As I said earlier, after a pleasant beginning with Maj. Hensel it was a steady slow slide downhill. It'll take a while for me to work up a full, detailed account of my involvement with that deeply troubled officer and his equally troubled family.
One of the highlights, if it could be called that, concerned the Major getting drunk one night. He went into the Headquarters Squadron orderly room, intending to get something from his office. He was at the time Squadron Commander in addition to being a B-52 crew member as navigator. The CQ—charge of quarters—was an Airman Third, new to the squadron, and he stood up and told the Major, who was in civvies, to stop and provide identification.
Maj. Hensel said he didn't need to provide identification, because he was an officer and should be taken at his word. After some back and forth, during which Maj. Hensel worked himself into a fury, the CQ picked up the phone, intending to call Air Police, but the Major seized the instrument, ripped it out of the wall, and threw it across the room.
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