always felt that It was a shame that the Major was never made Commanding Officer of 400. He knew him well when the Major was a Junior Rank in the unit. Watched him go through pilot triaining and followed his career through the ranks, his pilot career at Air Canada, and Wally still kept in touch after he retired from 400.

I liked Chas. He was compitent, confident, a favourite among the Junior Ranks, his peer pilots - I think everyone liked him. He loved to party, fraternize with the techs, and blow of steam. When we were in North Bay, he brought out his violin, wore his apron with the bottle opener dong, and sang bawdy songs with us. Although he commanded respect, you could trust him - he had your back, whether in the air or on the ground in some misadventure!

I don't know how the selection process for CO works. Wally offered no suggestion as to why Chas was overlooked for the position. I would guess that image or political agendas might have something to do with it. In which case, Chas's popularity and party image, his lack of detachment from the troops, may have been considered a detriment compared to other candidates. So he was always overlooked. Yet Chas bled 400 and when he was moved to another unit, he went but his loyalty and heart was always with Canada's Senior Squadron.

I wasn't shocked when the news broke about the base commander of Trenton had a secret side that included murder. dismayed but not shocked. Everyone has a "Heart of Darkness" (from Joseph Conrad's book that was referenced in the film "Apocalypse Now") that can appear if allowed to flourish. A Colonel at Trenton can be viewed like a god, at least they were at one time. I don't know the man's background but he was probably groomed as a pilot. The privileged who never were denied can begin to believe that, like a well known quote from a Canadian politician, that they are "entitled to their entitlements". Or like the recent head of the IMF, they can get away with their sexual assaults because of their position & power. The Colonel went from kink, to rape, to serial killings. Someone, subordinates, peers, or superiors, must have had an inkling that something wasn't quite kosher, you'd think. Perhaps an underling who was instructed to say he was somewhere when he was actually breaking into women's houses? But there is a tendency to cover for a powerful person in the military. Or perhaps this fellow was so skilled at playing the game that he could deceive everyone into believing that he was a good guy? It seems that many these days have trouble determining merit. The gate keepers and decision makers seem to be asleep at the switch and allow the unworthy to pass. Perhaps because they are fooled by image and the gift of gab, or is it because they are bound by agendas and are blind to quality?

President Harry Truman famously said "The buck stops here". A training instructor of mine told me that if you screw up, get caught, you take your lumps. You don't find a scapegoat, deflect blame, just man up, accept your responsibility and receive punishment. But these kind of sentiments appear to belong in Truman's time or at least a generation ago. These days nobody wants to be accountable or take responsibility. Even those who are paid the big bucks to ultimately be responsible. I recall a city official who allegedly embezzled public funds and gambled them away at casinos. He was found out and dismissed. Not a dime was recovered. He then sued the city for wrongful dismissal because the poor man was sick! So then he"s entitled to severances or bonuses on top of what he absconded with? Then there were the Wall Street firms whose greed caused the final meltdown of recent years. Some of these characters got government bailout money, so they could have bonuses & perks, while the Average Joes lost their homes! Or the incompetent folks at EHealth, who wasted tons of money and now must also receive various payouts?!

Ever hear of the broken window theory? When I was a kid & we broke someone's window, dad owned up to the cost & we were punished. Then things changed sometime. Parents refused to take responsibility for their errant kids action. They denied that " my kid would do that".at abandoned buildings, broken windows became the norm. No one cares. Maybe it is learned early now that you can get away with it and later on, that you just need a good lawyer & money (like O.J. Simpson had).

Well Wally could recognize merit when he saw it. He said to Bill that for future events, Bill should contact Chas to get the word out & muster the troops. Such is the clout that Chas still has among the retired pilots & probably current ones too. The class acts are known among many, if you are around long enough and look. In these days of mobile talent, people who leap frog around for promotions or are parachuted into an organization, it's harder to know what they're made of. But Chas had the Right Stuff. Air Commodore Burchill too. It's apparent to many.

We're Still Here!

2011-05-24T11:07:00.000-07:00

Well may 21 came and went and surprise, the world is still here! Yet another doomsday believer has been proven incorrect, as they have each time throughout history. So it's a pretty safe bet in Vegas to bet against every one of these prophets. Now next year is 2012 when the Mayan calendar ends and some believe that this means the end of days. I liked the movie 2012. But I'm inclined to go along with other experts who say that the ancient civilization didn't suggest that the calendar meant the end of the world but that the calendar restarts a new cycle. If anything, it suggests a new era in the world. I'll put my bet on this interpretation. So Mother Earth will likely be around next year.

This isn't to say that in the distant future the sun won't go supernova or that the world might be smashed into bits by a rogue passing asteroid but that end will come quick without prophesy. The privileged might have already gotten out of Dodge to a galaxy far, far away. The great unwashed may have only time to bend over & kiss their ass goodbye! Maybe that should be the final chapter for human kind on this planet. But some may have moved outward to a new home in the universe. But not today. Obla dee obla dah life goes on!

