Hi I'm Kit, Ask me Anything

Knowing Russia has jamming capabilities, the F-4's weapon and radar systems were designed to circumvent that vulnerability. So one day, my wingman and I were patrolling the Russian boarder keeping an eye on some MiGs. Well, one of the MiGs thought he'd be funny and decided to jam our radar. Our weapon systems immediately locked onto the MiG and armed, just ready for us to hit the button. Tensions were high. We knew that any aggressive action on our part, provoked or not, could lead to another war. But we weren't about to let them shoot us down either.

But in less than a heartbeat, the MiG jerked in reaction to our lock, surly not expecting it after jamming us. The jams stopped, and we shut down the lock. We all went on our merry way.

The second time, we were scrambled to intercept a Russian bomber heading towards the boarder. When we got to it, it was flying parallel to the boarder on their side so we paced it. Suddenly, the gun turret spun and pointed right at us! In reaction, we locked our weapons systems on the aircraft and not half a heartbeat later, the turret jerked upwards. We flew in close enough to see the man in the bubble. He had his hands up, palms out, shoulders scrunched up, and an terrified yet apologetic look on his face. He wiggled his hands as if to say he was sorry. We had to laugh. We felt it was an accident. We released the lock, and kept pace with them until they turned back away from the boarder.

The town is about two hours away from base and is the kind of town that if you blink, you miss it. You can see the one and only gas station from the freeway and it's named "The Fillin' Station".

We take these FM (Farm-to-market) roads about 20 minutes outside of town to the cemetery. It's a small place, nothing special but it's private. Rocky and I had worked together many times so we skipped the usual before-ceremony practice. We saw what use to be an outdoor overhang with an old grand piano under it. So I went over to see if it still played and goofed off on it for a bit. About 15 minutes before we expect the funeral procession, we start getting ready. We don't travel in full ceremonial uniforms to keep them sharp. So we get our uniforms all done up and shiny, then I pick up our bugle. Now, since they don't have the time to actually train us, there's a black speaker loaded with an MP3 inside the bugle that plays Taps for us. All we have to do is push the button and pretend we're playing it. We're supposed to test it before we leave, I even asked if Rocky had tested it. And I test it again before the funeral. I flipped the power switch and hit the button.

No sound.

I look and the power switch is now at the 'off' position. So I turned it on and hit it again. Still no sound.

"Rocky, you said you tested this before we left, right?"

"Yeah."

He had tested it and left it on the whole trip which drained the batteries. Well, that's ok, that's why we keep spare batteries. I grab the two 9 volt batteries from the case, replace the ones in the MP3 player, put it all back together again and press play.....still...no...sound. I slowly looked up, and Rocky was staring at me in horror. Someone before had used the backups without replacing them. We were 20 minutes outside of the nearest store, and expecting the funeral procession at ANY moment.

We leaped into the car, still in full ceremonials and go FLYING down the road! Watching at every turn for the funeral procession and hoping against hope not to see them. I button up my uniform as I bolt into the Fillin' Station and I get out of the car, trying to walk as fast as I could while still looking professional. My normally overly shy self is dead set on asking where the batteries can be found when to my relief they were right at the counter. I dart on over, praying they have two 9v batteries. I panic as my eyes flicker through the racks of batteries, not seeing them. As I open my mouth to ask, my still-searching eyes fall on a pack recessed farther back. It looks to only be one battery. I get closer, just hoping against hope that there's two of them and sure enough, there's only two left. I paid the cashier the $12 for these two things and bolt back out to the car where our prior flight is done in reverse as I wrestle the new batteries in, just hoping they work. Taps has never sounded so sweet.

We fly into the gravel parking area of the cemetery, and get out of the car. As Rocky is getting himself and his uniform situated, I trot over to the location I had picked out to play Taps from to set up the bugle. I get back to him and we both catch our breath just as the funeral procession turns the corner.

We set up for our detail, march in, and stand at with me at the head and Rocky at the foot of the flag-draped casket. Usually I like to ask the funeral director what brand of flag was used. Interestingly, there's no rules or regulations on how the American Flag is made, so some blue fields are larger than others in relation to the stripes. This changes how you want to fold the flag. A perfect flag fold (at the time) is called a "1-3-5". The stars line up, one at the top, three in the next row, and five on the bottom. The five stars represent the five services. At the very least, a flag fold shouldn't "bleed" (show red). But we hadn't had contact with the funeral director that day.

On unspoken command, Rocky and I bend to pick the flag up off the casket. As soon as my gloved-covered hands touch the flag, I know it's one I've never folded before. So I decide to go the safe route and 'cut' the red. On the first fold of the flag, you get to the stripes and if you don't think you're going to have enough to tuck in at the end, you can fold the red stripe in half. This bulks up the folded flag a bit but it's not usually very noticeable. But as I get there, I pause. The flag is a thicker fabric and the fold already feels thick in my hands. I get the feeling that if I cut it, I'm going to end up with a football. So I do the next best thing. I pull the flag as tight as I can while I'm folding it. Nearly pulling Rocky off his feet! I get the flag folded, he tucks in the last bit, takes it from me, checks it over, and as I salute it, I see that it's a beautifully folded, 1-3-5, and as flat as I've ever seen a fold.

I about-face and desperately try to keep a grin of pride and relief off my face while I ceremoniously march to where I'd left the bugle. Here's the test...

I march to the side of the bugle, about face and take one last glance to be sure I wasn't directly facing the family. The MP3 player can be missed as long as it's not pointed directly at them. Content, I slowly reach down to pick it off the ground. With my right hand, I pick it up where I'll be holding it as I 'play', and the left, I slip under the horn to ensure the MP3 player doesn't fall out. I straiten, and find the play button with a finger. Push it, and place the bugle to my lips while I wait for Taps to begin.

My hand trembles slightly as the first mournful note calls out. I nearly sag from relief! Taps plays out, and after the last note fades, I wait just a breath, ceremoniously tuck the bugle in my left hand, and give one final salute. I can't hear Rocky delivering the flag and final speech to the Next of Kin but it runs through my head.

"On behalf of the President of the United States, the Department of the Air Force, and our grateful Nation. We offer this flag to you for the faithful and dedicated service of your loved one."

When he's done, Rocky marches to my side, and on a breathed command, we march together back to the car. I'm bubbling with excitement and relief, but before we can reach the car, I hear running footsteps behind me. Rocky calls a halt at the car, and we break formation. I turn to find a gentleman approaching us and I'm half-dreading what he's going to say.

"Thank you so much!" he says breathlessly. "That was amazing! You guys did a great job!" we smile and thank him but he turns to me, bugle still tucked under my arm, and says "Thank you for playing the bugle live, it means so much more than a recording! How long have you been playing?! It was perfect!"

"For...a little while now." I stutter. I'd been in Honor Guard for eight months by then, so it wasn't EXACTLY a lie but this was the last farewell for his friend or family member, I wasn't about to break the magic for him and ruin the memory by telling him it was a speaker.

"Do you know how I know you actually played?" he asked and I shook my head. "Your hands shook to make the vibrato in the music!"

He smile, turned and left. Rocky and I gave each other knowing looks, got into his car, drove out of the cemetery and busted out laughing.

For a funeral detail where so many things went wrong, I can't remember another that went off so perfectly well.