Callsigns

Edited out of Radioman:Twenty-Five Years in the Marine Corps

This story was from the original manuscript for Radioman: Twenty-Five Years in the Marine Corps

Contrary to popular culture, callsigns are generally negative in nature. Usually a young aviator is branded by a callsign of their first screw up in a squadron. A young Lieutenant (Lt) who fell off an aircraft while pre-flighting it became “Splat”. Another Lt who bumped into a stationary aircraft while taxiing became “Ding”. “Ginsu” sliced off the refueling basket while air-to-air refueling a helicopter.  “Strap” started up a helicopter while the blades were still tied down. 

 Sometimes callsigns simply make fun of a name like Lt Styles who became “Doggy” or Capt Kling who became “Static”. Sometimes they make fun of a personal characteristic like “ShitBitch”, “Mumbles”or “Shakes”.  “Boink” is the guy that is always brown nosing the CO, when the CO stops walking suddenly, boink!  Another of my favorites is a pilot who had thyroid surgery.  He was left with a large worm-like scar across his throat. His callsign: “Pez”.  “Ghost” is the guy who is never around when there is work to do.  

Sometimes callsigns are acronyms like “PITA”, yes he was a Pain In The Ass. There is “CUT” who even as a Colonel looks like he is 15 years old. “CUT” stands for Child Under Training no matter what he tells you.  I knew a young female Capt whose callsign was “NADS”. I figured it just meant that she could hang with the boys since she was the only female aviator in the squadron. Correct history is that back in the day, the squadron decided to go to the local “gentlemen’s club” and being a team player she went along.  After a few rounds and some reportedly uninspiring dances, she boldly states “I can do better”!  She jumps up on the stage and attempts some pole dancing.  Her second or third move is to wrap her legs around the pole and hang upside down. Well, that didn’t turn out so well and she ended up pile driving herself. “NADS” actually stands for Not A Dancing Stripper. I’m not endorsing those types of activities (squadron night at the local gentlemen’s club) and do report that they really don’t happen anymore.

Sometimes a callsign makes fun of something by being the opposite.  Examples: “Tex” who has a very strong New York accent, or “Tiny” who is anything but. “Curls” is a bald guy. “Razor” was less than brilliant. Sometimes a callsign is just dead on like “Chigger” who was just irritating. 

Sometimes callsigns are just lazy. I’m referring to ones like “Shifty” for a guy with a really long name that starts with ‘Shif’ or a guy named Hesterman being “Hesty”.  Yup, I’m talking about me. That’s not to say that I haven’t had a couple of other callsigns. 

One year for the Marine Corps Ball (a major formal party), the officers rented a bus to take us all to the Ball. The single guys all ended up in the back and since I didn’t bring my wife (ex- wife and a story for another day), I was hanging out with them. Having had a couple of beers, I explained to my single buds why my joke at the first staff meeting (new guy always starts the meeting with a joke) went so poorly. So they convinced me to try it again on the bus. I prepared myself, walked up the aisle to just behind the yellow line at the front of the bus, turned around with part of my anatomy stretched out of my dress blues and yelled “look! I sat in gum!” I was laughing, most of the bus was laughing, the boys in the back were rolling on the floor. The only ones not laughing were the CO and XO wives who were seated less than two feet from me.  I think I got the beans above the franks in my rush to zip up and retreat to the back of the bus. I failed to properly evaluate my audience.

I got “counseled” for my poor behavior and a new callsign: “Chewy”. Six months later I was loaned out to another shorthanded squadron and they already had a “Chewy”. He looked like he was wearing a wool sweater in the shower.  Since I was the outsider, I was again in need of a callsign.

I’m going to skip over the story of my brief stint as “Pillows”. My next callsign came from a dark night where I was leading a flight of three helicopters doing practice landings in small clearings around Camp Lejeune. Picture all the movie footage you have seen of Hueys landing in small clearings in Vietnam.  Of course we weren’t getting shot at and life was pretty good but that was the training effect I was attempting. We were flying along on our way to our next landing zone with the other two aircraft staggered out to my right.  Suddenly my irritable bowel syndrome struck! Focusing on clenching, I yanked the aircraft around in a U-turn to the left, headed for the ground and pulled the nose back into a flare just in time to cushion the landing into a small clearing. I passed controls to my co-pilot and sprinted off into the woods, shedding clothing and gear as I went. Story goes that the other two aircraft landed to see me running into the woods trying to get all my gear off so I could get my flight suit down. Wasn’t the first or last time I flew home without any socks. I became “Duke”.  I guess that is better than my buddy “Turd” or another guy I knew “Snickers”. A few months later, I returned to my home squadron and somehow just became “Hesty” again. Which is fine. I’ve been called Hesty since I was a Private and there is a great Marine Hero named Chesty so I guess I’m not worthy of the “C”. On a whim I did a google search of “Hesty” and found that there is a female chimp in the Denver zoo named Hesty!