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Across the Arizona border from Yuma was a small California town, Winterhaven. It sported some sleazy bars and shady characters that liked to take advantage of the enlisted servicemen from MCAS Yuma. Buzzard and Porky learned that some Sailors and Marines had been beaten up by locals at one particular bar, and vowed to administer some pay-back.
One night, with me in tow, they crossed into Winterhaven and located the bar. After shutting down the bar’s electrical power, they tossed some orange smoke flares into the dark bar, causing the burly patrons to vacate the bar in a panic. As we escaped back to the base, Buzzard remarked, “Another successful mission. VSH!” Such was life in the Red Lightnings.
Porky was not only a great pilot, he was an engineering genius. One of his creations was an analog carrier launch-weight computer, which he built out of spare parts from our avionics shop. During cruise, it was used by the ready room Duty Officer to derive each aircraft’s launch weight for the catapult settings, including any combination of ordnance or fuel. He offered its design to the Navy, but it was rejected as “unnecessary.” The squadron used it anyway.
As we prepared to go on deployment to Vietnam, the staterooms were assigned by the Air Wing, with Porky and Buzzard as roommates. They traveled to North Island whereTiconderoga was docked and looked at their assigned room with disapproval. It needed major upgrading.
Porky loaded up his tools, and he and Buzzard visited the San Diego naval base, where they found an old cruiser being readied for the mothball fleet. Wearing hardhats and posing as “sand crabs” [civilian workers], they went aboard and checked out the cruiser’s Flag spaces. The admiral’s cabin had a beautiful teakwood door in immaculate condition. Porky dismantled it, and they took it back to North Island and installed it on their new stateroom. He then added matching wood paneling to the bulkheads, floor tile, and a marble vanity in place of the prison-like metal wash basin. They installed stereo speakers, along with recessed lighting and a built-in refrigerator. It was a cabin fit for a VIP. But it still lacked one thing — air conditioning. These old ships only had minimal air conditioning, and you had to be senior to get this amenity.
Porky bought a window-style air conditioner at Sears, and installed it. He tapped into a fuse box for power, and with some of the ship’s ducting, vented the hot air into the junior officer bunkroom down the passageway that was inhabited by a group of ship’s officers (”Black Shoes”). It must have been very hot in there, but the poor Black Shoes never caught on.
Porky had a girlfriend in Chula Vista, with whom he had a constantly stormy relationship. She had strayed off the reservation, and was seeing a helicopter pilot from North Island, a double insult. Porky learned that the helo driver was going to do a low fly-over at the woman’s house to impress her. With blood in his eyes, Porky talked the maintenance Chief into giving him an F-8 after lunch, and blasted off on a search-and-destroy mission. After orbiting over south San Diego Bay for a few minutes, he spotted a Navy SH-3 helo crossing the Bay from North Island. He circled overhead, and watched as the ungainly craft headed for Chula Vista.
Porky had made illegal low passes over the woman’s house before, and knew its exact location. As expected, the SH-3 began to hover over her house at about 200′. Porky added power and circled toward this interloper. Coming from behind the helo at about 400 kts, he dove to 100′ and rolled inverted, flying between the girl friend’s roof and the stationary helo. As he passed the helo, he hit afterburner and rolled upright, climbing vertically. The helo pilots nearly lost control of their machine, and terrified, headed at maximum speed back to North Island. The girlfriend, standing in her front yard, was so impressed that she dumped the helo pilot and reunited with Porky. Love conquers all.