This is the second part of a three-part series.
The following events occurred in the early 80s to early to mid-90s, just before the "Don't ask, don't tell" policy was implemented in the military. Even with the implementation of that policy, being an active lesbian risked your career, especially for an officer.
This story begins immediately after "
Throwin' Pennies in the Bay
" ends.
© 2020 Candy_Kane54
***
August 1981
As I pulled up to the main gate at Robins AFB in my 1978 Datsun 280ZX, I wondered if I'd ever get over Virginia. Here I was, starting my new assignment and meeting my new commander today. I reflected on the past week as I waited my turn to be admitted to the base.
My mind went back to that night when Virginia walked out of my life. She was being investigated to get her Top Secret Special Compartmental Access (SCA) clearance for her new assignment at FTD. Virginia had been visited by an Office of Special Investigations (OSI) agent who had been suspicious of our relationship. I replayed the memory of her walking away and never looking back over and over in my mind. I had gone home and cried myself to sleep.
The next day, I dragged myself into work, glad I was leaving Friday. As I was wrapping up my last day at my old assignment, I got a visit from an OSI agent. He spent an hour asking me about Virginia, and I told him the truth. Nothing was going on between us. We were friends, and I had helped her move to Wright Patterson AFB. Yes, we had shared a room at the hotel in Hancock, MI, but we had done it to save money since the per diem was so low there. I was moving on to my next assignment at Robins AFB Friday. He thanked me for my time and left. He said nothing about keeping an eye on me, so I was glad that was over.
The movers arrived early on Friday, and all my belongings were loaded by noon. I gave them the address of the apartment where I would live at Northcrest Apartments and said I'd meet them there. They had a couple of other pickups and deliveries to attend to, so they wouldn't be at my new place until tomorrow. I drove to Robins AFB, a usually beautiful drive down I-75 through Kentucky, Tennessee, and halfway through Georgia. As I traveled, I thought about how my relationship with Virginia had come to a screeching halt. It was nearly midnight when I got to Robins AFB, and I spent that night in the VOQ on base. The movers showed up the next day, and I spent that Saturday unpacking and settling into my apartment.
I was shaken from my reverie by the car in front of me being waved through the gate. I displayed my military ID to the airman as I approached the barrier. He looked over my vehicle and whistled in appreciation, saying, "Nice ride!" before saluting and raising the gate. I returned his salute, flashed him a smile, and said, "Yes, it is, Airman," as I drove into the base and over to the building where I would be working. It was a hanger that had been converted from its original use. There was a section on the second story for offices. The main floor was set up like a manufacturing line since they supported avionics components deployed on F-15s and F-16s.
I was looking forward to this assignment to the 402 SMXG - Software Maintenance Group. I'd get a chance to get my hands figuratively dirty. I'd be getting hands-on experience with the avionics systems hardware and, at the same time, how the firmware and software were supported. I would also be overseeing the airmen who were responsible for the support.
Our group would also work closely with the 402 EMXG - Electronics Maintenance Group. They were responsible for refurbishing and calibrating the units when their rack time had expired. Additionally, units pulled by the techs maintaining the aircraft because they weren't in spec or had glitched would also be re-calibrated there. Any of the test or calibration equipment used had to be calibrated. So they had to be periodically rotated out and sent to the Precision Measurement Equipment Laboratory (PMEL) to make sure they were still in spec.
A lot of documentation was needed for this organization to work effectively. Checking and rechecking the paperwork generated was a lot of meticulous work because there were so many chances to make a mistake. One thing I wanted to do during my assignment here was to computerize all the paperwork. That would make the documentation simpler and more accessible to the techs on the flight line who were maintaining the aircraft.
Whenever the software/firmware was updated in any avionics units supported here, they'd have to rotate the boxes out of the aircraft to be updated. So it was important that each unit's location is tracked and what versions of software/firmware they have installed in them. Also, I'd evaluate the performance, suggest changes, and do Quality Assurance (QA) on the software/firmware if requested. The airmen supporting the software/firmware had their desks up on the second floor with me. It would keep me busy and out of my head so I could forget about Virginia.
My first meeting with my commander, Colonel Steve Oldiges, went great. He welcomed me aboard and said he had heard good things about me and was looking forward to my contributions to the program. Col. Oldiges took the time to show me around the facilities, explaining why the floor was laid out the way it was, and introduced me to the airmen working on the hardware. I was impressed that he knew everybody by name and was willing to dive in and get hands-on with the equipment. His enthusiasm buoyed me up, and I knew I would enjoy this assignment.
I pinned on Captain the third week I was there. It wasn't much of a ceremony since hardly anybody outside my group knew me and vice versa. It would have been so lovely if Virginia could have been there. As it was, I ended up having Col. Oldiges pin me on at the end of the staff meeting in an abridged ceremony. It was not exactly how I had pictured my first real promotion ceremony. At least I was a real officer now, as I was now an officer in the Regular Air Force instead of in the Reserve Air Force. As a bonus, I outranked the other two lieutenants in the organization. They were academy grads (ring knockers) and were already Regular Air Force. Because I went through OTS, I was commissioned in the Reserve Air Force. For ring knockers, the two lieutenants weren't jerks like a lot of the older ones were since women were now going through the academy, so they didn't look down on women officers.
I immersed myself in my assignment, keeping busy and avoiding socializing outside of work. I got to know all of the enlisted airmen who were working on the floor. We got along fabulously. I had to admit that a couple of female airmen could have tempted me, except that they were enlisted and straight, two lines that were never crossed except with great peril. Fraternization between enlisted and officers was probably the worst offense you could commit, other than treason or being homosexual. We were able to work with each other and had a great time doing it.
Despite the prohibition on fraternization between officers and enlisted, our group always got together at Martin's BBQ shack, just outside the main gate, every Friday after work. No one would be in uniform, so no one outside our group could complain. We did chaperone each other, making sure no lines were crossed. If at least two officers couldn't make it, we'd let the enlisted hang out alone. It was a great way to informally work out any grievances the enlisted would have with the officers and vice versa. Because of that bonding, our group worked great together and got our unit an Air Force Organizational Excellence Award in 1982.
I found out that Georgia State had an extension program on base. I looked at it and decided to work on my Master's degree in computer science. I signed up for the program, despite it being State, a long-time rival of Tech. I would be going part-time to work on my degree, having been able to test out of twelve credits due to my work experience. I should be done with the program before I have to work on my next assignment.
September 1982
The first year of my assignment quickly passed as I immersed myself in my job. My effort to computerize the documentation was coming along quite well. I had written up my plan and presented it to Col. Oldiges, extolling the advantages of having that information available to everyone on the flight line and in the shop. He enthusiastically endorsed the plan and asked me to organize the resources and get started on it as soon as possible.
Warner Robins wasn't the biggest town, and since I was only 100 miles from Tech, I decided to visit my alma mater in Atlanta. The 1982 volleyball season had started. I even attended some home volleyball matches, work permitting, to root for my Yellow Jackets. At one such Friday night match against the Tar Heels, I noticed one of the spectators kept looking over at me with a puzzled look on her face. She was about my height, with straight sandy blonde hair down to the middle of her back and blue eyes. She was easy to look at, so I kept an eye on her as the set progressed. After a while, I saw a look of recognition on her face, and she got up and approached me.
