From the Ashes of 391

“Practical Jokes and Sanity” It seems that most guys acquire a nickname. As I stated, mine was O.B. and O.B. stood for “political Morse.” I also was very shy and blushed easily when embarrassed. So much so that I was called “Scarlett.” Therefore, I was known to some as “the Scarlett O.B.,” or just “O.B.,” or perhaps as “Scarlett.” Because I was also from Alabama, a few referred to me as “Reb.” I did not take offense to whatever I was called as it was in good-natured fun. We all got along very well together and few if any problems or disagreements arose. We played lots of pranks on each other, especially while we were actually intercepting. That was to break the tension and served almost as a relief valve for us. “O.B., do you need any Fallopian tubes?” the nug with the clipboard asked. I was busy rolling the frequency spectrum looking for unidentified transmitters and was surprised and confused by the unexpected question. “What’s that?” I asked. Someone standing behind the new guy was grinning and gesturing to play along so I knew the joke was on. “Do you need any fallopian tubes for your receivers?” I pretended to check by adjusting several knobs and replied “Yes, I do. Receiver A needs one.” “Male or female?” he asked. “Female,” I answered. “Nothing for B?” I pretended to check B receiver and said, “Yeah, better take care of B, too.” “One or two, male or female?” he asked. “Two, male,” I responded. He wrote the info down on the clipboard and stepped over to the VCIB operator (Viet Communist Intelligence Net interceptor). I looked back at the grinning guy who seemed to be behind the joke and he signaled that I would get the low down later. For now, keep a straight face was the order of the day. After the newby (new baby) had finished taking orders for Fallopian tubes from all of us, he turned the list in and was congratulated on the fine and complete job that he had done. To be sure, no one had ever done better!