The Rest of the Story

2011-05-24T09:50:00.001-07:00

Received this today & a fitting addition to the last post...

They finally got Osama

2011-05-23T17:23:00.000-07:00

Well the US Navy Seals succeeded in eliminating one of the most wanted men of all time. Finally. I was pleased about the turn of events. Not jump for joy & dance in the streets kind of elated, but nonetheless pleased that they finally took him out.. It was far too long coming though. For years it was a running joke among comics that they couldn't find him with all the assets they have available? The US became overly reliant on technology in the War on Terrorism. Satellites, Predator drones, cruise missiles & other costly Precission Guided Munitions have there place but aren't particularly effective at targeting a specific individual & verifying that you have indeed taken him out. It comes back to elite forces that are well trained & equipped.

Watched a piece on 60 Minutes the other night about an intelligence operative with the NSA who blew the whistle on a program called Trailblazer which was supposed to aid the War on Terror by analyzing the huge amount of data collected from the Internet. The system ran over budget to the sum of millions & never worked. The brass at the NSA bought into this boondoggle despite being told that it wouldn't work by the operative in this story. He went through channels including Congress but no one listened. So he leaked details to the press. The short story is that he was right, no one was held accountable for this screw up, but the fellow who brought it to light is incarcerated, charged as an enemy of the state! There is legislation to protect Whistle Blowers but it hasn't been effective - particularly against the rich & powerful when their secrets are leaked. Look at the head of Wiki Leaks, they are trying to put him away.

Do you remember Ronald Regan's "Star Wars" initiative? Another expensive, high tech solution that failed to fly. Sometimes there's no substitute for skilled "boots on the ground" and solid intelligence (something completely lacking with regards WMDs in Iraq).

You also have to have the will to win. The Russians had it during the Second World War at places like Stalingrad. The US didn't have it in Vietnam. Field commanders complained that whenever they made gains they had to hold back or pull back for political or other reasons. It seems to me that if you are in it to win it, then you must be as ruthless as your enemy - even more so. The Japanese were particularly ruthless during WWII. I heard a story that they weren't afraid of US Marines with their superior numbers or equipment. They were afraid of the Gurkhas from Nepal. These soldiers fought for Britain. While the Japanese were adept at jungle warfare, the Gurkhas were supposedly the masters. They could smell the enemy in pitch dark, sneak up silently and strike with their unique knives. But I heard they terrorized the Japanese by such things as cutting their boot laces while they slept. It could easily have been their throats. They wouldn't sleep after that.

In Afghanistan today our troops face a ruthless enemy that beheads journalists on camera or hides explosives behind burkhas. To lessen the number of our people who come home in body bags it makes sense that your troops be well trained, elite soldiers. Not cooks or logistics personnel with some basic training. Likewise they have to be as well armed or better than the enemy to be fearsome. Back in my day, fellow's who were on peace keeping missions complained that when you are armed with a pistol and the opposition walks around with AK 47s, they don't take you very seriously. I recall one fellow's account of how the combatants in Cypress rolled right over their UN position! Being nice guy Canadian peace keepers in blue helmets wasn't a deterrent at all.

We did have the elite Airbourne Division at one time. But I believe it was the unacceptable photos of some members torturing and humiliating Somaliis, that brought down the unit and led to disbandment. We are civilized people and torture is dis-tasteful but one should remember what conditions were like in Somalia. If you recall the movie Blackhawks Down, you may get a sense of the chaos of the warlords with their kids in heavily armed Technicals.

Today units like the Airbourne Regiment would be handy, if you want to win. Obama has his units. The Brits have the SAS. They got Bin Laden. But it's far from over. It would be wise to have more arrows in the quiver.

To those I've offended over the years...

2011-05-23T10:40:00.000-07:00

An apology to those I've offended. Yes, some of my musings & postings have offended a few over the years. If I haven't offended you...where did I go wrong? How did I manage to miss you? :)

But seriously, when one is controversial, some are going to be offended. I also know that a few enjoyed my stuff over the years. The vast majority are simply ambivalent. That is the way of the world with all things. Socrates said that the life unexamined isn't worth living. I've done a lot of examination of my life - the good, the bad, and the things that I'm ambivalent of.

At one time, I'd become indignant if someone attacked my creative efforts. But lately I'm attempting to adoptba Buddhist like sentiment of detachment. Live in the moment. I put my work out there, it was of interest to me at that moment. But that moment is gone. That part of my life is now gone & no longer relevant or important. So rather than debate or fight, move on. I've removed the subject matter from this Blog and from YouTube. Perhaps the offended will be happy?

