Chapter 37

Don was sitting on a wooden bench outside of the detachment headquarters building waiting to see the detachment commander, Major Dale Highway. The orderly room troll told him to wait outside, and they would call Don in. No wonder his call sign was “Hershey.” Making Don sit outside like this in the Saudi sun? What an asshole.

The sun was blazing in Don’s eyes, and he put his shaded sand goggles on over his thick, Air Force Issue “BCD glasses.” They’re called BCD glasses, meaning Birth Control Device. They’re so ugly that nobody wearing those things will ever get laid. Lanh doesn’t mind their looks, so Don wears them instead of store-bought glasses because they’re free. Finally, Senior Airman Cross called Don into the orderly room. “What is this all about?” Don asked.

“I don’t know, but he’s pissed about something.”

Don racked his brain for anything that Hershey Highway could be angry about, then remembered Staff Sergeant Leonard “Bones” McCoy. Bones was one of the weapons guys who got a little too carried away the last time they went to the Naval base in Bahrain. Drinking is not legal in Saudi Arabia, but just across the bridge in Bahrain, it’s very legal. Bones got plowed and had to be wrestled to the ground by the Navy Shore Patrol. He was in the bowling alley on base trying “Transversal Bowling” which was bowling crosswise across the bowling lanes. He was lobbing the 10 lbs. kid’s balls across the lanes as far as he could. Don was “Troop Commander” on that morale run to Bahrain and Bones was in deep shit, but they couldn’t bust him right away. They were short on weapons troops.

There were a few other forms of mayhem on this rotation, but it was all just silly grab ass stuff that five years ago the Air Force wouldn’t have noticed. So, what was Hershey’s major malfunction? Finally, Airman Cross led Don to Major Highway’s office and said, “He wants you to report. You better put your shirt on.”

Don groaned. Nobody in Saudi Arabia wore their uniform shirt, they were made of winter weight material! They all ran around in dark green or black t-shirts. He pulled his uniform shirt on, and Airman Cross tugged at the rolled-up sleeves. “Don’t” snapped Don. “I’ll risk it.” Don ran through the reporting procedure in his mind. It’s been a long time since he had to do it. He banged his knuckles on the door as hard as he could and it was really, really loud.

“Enter,” called Major Highway.

Don walked in and saluted. “Sir, Technical Sergeant Campbell reports.”

Highway glared at a piece of paper in his hand, then looked up at Don and finally returned the salute, but he left Don at attention for a long time. He finally said, “Stand at ease, sergeant.” Don went to Parade Rest then Major Highway said, “I don’t know what the hell is going on back stateside, but we are waiting for a call from Colonel Gilliam’s office.”

Oh shit! The wing commander! What the hell is going on? Finally, the phone rang, and Major Highway picked it up and said, “Highway.” He listened for a moment, then said, “Ok, put it through.” A moment later he said, “Ma’am, this is Major Dale Hershey, commander of Det 37 of the Forty-Four Oh Fourth provisional wing here at King Aziz-Abdul Airbase, please standby for Sergeant Campbell.” He looked up at Don and handed him the phone and said, “At ease sergeant, take this. It’s your wife.”

“What the ... Hello? Honey?”

“Don! What wrong? They drag me to wing commander office to talk to you at midnight! Are you ok?” It was clearly Lanh, and she was clearly agitated. Her voice now had a deep Vietnamese accent, her words were barely discernable English.

Just as he was about to answer, Major Highway handed a note to Don and told him to read it. Don opened the folded page and saw the words written on it and groaned “Oh you sons of ... you got me.” The note said, “Congratulations, your line number for Master Sergeant is 2308.”

“Baby what!” cried Lanh.

“I made master sergeant baby; I’m getting promoted.”

Lanh whooped and said, “Oh I’m so happy for you! And let Highway know that this was the best trick yet!”

He covered the mouthpiece and said, “My wife says this was the best trick yet.”

“I wish I had a picture of your face,” said Highway.

“You were in on this too?” Don asked both Highway and Lanh.

Highway grinned and nodded as Lanh said, “Oh yes, we had a long talk this afternoon,” and she dropped the excited accent. “They visited me today and told me what they would do, I’m on the autovon phone in Colonel Gilliam’s office, he has news for you too, but not as good as mine. Here’s Daniel...”

Daniel? Lanh is on first name basis with the Wing Commander? Of course she is, groaned Don inwardly.

“Sergeant Campbell, this is Colonel Gilliam.”

“Yes sir,” Don sounded both nervous and relieved.

“I’ve been in the Air Force over twenty years,” said Colonel Gilliam, “and in my entire career I’ve never, ever had the opportunity to say the following words, so here goes. I received notice from the base education office that the University of North Dakota, Grand Forks has approved your doctoral thesis. Congratulations Doctor Campbell, you are a PhD. Major Hershey will hand you a copy of the notice I received.”