For quite a while I lived off post and for the last year in a one bedroom apartment in a pretty nice apartment complex. So did a number of junior officers which was no problem.
However my platoon leader lived there along with his West Point roomie. Sometimes there would be complex gatherings which generally meant free food and a chance to meet the neighbors, especially young female neighbors.
After having to dodge the lieutenant a couple of times at the first gathering I decided to have a quiet word with him and suggested that at the parties I address him as 'Hank' and he address me as Piccolo.
My reasoning was that about 95% of the residents were not in the military and didn't understand the rank structure and the officer/enlisted thing and would be uncomfortable with it.
When I approached the lieutenant I explained that the only time I would do this is when other residents were within earshot. I pointed out that I didn't want to make the 'social director' or others uncomfortable.
"We think alike," he said, thoughtfully. "Actually I was thinking the same thing in a way. I'll tell Jim." Jim was his roomie.
From then on it was still Lieutenant and Specialist if any residents were not within earshot but Hank and Piccolo if they were. I never abused it and respected him more for his decision in giving me the OK to make things a little more comfortable for the others.
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I seldom dealt with Army nurses other than a couple of times when I brought someone to the hospital as what was usually the result of stupidity. Someone would do something stupid and get hurt. One guy managed, with great effort, to drop the anvil he was trying to steal from Wile E. Coyote on his foot. The medics ordered him to skip the dispensary and go directly to the hospital. I don't remember why but I was told to come along by the medic NCOIC.
I'd generally address nurses as 'Ma'am' or 'Nurse'. While addressing a nurse as 'Nurse' could possibly be shaky, the rules really said that an officer was to be treated with courtesy and respect. The title 'Nurse' fit the bill and while not universally used, it was a courteous title.
I only recall having one problem with that and the nurse in question was very likely less than a week out of her military orientation course. I addressed her as 'Nurse.'
She snapped, "I'm a lieutenant."
"Yes, Ma'am." I replied. "Officers are to be addressed with courtesy and respect. I did just that. You are a nurse AND a second lieutenant. This means you have never been promoted. I am a PFC and have been promoted twice. Second lieutenants are not thought of highly. Nurses are considered priceless..."
I heard a voice bark, "PFC!"
I turned, popped to and saw he was an MD. "Yes, Doctor," I replied and watched him suppress a smirk.
"PFC, you will address the lieutenant as Ma'am or her rank until such time as she earns the title 'Nurse'.
"Yes, Sir." I replied. (Quit while you are ahead. I didn't want to push it.)
"Dismissed!
I went to some kind of waiting room and called Top and told him I didn't know what was happening. He told me to hang out and wait until I knew what was going on and not to get into any trouble with the nurses. I rolled my eyes.
Later on around noon the doctor walked by and saw me sitting there.
"Hey, PFC, C'mon. I'll buy you lunch!"
He didn't have to ask me twice.
He explained to me that the nurse I crossed swords with was only a week or two out of school and didn't understand the Army yet. He said she seemed to have talent and that he had a quiet word with her and pointed out I was 100% spot on when I had told her I had been promoted twice. I think she told her that most PFCs knew more about the Army than she did.
I shifted the conversation to him and his plans. Like many MDs in the service he was paying back the Army for various scholarships. He was actually considering making the Army a career, citing the problems of opening a private practice. I told him an 0-5 pension after 20 years service wasn't too bad and that an O-6 pension after 30 was pretty good money.
"But what after that?" he asked.
"Hmm...Maybe you could get a gig as the Chief gynecologist for the Peppermint Lounge," I said and he spit his coffee back into his cup to keep if from coming out his nose.
"That's just plain nasty," he snapped but I knew he wasn't angry.
"Yeah, isn't it? But they pay in cash and that's a 20% increase because you don't have to report it! " I replied. He laughed like hell. "Still, with 20, say 25 years as a military doctor serving GIs, dependents, and retirees is a pretty good cutaway of America. A lot of good hospitals would want to snap you up."
"Thanks for the input," he said. "My wife and I are discussing that. Still, I owe a couple of years to the Army. By the time I'm even with them I'll only have about 12 years left before retirement."
"If you can pick up any schools the mean time it counts toward retirement," I said. He agreed.
He went back to work and I went back to the waiting area. Sometime about 1430 I checked and reported the patient would be overnight because he needed some kind of foot surgery. I called Top and filled him in. Surprisingly, he told me to just go home.
The next day at the noon formation Top called for me to report to the orderly room and he and I went into the Battery Commander's office.
The BC told me he had gotten a phone call from the doctor and the good doctor had spoken very highly of me. "Now what happened?"
I thought quickly. I had done no wrong that was likely to initiate even an Article 15 so I fell back to default and told them both the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
The BC interrupted me. "You told him he could pick up a retirement job at the Peppermint Lounge? What did he say about that." He looked amused.
"He said it sounded pretty nasty but when I pointed out they pay cash and if he kept his mouth shut and didn't report it it would mean about 20% over the going rate would go directly into his pocket he appeared interested. Coupled with retirement pay that ain't chickenfeed, Sir." They both laughed like hell.
I finished my story and was told to wait outside. I could hear the pair of them whispering and laughing their asses off for a few minutes and was called back in.
PFC Piccolo, in addition to your duties as battery armorer you are appointed and the Unofficial Ambassador to the Base Hospital. You will perform your duties as needed.
"I'll tell the medics," Top chuckled. He turned to the BC. "That's as funny as the time he told us about his mother mistaking an Air Force colonel for being a bellhop."
A little over a year later, just before I was transferred to another battalion as a Sp/5 one of our guys got into a motorcycle accident on the way in to work. I don't know who scraped him up or how word got to the medics so fast but the medic's section chief saw me headed toward formation and said, "Hey, Pic. Shag ass to the hospital. Stacy Aldridge dumped his bike on the way to work!"
Skipping formation I went straight to the hospital. I found out Stacy had been admitted Ok and was being looked at. I figured formation had broken up so I called Top and reported my findings.
"Thanks," he said. "Doc covered for you in formation. You did the right thing going as soon as you got the word."
About an hour or so later I called again with a SITREP and told Top that it looked like Stacy was not going anywhere for a while as he had gotten pretty busted up. I was told to return to the battery and take care of things in my arms room.
The following day after morning formation without being told I had the clerk cover my arms room. No weapons were slated to be issued. I swung by the hospital and checked up on Stacy and reported to Top that Stacy was pretty busted up and would most likely be laid up for a while and need therapy. Top thanked me.
I visited Stacy a few times and casually reported updates to either the BC or Top but looking back on it I never found out what finally happened to him. I was reassigned to another battalion.
That's another story.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this:
http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