The facts are that those posts were never popular. There was no chance of them going viral! The interest in the subject matter was minimal with few views. I hold the copyright to the material but realistically it can't compare to interest in the stuff like a Roy Orbison clip or of a clip from Dancing With The Stars - material that is not mine but the copyright holders don't demand removal as it's extra publicity.

I use to get into debates with those who criticized my material. Those that would say something like that my karaoke was the worst they ever heard. Or that my Cuban Slang was terrible with bad pronunciation, grammar & spelling. I've always offered the challenge that they're welcome to do a better rendition of the song or since they are Miami Cuban & it's their culture, why don't they do a better slang video? The challenge would go unanswered. I've come to just let it go. Look where it's coming from. Negative feedback from young people who merely trash but don't post themselves. Don't create. Like Clint Eastwood said in a movie, "Opinions are like assholes - everybody's got one. And they've got they're right to have them. When I see something I don't like I can always hit the delete key.

These are wondrous times we live in. Computer music fascinated me in the late 1980s. Email and web sites in the late 1990s. The recent mobile explosion and iOS devices like tablets are the future post PC era. With social media like Facebook and twitter, despots in Egypt can be brought down and companies like Toyota or Sony Playstation can feel the wrath of the public when 77 million people,s info is at jeopardy. Books can now be instantly downloaded to eReaders like Kindle, IBooks and others. Never before has there been an era for expression. These are wondrous times. And that's where my interest & curiosity lies.

Propwash Takes To The Cloud

2011-05-23T09:09:00.000-07:00

Had a nice video Skype chat with Billy Bishop yesterday. Bill informed me that he's working at putting his Propwash Blog in the Cloud where it will be accessible even after he is gone. Sounds great! Again Bill has wonderful ideas for keeping 400 Squadron alive in cyberspace (along with Downsview). He asked for my feedback on upcoming aspects. Also the re-issue of my old "On Guard" series of stories, with the thought that they could be done as a "video book". While I'm of the mindset lately to go forward rather than back, I do have the time now & the prospect of doing it geared towards the generation that doesn't read - either as audio or video, is an interesting challenge.

I said to Bill that rewrites would be required. Given that On Guard was based on events from about 30 years ago, written 10 years ago - it could offend people's sensibilities today. To which Bill replied that a great part of the allure of the stories was my style and I shouln't change a word for the sake of political correctness or potential complaints. Well thank you Bill. It's wonderful to have a supportive Editor!

When the articles first ran, I did have one complaint accompanied by the threat to sue. I worked with the complainant on a suitable rewrite of that segment and all was well. Indeed, during the 8 years of my unofficial 400 Squadron website, the Squadron never complained or interfered with my content. In fact, the powers that be in the form of Warrant Officer Fisher appreciated my site as a means to get the word out about reunions and for finding lost alumni. Being Canada's oldest Air Force unit, there have many members over the years. And unlike Harper banning potential hecklers from his rallies, the Squadron isn't afraid of some heckling (anyone who ever attended a Christmas Dinner will remember the abuse that the CO and Officers took for tradition & morale)!

No the Airforce community was largely appreciative of my work. I can't always say the same for websites I did for cigars or old car clubs, who criticized but couln't contribute.

I look forward to continuing this effort with Bill. "Per Ardua Ad Astra".
-Freddy K

Puppy Class

2011-05-22T09:03:00.000-07:00

11 week old Precious at her 1st Puppy Class, playing with her classmates.
This is a flashback for us to a decade ago. She needs the schooling but so do we, as we're out of practice!

Precious May 8 & 10

2011-05-14T13:18:00.000-07:00

Although the puppy is getting bigger, Precious still shouldn't go for walks. So she goes along for the family walk in her puppy pouch.

Click on an image for a larger view.

In the first segment of the following video, her bed can be more interesting as a toy than any of her real ones. In the second segment, Precious gets Sweetie to rough-house with her. Sweetie can easily knock her over with a flick of her head. Thankfully, Sweetie is holding back but I sense that Precious when bigger won't be such a push-over & given that they are 2 Alpha females, we will have sparring sessions that equalled the Monty & Sweeie bouts! No one ever lost an eye though...

Sweetie & Precious

2011-05-12T12:14:00.000-07:00

A couple of recent videos of our Golden pup Precious & our sweet PWD Sweetie.

The Precious & Sweetie Show

2011-05-12T10:51:00.000-07:00

Precious is settling in to her new surroundings - getting into the gardens, eating rocks - all the things that puppies do! This required some chicken wire to keep her out of the forbidden areas. She's had a couple of accidents in the house, particularly on the Rec Room carpet but she would follow big sister Sweetie outside & has gradually gotten the idea to do her business always on the grass, instead of new territory indoors!
Still has problems going down the basement steps but one day recently she made it down 3 or 4 before getting stuck & crying for help! She's learning how to entice the 11 year old PWD into playing with her.

