In this letter to the editor, Dan Slentz responds to Michael Baldauf’s column, “Technobabble Doesn’t Help Your Cause.” Radio World welcomes letters to the editor on this or any story. Email [email protected].
Reflecting on my time in Armed Forces Radio while in the Air Force brings back a great laugh.
I was stationed outside Madrid, Spain, at EBS 100.2 FM radio and TV Channel 5. For the record, EBS stood for European Broadcast Squadron, not the Emergency Broadcast System of the same era.
We had a new general manager at the station who just loved to hang outside of doors and listen in on conversations. The way the military works is that sometimes rank, not experience, allows you to be in charge.
This GM was of a higher enlisted rank but had very little experience in any radio or TV station. I do understand he owned a radio and a TV, so he at least knew where the power switch and tuners were!
Anyhow, I was hanging out in the office of our chief engineer, Dave, just shootin’ the breeze when Dave motioned to the door.
This was the high sign that our GM was hanging out listening to us. I put my finger up in front of my mouth to tell Dave not to question what I was going to say. He understood I was up to no good.
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“Dave, I hear we may go off the air if Germany doesn’t get their ass in gear and get us parts soon,” I said, knowing our headquarters were up at Ramstein.
Dave went along with it. “Yeah, we could be off for a month or longer! I keep telling them we need the parts now!”
I figured I could let the GM off the hook by throwing in a part that he must know wasn’t real. “If they don’t get us the dilithium crystals soon, is there any local place?”
Dave smiled. All techs know of the fictitious dilithium crystals that power the Star Trek Enterprise. He responded that there was no space on shelves anywhere in the area for these crystals and headquarters had to get them down.
At this point, I figured our GM was standing outside the door waiting for us with a smirk. But on sneaking a peek, he was nowhere to be seen. Dave and I laughed it off, figuring the GM probably got pissed and knew we were aware of him.
But just then, Dave’s phone rang. He picked it up with a “no sir, yes sir, no sir” and then started laughing. I could hear laughing on the other end of the phone but couldn’t make out what was said.
Honest to God, that was command tech support at AFRTS (AFN) in Germany on the phone!
Dave said they asked, “What the hell are you guys doing down there? Your GM just called us up demanding we rush dilithium crystals down to Torrejon Air Base on the next C-5 or C-135 coming down there! We asked what the hell he was talking about, and he went on and on about going off the air and needing this part, so we said we’ll take care of it. So what did you guys tell him?”
Dave went on to tell the story about our GM and his listening habits, explaining how Airman Slentz was up to no good. We all had a great laugh.
And no, the dilithium crystals never arrived, but we never went off the air. Dave grabbed a shuttle to mining colony Beta 5 and went down and got some, successfully avoiding the mine tunnel monsters to get it.
And now you know the rest of the story.
It is funny because the movie “Good Morning, Vietnam” could easily have picked up the many events and colorful people that existed within AFN and AFRTS.
I have a few other stories, including some far less family-friendly tales about my fellow brass button broadcasters.
Radio World welcomes letters to the editor on this or any story. Email [email protected].
