The puzzling behavior of our military in the news these days reminded me of my military service in the Air Force. My memories are not what you would imagine. In fact, the things I remember after so many years surprise me too. My commanding officer when I was stationed in the Azores was a golf nut. I loved the guy, best boss I ever had, but he had no mercy on me. When I was on the midnight shift and got finished at 8 am, all I wanted to do was sleep. But no! He was waiting for me. “Hey Wallach, how about coming out to the golf course with me.” Now, you have to imagine that a request like that had more weight than a casual request from a friend. So I never refused and off we went to the golf course. Fortunately, he was happy with playing only 9 holes.
Let me describe what was not an ordinary golf course. First of all, the island of Terceira was blessed with miserable weather except for the two or three summer months. Wind with gusts up to 30 or 40 mph and horizontal rain was typical. Golf nuts don’t care about the weather. I recall vividly one hole which was on top of a steep hill with head winds facing you. Teeing off into the gusty winds was very iffy. If you hit it too high to get to the top of the hill, the wind would blow the ball back and it would occasionally wind up behind you.. If you hit it too low, it would slam into the side of the hill, roll back down a few yards leaving you with an impossible shot to get to the top of the hill.
Another significant feature of this memorable hill was that on the back nine holes, the tee was on top of this hill and faced downward with tail wind gusts and a hole 30 feet lower made for a major overshoot. Or if the wind suddenly died it would leave your ball on side of the hill aimed downward.
One of the unusual features of the course was that there was a brothal between the 8th and 9th holes. Local golfers stayed away because the punishment for picking up any STD was very serious. The base commander was a religious nut. Frequently though, visiting crews passing through, would go out to the golf course with a golf bag containing 2 clubs and at least one bottle of whiskey.
Now, I was a left handed golfer and although I was a reluctant one, I did get some facility and could hold my own on that course. But despite that, I sold my left-handed clubs when I left the island and have never played golf since. I have once or twice gone with friends to a driving range but if I never played golf again I wouldn’t miss it.
Last I talked to my CO was a few years ago. He has since passed on. He told me that he lived next to a golf course but his osteoporosis was so bad, everytime he swung a club, he broke a bone. So he had no choice but to give it up. That course in the Azores was almost as unforgettalbe as the “old man” was.