Stories of the 31st - Deuce is Wild

by Scobe

Stories of the 31st FG
Deuce is Wild - by Scooby
05/19/07

The sun was peaking over the hills of beautiful Italia casting shadows down its war torn valleys. Walking along the flight line at this time of day was Colonel Daddy's way of being at peace. There was much going on now, much work had to be done but with a short calm many of his “kids” were becoming restless. There weren't any fights…this group he commanded weren't like that. Instead there was a wave of practical jokes flowing around. No one knew who the culprit or culprits were, but they were wrecking havoc.
As he walked steadily along Daddy snickered at the latest victim. Poor Soul was usually the one who tried to keep him from blowing his top, but yesterday afternoon it was the other way around when someone had snuck into his office and drawn a mustache on his face when he was sleeping at his desk. The time before that Goebel got locked in the latrine during a very hot, humid day and it so happened that the vents were covered. Daddy shook his head. This had to stop… HQ couldn't be targeted like this. Discipline would break down and…
The airbase scramble alarm rang out at that moment. Daddy stopped all his thinking and rushed to his P-51 down the row of fighters. Everyone was scrambling to their fighters as if they were back in Britain rushing for their Spitfires. As Daddy got to his plane the crew chief had just arrived. He helped Daddy on with his parachute and then rushed to remove the chalks. Daddy didn't notice the fact that his canopy had already been opened and did his usual, fancy “hop” into the cockpit not bothering to look inside. His butt was rudely welcomed not by a seat but a cold hard armor plate. “WHERE THE F&%* IS MY SEAT!?”
A green flare fired from the tower as Mustangs started to roll down their runway. Daddy watched, he felt his blood pressure rise and he pounded his fist against the side of his pony. Someone is going to pay dearly for this… Daddy thought to himself. As he climbed out of the cockpit he saw a note where his seat used to be. In type it said, “gotcha.”

The fighter scramble had been a drill sent down from the wing commanders. Their reasoning, “to keep the moss from forming.” The 31st Fighter Group command staff wasn't impressed. They sat around the briefing room just chatting idly with each other bouncing ideas about who was targeting HQ staff with these practical jokes. Many names came up but Soul was more than insistent on his thoughts. “I swear it has to be Scooby.”
Colombo shook his head. “No way…it's not Scooby!”
“I flew with Scoob when I was with the 4th… he was well known for his antics.” Soul gave Colombo a sheet of paper. “Check this out. It's from the 4th FG's old commanding officer.”
Colombo read the paper. It expressed details about several 4th FG Spitfires having landing gear problems and parts going missing and found in packages addressed from a 2nd LT. Scooby with the 335th FS. “Anyone could put anybody's name on a box.” Colombo finally said.
Daddy cleared his throat. “Gents let us get back on topic. Replacements. Split?”
The executive officer nodded. “Okay, a 2nd Lieutenant Madoos has arrived yesterday just after the scramble drill came in.”
Tahoe spoke next. “Hell of a way to welcome a new pilot. He tried to steal Thunder's P-51 because he wanted to fight.”
Daddy just grinned. “He's keen. Good. Slap, I'll place Madoos under your care.”
“Rog.” The commander of the 309th replied.
“Alright guys. Meeting is adjourn. Soul will continue to investigate the practical jokes and missing pieces.” The command staff stood and left the briefing room. There was a crack in the air followed by a loud rumble. The calm had been replaced by an intense thunderstorm.

The rain poured steadily throughout most of the day and the evening as many of the pilots of the 31st gathered in the Hammer and Sickle. There were a few nurses there tonight everyone was mixing and mingling as drinks were passed all around. Madoos met many of the 31st and was sitting at the bar when a pilot came up to him wearing captain's railroad tracks on his collar.
“Hey you must be the new guy. I'm Scooby.”
“Hi Scoob. I'm Madoos.”
“Please to meet ya Deuce.” They shook hands and began to talk.
Soon Madoos, Scooby, Asmech, Smiley, and Brushman were all gathered around a table playing poker. Asmech won the first deal and started to pass out the cards. “In honor of our newest member, we will start with 5 card draw with deuces' wild.” With chips flying in and cards being passed around Madoos ended winning most of the games and thus won the honor of spending the money he won for all the drinks. By midnight the rain had continued to pound the airfield turning its dirt to mud. The thunder and lightning began to pick up.
“Shessh, I ha...ha... hope Natasha is doing well.” Smiley said.
Asmech gave Smiley to very long nods which he almost tipped over from the bar.
“Who is Na...?Natty?” Madoos asked curiously.
Brushman just hiccupped as Scooby explained to Madoos. “Nat... hic... Natty is a…uhh...”
“NURSE!” Asmech announced and tore off toward the door chasing a blond.
Scooby grinned. “Yeah…nurse.” Scooby took another sip of his rum. “You see… Natty is far from … hic… home. And she doesn't like thunderstorms.”
Madoos smiled. “I'll be glad to snuggle and keep this purr…day nurse company.”
Brushman started to speak, “Oh she…” and then felt a jab at his side from Scooby. “She's a great per……person. Hic.”
“Where can I find Natasha?” Madoos grinned as he tried to fix his tie. Scooby gave him directions to a special hut where the guys would have rendezvoused with the nurses or other types of transactions they didn't want HQ to find out about. Madoos stood from his bar seat and stumbled a couple of steps. He patted Smiley on the head that was passed out on the bar. “See ya boys…I got a nurse to ent…hic…entertain.”
Brushman and Scooby watched Madoos stumble his way out of the shack and into the cold, hard, rain. Scoob looked over at Brushman. “That was too…hic…too…hic…too…forget it.”

The sun broke through next the fog that settled in the morning as HQ flight gathered for another briefing. Daddy seemed steamed more than usual from what the squadron commanders noticed. Soul kept a low profile and Split made sure he was well out of Daddy's reach.
“Okay… I've had enough.” Daddy started. “We have been sitting idle to long! This crap has got to STOP!”
The squadron CO's looked at each other and back at Daddy who motioned to Soul. Soul started to announce what has been going on. “Okay… first, as expected, Madoos fell victim to Natasha. Though we are all shocked about how soon it happened. The MPs found him tied to a fence spread-eagle this morning. Uh… he's going to be out for a few months; apparently he has the outline of the fence all over him. His both of his wrist and his ankles have been broken, probably due to the pressure applied. He is required to wear a diaper for a few months to make sure they catch the, entire well the docs are sure its saliva, drip coming from his…uhh…behind.” Soul coughed. “And the doc's are not sure if there is any physiological damage since he's still out cold. And speaking of cold…the doc is sure he probably has phenomena due to being exposed to the cold rain naked for such a long time. Of course there are also the usual black eyes, burses and a broken pelvis.”
“Tell them all Soul….” Daddy said under his voice.
“And…” Soul cleared his throat. “We are unsure about his motor skills. It seems as if Madoos might have been struck by lighting, though not directly but probably due to the metal fence.” Everyone gasped except Daddy. “Like I said…we're not sure if the electric shock he suffered did any damage since he's out cold.”
“Next.” Daddy commanded.
Soul hung his head low. “As you know the HQ building has been comprised and new locks installed. Well, this morning we found the locks gone.” There was some muttering. “Along with the entire supply of scotch.” The squadron commanders started to mutter uncontrollably. “The thieves then replaced the picture of Daddy's family with a picture of…” Soul tried to keep the bile from coming out. “A picture of Natasha…naked…with pink bunny slippers in her mouth….”
Daddy sat there, a dead calm over him as he spun his .45 caliber on his trigger finger. “Gentlemen…someone is going to die.”