Obama's revenge against Donald Trump

2011-05-10T12:13:00.000-07:00

This had me in stitches!

Puppy's First Day Home

2011-05-07T09:22:00.000-07:00

Precious came home on April 28th, the day of the big wind storm in Southern Ontario.
The pup didn't seemed alarmed with the 100 kph winds even though they took down a section of fence & trashed our two gazebos.
On that first day Precious learned to use Monty's old deck ramp. Within a day or two she learned to handle stairs - at least going up - she still hasn't been brave enough to go down the basement stairs.
Sweety showed initial curiosity toward the pup but really didn't play with her until day 10. But she readily shares her beds & toys!

Precious - The new addition!

2011-04-26T13:53:00.000-07:00

A new puppy comes home April 28th to join Sweety! Life won't be the same once the Sweety & Precious Show starts!
She is a Golden Retriever pup. Not a replacement for Monty, but Spring is a time for new beginnings...

Charlie Sheen tune

2011-03-10T07:08:00.000-08:00

Now here's a topical, viral tune on YouTube:

2 Air Reserve Wing 2010 New Year Chat part 1

2011-03-03T12:27:00.000-08:00

Repost of earlier Blog item my 2 ARW 2010 New Year Chat part 1, now on YouTube. Per Ardua Ad Astra!

2 Air Reserve Wing 2010 New Year Chat part 2

2011-03-03T12:19:00.000-08:00

Repost of my earlier 2ARW 2010 New Year Chat part 2, now posted on YouTube.

Message from a former alumni

2011-03-03T10:42:00.001-08:00

Add Me...! Previous 400 Squadron member out of CFB Downsview , during the Otter and C-45 era...
ended up flying for the US Army during the 'Nam years.....
Freddy..Thank You..! I served with Bill Humphrey and Barry Hubbard ! It is with regret that we meet at
sad occasions , mainly funerals.....
I flew the fixed wing in the US Army... L-19 and the T-42 Beech Baron at Ft. Rucker , Alabama..
Ft. Stewart, Ga
FAC at the Artillery School in Oklahoma, Ft.Sill
and later took my Air Traffic Control at Keesler AFB in Mississippi....
when I returned to Canada , worked at YYZ-YHM-YOW-YTZ...
worked at de Havilland .....worked at the San Jose Jet Centre in California .....LOTS of history !
I did attend US Army reunions, but drug abuse, alcohol, divorces, suicides had taken its toll of the ranks....
..a book that did disclose the Canadian participation (3000+) in 'Nam came out called :
Unknown Warriors: Canadians in Vietnam by Fred Gaffen

Freddy, Thank you for your consideration, Mike

Michael Gantwerger

2 RSU Crew

2011-03-03T06:36:00.001-08:00

Here's a photo recently received from Rollie Reeves of some of the RSU techs at Downsview in the late 1970s.

I recall everyone in your photo with the exception of the fellow at the left rear, McKenzie - just doesn't ring any bells at all.
Next to him is Barry Millward (who I recall curling with once). (Sean?) Dougherty, IE tech. Mo is next (possibly Morris).
Pete McAllister, who was on our infamous flight to Myrtle Beach. He's been deceased for several years & I do recall he was a good time Charlie kind of guy & even in death women were fighting over him!
At the right rear is Dick Raymond.
Left front is Rollie Reeves. Next is Rick Felker, "Bobsy Twin" of Pete McAllister & the two of them had lots of adventures during my time in the late '70s.
Sgt Dick Bull - classy guy. (Ron?) Adams - Safety Systems, I think.
And at the right front is my mentor - "Shorty" Beaune. Great fellow. Wonder whatever happened to him?

Wally Jaremko

2011-03-03T06:29:00.000-08:00

Sad to hear about Wally's passing. I had the pleasure of meeting him for the 1st time at Bill Bishop's gathering in August 2010.

