A Pocket of Resistance: Another, and probably final (for real) “F” Word Story

For those who are against profanity, beware…again. And i lied again (or simply forgot) because while writing this story, i remembered another classic “F” word story. So there is at least one more coming, and i’m no longer declaring anything the “last one.”

With the story about JD’s dad, i thought i had exhausted my supply of “F” word stories. Then this morning, i woke up with one of the best ones, untold here, in my head.

i think it was the first “F” word story i heard from JD, the legend in the Navy’s aviation community. It may have been the first funny story he ever told me but not the first hilarious thing in which he and i were involved.

JD was a petty officer in the aviation maintenance shop for F-14’s at Miramar when it was a Naval Air Station (remember “Top Gun”?). His work center was run by a crusty old chief petty officer who had his own office separate from the work centers’ spaces. Communication between the chief and his crew was often accomplished through the 24MC, one of the archaic voice communication boxes (they looked like a huge drive-in speaker; remember them?) with buttons to select for connecting to various other spaces via a loud speaker.

The maintenance guys, being sailors, decided to yank the chief’s chain. So they devised a plan. The speaker system was connected to a number of offices and work spaces and the receiver of the call could not be identified. So the gang gathered around their 24MC, punched the button to the chief’s office, and one petty officer said, “Hey Chief, do you know who this is?”

The chief responded, “No, who is this?”

The petty officer responded, “Well, fuck you!”

The chief called all of his work centers together, chewed them all out since he didn’t know who the culprit was, and declared he was going to find out the guilty and make them pay.

The maintenance shop would lay low for several weeks and then repeat the call.

The chief, livid and frustrated, would chew everyone out again, and swear he would get the perpetrators.

In JD’s work center, there was a new kid, an airman named Farber. Farber quickly established he was not too bright and had a penchant for screwing up almost everything he attempted. But he was fascinated with the joke the gang played on the chief, and asked continually to be the one to call the chief.

The leaders of the joke replied, “No, Farber, you would just screw it up and get us all in trouble.

But Farber continued to bug everyone, and finally tired of Farber’s insistence, the gang said he could do it but only after hours of practice and several dry runs done perfectly. Farber agreed and worked hard practicing, punching the imaginary button, running through the two sections of calling and cussing the chief. After several weeks, the crew agreed Farber was ready after going through the routine perfectly several times.

Everyone gathered around the 24 MC as Farber leaned into the speaker and punched the button to the chief’s office.

Farber: “Chief, do you know who this is?”

As usual the chief responded, “No, who is this.”

With success just a reply away, Farber came back: “This is Farber, Fuck you!”

The work center was immediately mustered before the chief.

JD didn’t tell me of what the chief’s revenge consisted, but he did acknowledge the joke was discontinued.


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