Stories of the 68th AREFS
Page 1
As Told By The Guys, Themselves!
A STORY SUBMITTED BY BOB HAMBRICK:
In the mid 50's I was in the Air Force, stationed at Lake Charles, La. There I met a young airman from Memphis, and we immediately struck up a friendship. Myself, coming from a small town in Arkansas, not far from Memphis, we had a lot of things in common. Now one weekend, without a class A pass, we decided to take a trip together to our home towns. I asked my new friend to stop and meet my folks before he continued on to Memphis. My Mom and Dad were just hard working poor folks, but my mom insisted that my friend have supper with us, before going on to see his folks. I knew my mom was trying to make a good impression because she fixed a really good meal. Just as we were about to sit down to eat, low and behold the table collapsed right onto the floor. Mom was horrified with embarrassment. Without hesitation my friend put my mom at ease by saying, "Bob, lets get this table back up, cause I'm hungry."
A STORY SUBMITTED BY ED EPPS:
I came back from Japan, in June of 1956, got stationed at Lake Charles, and went into the 68th ARS. I was assigned to the post flight dock under MSgt Roberts, and that’s where I met all you fellows. I remember how greasy we would get working on them old 4360 engines. We went to Goose Bay Laborador in late October of that year. While we were there the lid blew off of something over in Lebanon, and we were put on alert status. One day all the aircraft flew a misson but one - it crashed on the takeoff roll. When the aircraft came back the Chief of Maintenance ordered all aircraft to have the spark plugs changed, with about eighty planes, four engines each and 56 spark plugs per engine, this was a long hard greasy task with no stopping till it was completed. We worked all night Friday night all day and night Saturday and until noon on Sunday. When we went to chow Sunday at noon the mess Sgt complained about our dirty hands and uniforms, I don’t think I ever seen a mess Sgt come as close to getting a whipping by a little red head from Brinkely, AR and Another fellow from Waycross, Ga. This is one of many memories.
A STORY SUBMITTED BY CARL HARLAND:
We headed to Goose Bay, Labador in January 1958 and we were delayed a few hours for a Blizzard that had hit the area with 102" of snow. While there, we had another 52" of the white powder. I don't think any of us had seen that much snow in a life time. We never got to see the Quansit Hut that we slept in the whole time we were there, when you got into G Area as they called it, the only thing you saw was a smoke stack and a tunnel into a black hole you walked through to get inside the building. You didn't need an ice box cause all you had to do was open the window and clean the snow out and make you the best non electric ice box. They were all open bay's with oil heated stoves to keep you warm. We had to go to the flight line several times to move the aircraft so the snow plows could blow the snow off the flight line. The next morning I was working on one of the KC 97's and had called for a B5 Stand so I could change the bulb in the tail light. Well, time went on no stand so I climed up on the mound of snow that had been blown there by the snow plows, sat down on the snow and with no problem changed the bulb, now that's some deep snow because the tail of the KC 97 was about 30 feet from the ground.
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