Lt. Col. Walter William Jaremko

LT. COL. WALTER WILLIAM JAREMKO, CD, BASc(Tor), PEng, OBV Passed away after a courageous battle with cancer at Toronto Grace Hospital on Friday, February 18, 2011, with his family by his side. Husband of Evelyn Vingilis and beloved father of Larissa Vingilis- Jaremko. Father to Stephanie and her husband Mark Kimmerer, Christine Jaremko and Michael Jaremko. Loving grandfather of Jake and Luke. Fondly remembered by cousin Bernice and her husband Russel Mokriy and family. Much loved by the Vingilis and O'Connor families, Evelyn Vingilis Sr., sister- and brother-in-law Violet and Paul O'Connor and nephew and niece Andrew and Rachel. Walter was Commanding Officer of 400 (City of Toronto) (F) Squadron RCAF, Member of Etobicoke Lawn Bowling Club, Past President of Humber Valley Radio Control Flyers, Past President of Humber Seniors Curling Club and Member of Chalet Golfers. Resting at the NEWEDIUK FUNERAL HOME, KIPLING CHAPEL, 2058 Kipling Ave. (north of Rexdale Blvd.), from Monday 2 to 4 and 6 to 9 p.m., Panakhyda on Monday at 7:30 p.m. Funeral Tuesday, February 22, 2011, leaving the funeral home at 9:30 a.m. for Divine Liturgy from St. Demetrius Church, 135 La Rose Avenue at 10 a.m. Cremation to follow. (As expressions of sympathy, donations can be made to the Canadian Association for Girls in Science, 6519-B Mississauga Rd., Mississauga, Ontario L5N 1A6). Online condolences at newediukfuneralhome.com

Thank you Card from the Canadian Forces

2011-02-24T13:44:00.000-08:00

Just received an official "thank you" card from the soldiers of the Canadian Forces in Afghanistan, for the gifts of Tim Horton Coffee Cards that we sent over the Holidays & New Year, for our Coffee For Kandahar initiative.
Our thanks to Bill Bishop & Gary Alexander - the hosts of the 400 Squadron gathering in August 2010 for their contribution to this.

Las Vegas February 2011

2011-02-16T15:27:00.000-08:00

From our most recent trip to Vegas. Photos from our iPhones of the Cosmopolitan, car collection at the Imperial Palace, the Monte Carlo, Minus 5 ice bar, Andes cigar lounge, etc. The Music is some instrumental bits that I pieced together in Garageband.

LeDuan's Bar Tricks

2011-01-27T17:18:00.000-08:00

From our latest trip to Sandals in Varadero, Cuba during December 2010. LeDuan has worked the Lobby Bar & the Piano Bar but now he's at the Pool Bar - where he can best perform his bar tricks! He may be a bit rusty though...

2011-01-27T17:15:00.000-08:00

Shots from our 4th trip to this comfortable beach resort. Maggie, Maybel, Mariagna, LeDuan, Juanki, Roberto, Carlos, Carlitos, Leonis, Yanie, Jose, Osvani, Big Alex, and probably a few others.

Monty & Sweetie - The Final Show

2011-01-27T17:09:00.000-08:00

Our pets were our "Entertainment Center". And for almost 11 years Montana (Monty) our Golden Retriever was a source of joy for us. Sadly he became too weak & on January 26. 2011 we had to put him down. The 4th dog that we have had to do that. I believe that for me Monty was the best of those boys. Sadly missed by us, especially by his companion Sweetie.

Obama does Gilbert & Sullivan

2011-01-13T07:02:00.000-08:00

400/411 Squadron Notices: Gathering & death of G. Georgas

2010-11-22T12:31:00.000-08:00

Good day Gentlemen and Ladies
It's that time of year again, In just 13 days (Friday December 3) when all the guys and dolls ( That's is all you Gentlemen and Ladies of 411 ) and yes some of our fellow comrades from 400 and 2 arw can come and have a good old chat about the good things and crazy things we did. And just to catch up on how life is going in general.
The place Katz's Deli on Dufferin street almost across from Yorkdale shopping Mall just north of Lawrence
Time from 10:00 am to 3;00 pm
If you know of anyone I missed on the e-mail list please let them know and if possible please send me their e-mail address to me so that I may have it for further e-mails

J.Tapper
skipper049

George Michael Georgas

GEORGE MICHAEL GEORGAS Peacefully passed away on Friday, November 12, 2010 at North York General Hospital at the age of 77. Beloved husband of the late Jean (2009). Loving father of Greg and Susan. Dear brother of Joe, Lorraine and Stephen. George will be fondly remembered by all his family and friends. Colonel George Georgas was a former President of the Toronto Chapter of the Canadian Aviation Historical Society. George was born in Lindsay, ON attending public and high school there. He later graduated from the Aeronautical Engineering School, University of Toronto. While attending Univeristy of Toronto, George joined the RCAF University Reserve Training Plan and trained as a Pilot on the Texan, Harvard, T-33 and Vampire. After receiving his wings and the Queen's commission as a Pilot Officer he joined 400 City of Toronto Auxiliary Squadron where he flew Harvards, T-33s, Expeditors and DHC Otters over the next 22 years. George was Commanding Officer of 400 Squadron from 1957 to 1970 and was posted to No. 2 Air Reserve Wing, Downsview, which he commanded from 1973 to 1976, when he retired from the Air Reserve. During 1955, George was hired by de Havilland Canada where he eventually worked for 35 years. He was employed in the Engineering Design Department on the Caribou and in the Engineering Experimental Flight Test Department on the Caribou, Turbo-Beaver, Buffalo and a variety of experimental projects including the FHE Hydrofoil. George later joined the Marketing and Sales Department. Friends may call on Tuesday, November 23, 2010 from 2-4 and 7-9 p.m. at the R.S. Kane Funeral Home (6150 Yonge Street, at Goulding, south of Steeles). A Memorial Service will be held on Wednesday, November 24, 2010 at 11:00 a.m. in the Chapel. In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to SickKids Foundation. Condolenceswww.rskane.ca

Mosquito Bomber Video

2010-11-22T06:33:00.000-08:00

Great WW2 footage on the Mosquito.

