When I said that my Maintenance Test Pilot was standing around in Iraq in a Kevlar, body armor, boots and a neon green thong, I was not kidding. Much like discovering a laser ranger finder designator in a 20’ MILVAN in my motorpool, I cannot make this sh*t up.
We were walking back from the flight line. Dawn was breaking, allowing shimmering morning light to slowly creep across the sh*thole we called FOB MacKenzie. The scents of the burn pit and the blackwater pond behind the oft-broken shower trailer wafted delicately through the air. In the morning haze, our 1SG was arriving in our trusty 5-ton with a homemade breakfast of rubbery powdered eggs, Grade-E meaty sausage patties, instant grits, and a gluey concoction that was either cement aggregate or oatmeal. We were lucky to have such a delicious fare prepared for us by men who’d probably been on patrol a few hours prior in Ad Daluyiah. It was one of those rare mornings when we’d been stuck out in Ba’qubah all night because of a massive fog bank that had rapidly descended upon Diyala before we could make the run for the drier Salah ad Din province area. We were groggy. We were eager for breakfast and bed. We were not expecting to see the maintenance test pilot, taking in the majesty of the rising sun over Iraq, while enjoying a morning smoke and cup of coffee. As the threat of indirect fires was always present, he was appropriately dressed in his Kevlar, body armor, and boots.
And a neon green thong.
Only the thong.
Warrant officers.
*le sigh*
Well, at least he was wearing his Kevlar and body armor.
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