Another crybaby story.

I just read where some service member was whimpering over the call sign he got was too personal.

Bwaaah!

Over the years, the military aviation community has been pretty practical over communications and eons ago the aviators figured out that once they were in the air that cumbersome military titles were doing more harm than good over the radio.

Bomber crews used each others first name because saying something like “Corporal, Jones, there is an enemy fighter approaching us off the starboard beam!” was a little cumbersome.

“Larry, bandit at 3 O’clock!” was more efficient.

Fighter pilots used call signs, which were simple nicknames.

Anyone that has ever seen the movie ‘Top Gun’ knows what I mean. The call signs ‘Maverick’, “Goose” and “Ice man” are examples of this.

Call sign names come from the damnedest places. Some of them are naturals. A guy named Hambleton may become ‘Hambone’, a guy with a last name of Marks may become ‘Skid’.

Other sources are something a person has done, either good or bad. Sometimes just having a traffic accident can earn a call sign. One aviator got into an accident while driving a Ford and wound up with the call sign of ‘Mustang’.

These can sometimes be a little on the rough side, but such is the nature of aviators. I have no problem with that. Since women have entered the ranks of naval aviation, I’m certain the call signs have been cleaned up a bit.

There is a lot of good natured banter in the aviation business and it has been there since day one.

Now some damned butter bar ensign got his panties in a wad over the call sign bestowed upon him by his peers. He made a stink and it seems to be working its way up.

We’ll see how that goes, but I hope this little snit only give him a different call sign. ‘Cry baby’ comes to mind.

Or better yet, give EVERY Naval aviator a swishy call sign.

That way a dog fight would sound more like a catfight between two jealous hillbilly women at the Pumpkin Center barn dance.

I can see the artwork on the pilot’s helmets. Stenciled on it is his call sign, ‘Lovey Dove’, surrounded by a bunch of little pink hearts.

Picture this in the Combat Information Center:

There we see the Commander, Air Group (CAG), a tough Curtis Lemay cigar chomping type, listening to transmissions from his flight of fighters, who are engaged in a dogfight with hostile aircraft.

“Cupcakes break right!! Sweet cheeks, when the bandit follows him get on his six and splash him!”

“Roger, Honeybunch.”

A pacing CAG is heard to mutter, “Sweetcheeks, get in there and scratch his eyes out!”



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