Читать книгу Vignettes - Life's Tales Book Two - William M.D. Baker - Страница 6

The year is 1947. I am twenty years old and a Sergeant in the Army Air Corps (soon to be the United States Air Force), single, living in the barracks, assigned as an Instructor in the Machine Accounting School (IBM Punched Card Accounting Machines, referred to as PCAM.). Master Sergeant “Pinky” Cochran is the Non-Commissioned Office-in-Charge (NCOIC) of the school.

Pinky is an “old Sarge”. By that, it means he is not to be toyed with. He is fair and honest. He demands the best you can do and will accept nothing less and he can be your best friend or your worst enemy, all at the same time. You do your best to stay on the “good side” of Pinky. Pinky is in his young thirties, married with three children, he comes from Louisiana and has the drawl of a Louisiana fisherman.

As an instructor, I was allowed to patronize the Non-Commissioned Officer’s Club which Pinky frequented on a regular basis. On one occasion I became quite inebriated, made a fool of myself and was facing charges until Pinky stepped in and had me put under his direct control. At the time, I would rather have had brig time, but there I was on Pinky’s leash. His leash was very short, extremely short and I was soon the best behaving, most disciplined instructor in the school. Not only that, I had become buddy-buddy with Pinky. When he needed help doing something he called on me. When it was time to go to chow he sought me out. On Fridays and it was ten cent beer at the NCO Club we went together. On weekends we went fishing. We did a lot of fishing.

I was instructing officers on the use of IBM PCAM, a four week course. The training gave the officer an understanding of how each machine worked and how it should be employed, but stopped short of teaching how to wire or operate the equipment. Pinky often set in my classes to observe and later give me suggested improvements. In some ways, Pinky was like a big brother to me.

In November of that year I was married and in December I passed the tests for attending Officer’s Candidate School (OCS). I recall the day, the time and the place that Pinky learned I was going to OCS. He had, of course, known that I was taking the tests and appearing before the Board, but I truly do not think that he thought I’d be going. Not that I couldn’t pass the entrance requirements, but that he saw me as following more in step with his career pattern.

Less than two years later I returned as a 2nd Lieutenant, soon promoted to 1st Lieutenant, and in charge of the school. Pinky is still the NCOIC. At first, there is some awkwardness between Pinky and myself as we take on our respective roles and the relationship of Enlisted to Officer and vice versa. My problem was that I still saw Pinky as the “Old Sarge” instead of a subordinate. I found myself seeking direct advice from Pinky and then discarding the advice in favor of my own thinking. I was learning the lessons of an old adage, “Familiarity breeds!”...and in the case of the military, it breeds, “contempt”. Our relationship became very tenuous and it could be felt by others in the school.

My superior was Major Frank R. Burr, an ex-cavalry officer who thought the machines would run better if they were polished! Pinky and he were mortal enemies On one occasion, Major Burr thinking Pinky had violated his order, ordered me to report to him with Sergeant Cochran. I summoned Pinky and we both reported. After some explanations and a dressing-down Major Burr turned to Pinky and said, “Do you have anything you want to say to me?” I am sure Major Burr was expecting Pinky to apologize. Instead, Pinky said, “Yes Sir, if I were an officer of equal rank, or higher, I would tell you, you are a no-good Son of a Bitch!” Major Burr sat ashen faced, Pinky and I both saluted, did an About Face and exited with Burr never saying a word, then or later.

This occurrence sat hard with me for I saw the basis of Pinky’s comment, “Ignorance is not an excuse to command.” Also, I saw where I had failed Pinky by allowing my superior to give a direct command to one of my subordinates. Pinky had taken the bullet. Pinky was the “Old Sarge”, he knew his job to perfection and was seldom in need of advice. He taught me a lot. Not just about PCAM, but how to be an Officer, how to learn from subordinates and to accept my mistakes.

In the remaining time that I was in charge of the school Pinky and I found our relationships, he as Sergeant Cochran and me as Lieutenant Baker. But, and most importantly, we regained our friendship and bond of years before and spent many hours together working the streams of the Colorado Rocky Mountains.

From the school at Lowry Air Force Base I was transferred to Headquarters, Allied Air Forces in Central Europe in Fontainebleau, France (See Book One : “Working for Air Chief Marshall Sir Basil Embry.”) Throughout my career I often reflected on the lessons learned from Master Sergeant “Pinky” Cochran. Strange as it may seem, I do not believe I ever knew his first name.

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