Bill Bishop's 400 squadron reunion 2010

2010-10-23T09:57:00.000-07:00

Bill Bishop's 400 Squadron reunion gathering held on August 10/10.
A wonderful time for us old "flyboys"!

Crackers - "Gracie"

2010-09-04T08:24:00.000-07:00

A co-worker told me about this band. I'd not heard of them or the tune. There isn't much (if any) info on them, other than they were Canadian, from the 70s, and played lots of bars across the country.

Jackie Evancho - juvenile singing sensation Aug 31 on AGT

2010-09-02T08:42:00.000-07:00

Well she did it again! Showing that she can sing with the best of them, Jackie has landed into the Top Ten on America's Got Talent.

Jackie Evancho - juvenile singing sensation

2010-08-12T08:10:00.000-07:00

I saw this performance the night of August 10, 2010 and I'm still blown away by this 10 year old girl's angelic gift! It's amazing that such a mature, perfect, operatic voice comes out of a tiny, young body!

Vulcan Bomber takes to the air

2010-08-09T11:53:00.000-07:00

The Avro Vulcan, one of my favourite aircraft, makes a flight at Farnborough 2010.
Looked great in the 1950's & still does!

The DiVinyls "I Touch Myself"

2010-07-28T13:39:00.000-07:00

I loved the Divinyls song "I Touch Myself". And if you recall the "Fembot" scene from the one Mike Myer's "Austin Powers" movie, you'll recall the song played there. Watch the video below & you may love this Australian band & the lead singer, too!

Here's a NYC concert in 1991 that Christina is at her erotic best!

On TV in 1991...toned down!

And then in a 1993 concert:

CF 18 Crash in Lethbridge Alberta

2010-07-28T13:16:00.000-07:00

Photos from the July 2010 crash of the CF-18. Thanks to Richard Simpson for forwarding these.

Homemade Flying Hovercraft

2010-07-21T05:24:00.000-07:00

Another remarkable aircraft!

Solar Plane

2010-07-21T05:10:00.000-07:00

Solar plane lands after completing 26-hour flight
Record feat completes seven years of planning and brings project one step closer to goal of circling globe using only energy from
the sun
Eliane Engeler
Payerne, Switzerland — The Associated Press Published on Thursday, Jul. 08, 2010 5:22AM EDT Last updated on Thursday, Jul.
08, 2010 7:07PM EDT
An experimental solar-powered plane landed safely Thursday after completing a 26-hour test flight, proving
that the aircraft can collect enough energy from the sun during the day to stay aloft all night.
Pilot Andre Borschberg eased the Solar Impulse onto the runway at Payerne airfield about 50 kilometres
southwest of the Swiss capital Bern at exactly 9 a.m. local time Thursday.
Helpers rushed to stabilize the pioneering plane as it touched down, ensuring that its massive 63-metre
wingspan didn't scrape the ground and topple the craft.
The record feat completes seven years of planning and brings the Swiss-led project one step closer to its goal of
circling the globe using only energy from the sun.
“We achieved more than we wanted. Everybody is extremely happy,” Mr. Borschberg told reporters after
landing.
Previous flights included a brief “flea hop” and a longer airborne test earlier this year, but this week's attempt
was described as a “milestone” by the team.
The team says it has now demonstrated that the single-seat plane can theoretically stay in the air indefinitely,
recharging its depleted batteries using 12,000 solar cells and nothing but the rays of the sun during the day.
But while the team says this proves that emissions-free air travel is possible, it doesn't see solar technology
replacing conventional jet propulsion any time soon.
Instead, the project's overarching purpose is to test and promote new energy-efficient technologies.
Project co-founder Bertrand Piccard, himself a record-breaking balloonist, said many people had been skeptical
that renewable energy could ever be used to take a man into the air and keep him there.
“There is a before and after in terms of what people have to believe and understand about renewable energies,”
Mr. Piccard said, adding that the flight was proof new technologies can help break society's dependence on fossil
fuels.
The team will now set its sights on an Atlantic crossing, before attempting a round-the-world flight in 2013,

