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An Alligator In the House

This Happened a Few Years Back

An Alligator In the House? I believe this happy event was in 1961.  I was at Keesler AFB in Biloxi, Mississippi.

I hate to bore you but you need to know some facts to get the full impact of this story.

The barracks I lived in for a long time, about three of my four years in the USAF, were temporary World War II barracks.  I reckon that “temporary” means different things to different people.

They were open bay barracks and had four rooms.

I lived in the open bay for a few months when I was a student.  A right cozy arrangement.  Twenty double bunks downstairs.  Same upstairs.  Eighty men.  Privacy was not at the fore.

The four rooms were occupied by instructors and student NCOs.  I was an instructor.

My last year in the USAF, I was wearing the coveted three stripes.  I say “coveted” for two reasons.  A lot more loot and I could get into the NCO Club.  Both extremely important to a young man who enjoys bourbon.

The third stripe also gave me a not-so-coveted position.  The first sergeant informed me I was in charge of my barracks.  In case you don’t know, it is not at all wise to argue with first sergeants.

So, there I was.  In charge of a barracks full of recruits.  What fun.

An Alligator in the House by H.D. Ingles

HDI, USAF Autumn 1961

So, Where Do Alligators Come In?

Hold on, I’m getting there.

Well, late one Saturday night.  Okay, okay, early Sunday morning.  Whatever, I returned from having a drink or two.  I walked into the latrine.  I heard a noise coming from the shower.  I looked.

An Alligator In the House by H.D. Ingles

Two seconds later, I woke up the entire nest of innocent, sleeping babies.  In a rather loud voice, I yelled, “Who the *&@* put a *&@* alligator in the *&@* shower.

I finally got a confession from three guys.

Their response, “It’s only a baby.”

My cool and calm response, “A *&@* baby?  The *&@* thing is three *&@* feet long.  Get that *&@* thing the *&@* out of here.  Now!  And I mean *&@* now.  I don’t care where the *&@* you put it.  Just put it the *&@* away from here.  And I mean *&@* far away.”

“But it’s three o’clock in the morning.”

“I don’t give a *&@* what the *&@* time it *&@* is.  Get that *&@* alligator out of this *&@* barracks.”

That was all I needed.  The first sergeant calmly asking me to explain why there was an alligator in the barracks.

The three young men quickly dressed.  I think they sensed that I was a bit upset.

I watched while they carried a three-foot alligator out the back door.

I don’t remember if they had tied a rope around its snout or not.  I didn’t care.

I went to bed.

Later on Sunday Morning

Okay, okay, Sunday afternoon.

I looked up my three young culprits and said, “I’m almost afraid to ask, but where did you put it?”

“In the goldfish pond in front of the Officer’s Club.”


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