making only five stops along the way.
“It's absolutely not time to relax,” said Mr. Piccard.
Mr. Borschberg took off from Payerne airfield into the clear blue sky shortly before 7 a.m. Wednesday, allowing
the plane to soak up plenty of sunshine and fly in gentle loops over the Jura mountains west of the Swiss Alps.
The custom-built aircraft with its thin fuselage and the wingspan of a Boeing 777 passenger jet managed to
climb to 8,535 metres and reached top speeds of over 120 kilometres an hour.
Mr. Borschberg, a 57-year-old former Swiss fighter who was wearing a parachute – just in case – dodged low-
level turbulence and thermal winds, endured freezing conditions during the night and ended the test flight with
a picture-perfect landing to cheers and whoops from hundreds of supports on the ground.
“The night is quite long, so to see the first rays of dawn and the sun returning in the morning – that was a gift”
Mr. Borschberg said after touchdown.
Former NASA chief pilot Rogers E. Smith, one of the project's flight directors, praised Mr. Borschberg's feat of
endurance and the overall success of the mission.
“We ended up with perhaps 20 per cent more energy than we in the most optimistic way projected,” Mr. Smith
told The AP.
After completing final tests on the plane after landing, Mr. Borschberg embraced Mr. Piccard before gingerly
unstrapping himself from the bathtub size cockpit he had spent more than 26 hours sitting in.
“When you took off it was another era,” said Mr. Piccard, who achieved the first nonstop circumnavigation of
the globe in a balloon, the Breitling Orbiter III, in 1999. “You land in a new era where people understand that
with renewable energy you can do impossible things.”

Prop starting an aircraft

2010-07-12T05:03:00.001-07:00

From Bill Humphrey:
This photo is absolutely incredible. It should be a poster for what not to do.
But can you tell what's wrong with it?

Yep, guess you spotted it, too.

Never, never try to prop-start an aircraft without chocking the wheels!
I am sure that caught your eye right away. Right.

Monty & Sweety - our current pooches

2010-07-08T06:35:00.000-07:00

A series of videos highliting Monty the Golden Retriever, and Sweety the Portuguese water Dog. Our faithful companions for the past 10 years.

Roundel Articles

2010-07-07T12:56:00.001-07:00

More articles from the archives of The Roundel.
Click on a page to get the readable view (come on, we're all getting older & to zoom in is good!).

Article on Annual Reserve Forces Week 1959

CF100 Night Watch

RCAF Station History of Camp Borden

411 Squadron History, From Digby to Downsview Part 1

411 Squadron History, From Digby to Downsview Part 2

438 City of Montreal Squadron History (400 Squadron's counterpart at St Hubert)

400 Squadron Memories

2010-06-27T14:18:00.000-07:00

Here's some nostalgic 8mm clips created by The Prof & posted by Bill Bishop of 400 Squadron activity in 1959, during the Expeditor/ beginning of the Otter period. Facinating to see the lads playing baseball & playing at the beach, etc. Not unlike memories of the same activities for me 21 years later.

Cuban Spanish Phrases & Slang part 2

2010-06-19T08:02:00.000-07:00

My most recent attempt at murdering the Spanish language, in contemporary Cuban style. What did Bill Dana use to say..."my name Jose Emenas"?

400 Squadron Reunion at Borden 2002

2010-06-12T15:38:00.000-07:00

With reunion fever in the air for this summer's gathering, and the 80th anniversary of the squadron 2 years away in 2012, I decided to repost photos from my old website of the 70th anniversary gathering at CFB Borden that took place in 2002.

400 Squadron Party August 10th 2010. Richmond Hill Ontario

2010-06-10T04:43:00.000-07:00

The following is from Bill Bishop's Propwash Blog
and all Downsview alumni are welcome to attend.
Please contact Bill to join the party!

400 Squadron PARTY TIME IS DRAWING NEAR !
Well comrades it looks like the making of a great get together. We currently have 34 confirmed attendees.

The date is TUESDAY, AUGUST 10th in Richmond Hill, ON. We will be ready to receive guests starting at 10:00am. Lunch will be served from noon until about 15:00 and dinner from 18:00 until about 21:00.

Lunch will consist of bbq German sausage (with or without bun) and bbq shrimp with garlic lime butter dip or lemon butter dip (no garlic). Bill Bishop will be the Chef for lunch. Red or white wine will be available for those who wish same.

Dinner is our featured meal and will consist of 10oz range feed beef steaks done to your liking. This will be accompanied by bbq mixed veggies (tomatoes, spanish onion slices, zucchini slices, chopped yellow and red peppers, and chopped celery) with secret herbs and spices. There will also be "Patatas Bill" which is bbq potatoe slices with spanish onions, cheeses, and secret herbs and spices).

The meat is being supplied by James MacIntosh (son of comrade Gerry MacIntosh - deceased) who is the marketing manager for Scotch Mountain Meats. James will be the Chef for dinner with Bill acting as his sous chef for the veggies and "Patatas Bill". James will cut the steak to your liking while Garry (who was feeling left out) will act a security guard to ensure no one puts their clammy paws on da grub !

There will be an assortment of finger foods and snack food (assortment of nuts, etc) available throughout the day.

Each attendee is requested to purchase a $15 raffle ticket to defray the cost of food.

Bill Wenham (Air Canada) is a very accomplished artist and has most kindly donated a 21" x 29" acrylic on illustration board painting of a De Havilland Chipmunk (listed at $1,200) which will be won by one of the raffle ticket holders. Draw will take place following dinner.

Bill Wenham has donated the painting shown below to be used as a prize for the $15.00 raffle tickets being sold at our 400 Squadron Bash on August 10th.

It can be seen, along with Bill's aircraft, and other paintings at the St. Catherines Art Association site.

Proceeds of the raffle of this painting will be used to cover the cost of the food at the party and, any amount left over will be donated to Lynn Kuzyk's (Freddy K's wife) project to provide Tim Horton Coffee cards to our troops in Afghanistan. (see Letters from Kandahar post for details)

Anyone who is not able to attend our party on August 10th can purchase a raffle ticket by mailing a cheque in the amount of $15.00 made payable to Wm. H. Bishop (I promise I won't run off with the money), and mailed to Bill @ 1513-5565 Cornwallis St., Halifax, NS B3K 5K9 to arrive prior to July 25, 2010. I will mail a stub of your ticket to the return e-mail or snail mail address you provide. You will be notified by phone should you be a winner so please include a number where you may be reached.

Finally, Bill Wenham has agreed to donate up to 50% of proceeds from anyone in the Squadron family who purchase one of the other three remaining aircraft paintings he has listed at the St. Catherines Art Association Site. AND, he advised he is willing to negotiate the price (within reason) for serious shoppers. Any donations received will be applied to Lynn & Fred's Kandahar project. I have expressed, on behalf of the Squadron's members, our sincere appreciation to Bill for his donations.
The three unsold paintings are depicted below:

Please take the time to view the Directions To Party post which contains a map, photos, addresses and phone numbers.

While a limited supply of white and red wine will be available for meals, you are asked to bring liquid refreshment of your choice .... unfortunately it ain't nickle beer night at the mess this time around.

Please feel free to send a link to our PropWash Blog to any Squadron Members you feel would be interested in attending. They will be most welcome.

And it's not too late to join the List of Attendees yourself.

See ya on the 10th of August !

Yesterday's Thoughts

2010-06-03T06:15:00.000-07:00

Some musings on an email about Captain Kangaroo & Mister Rogers war records.
You can't believe everything on the internet but sometimes it nice to...

Highway of Heroes - The Trews

2010-06-01T12:45:00.000-07:00

This video & the Canadian band behind the song (The Trews) has been gaining a lot of attention. Rightfully so...

Joe Hall - Vampire Beavers

2010-05-31T13:41:00.000-07:00

Someone requested more Canadian comedy tunes from Joe Hall, so here's another classic,
Vampire Beavers.

Sandals Varadero Cuba

2010-05-15T13:42:00.000-07:00

One of our favourite haunts is Sandals Royal Hicacos in Varadero Cuba. We've been to the resort 3 times and many times to Cuba since 1994.
Here's some photos from our recent trip there at the beginning of May.

Pelican

Gettin' Old Music Video

2010-05-15T10:31:00.000-07:00

Here's a video created by 400 Squadron alumni Ken Moores. Great music & lyrics (as always), nice job on the visuals, and the topic of the song "Gettin' Old" is one we all can relate to! At least I can!!

Check it out at Ken's site:

http://www.kenmoores.com/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=56&Itemid=74

2RSU Alumni Rick Richarz - "Father Goose"

2010-04-24T06:17:00.000-07:00

Sometimes one wonders "where are they now"? I recall Rick Richarz from my Air Force days at CFB Toronto, when he was with the 2RSU. He was the builder of the Canteen at the hangars. Also the man behind the VIP Otter 3669, which had the the comfortable cabin. Well today he is President of the Bronte Legion in Oakville, Canada and also Father Goose from this April 2010 news story that I stumbled across.

Ke$ha - Tik Tok on SNL, Apr 17 2010

2010-04-18T08:55:00.000-07:00

I've seen a lot of bands over the years on Saturday Night Live. Most of the time, it's just OK. But this performance was one of those rare occassions where a newgroup got my attention! Great catchy tune & innovative choreography, costumes, and staging. The new Dance music artists are quite something!

Ke$ha - Love is my Drug on SNL Apr 17, 2010

2010-04-18T08:47:00.000-07:00

Wall Riding in India

2010-04-14T16:47:00.000-07:00

There's no way that the safety nazis would allow this to happen in North America today!