Macho cringed, and quickly corrected her. “Look, it’s Tiffany—Macho—and cut the ma’am thing. Lieutenants and below are all JOs, all first-name basis. Even the hinge-heads go by call signs, but it’s smart to throw a sir or a ma’am in there once in a while.”
“I’m sorry, please forgive me… and I’m sorry but what is a hinge-head?” Shane asked, looking crushed as if she had blown her only chance for a good first impression.
“Relax, for crying out loud. You’re the Fung, and you have a lot to learn. Six months ago I was the Fung, and someone showed me the ropes. Hinge-heads are the department head lieutenant commanders who nod up and down enthusiastically at anything the CO says.”
“Fung?” Shane asked.
Macho realized this “kid” really was wet behind the ears. However, she looked like an Amazon goddess, and should have exuded confidence, but she was more like little Bambi than Wonder Woman. That’s it, she thought, we have Wonder Woman!
“F-N-G. Frickin’ New Guy. That’s you until we get you a call sign.”
“Oh,” Shane replied uncomfortably, not sure she liked the F in FNG.
They got her luggage off the carousel, and Macho was impressed Shane could lug her sea bag as well as any guy. Hell, she was bigger than her fellow pilot, Ghost. Walking to the car, Macho asked, “Where you from?”
“Pocatello, Idaho. Graduated from the University of Idaho last spring with my commission, and I came here straight from Intel School. I’m really excited to be in a strike squadron!”
“Strike Fighter squadron, dearie.” Does this chick know anything? Macho wondered.
Macho pulled onto the main road while Shane sat in the passenger seat. Fascinated by the flora and fauna of St. Thomas, she commented with excitement about everything she saw. As they climbed the narrow switchback roads above the city, Macho stole glances at her new squadronmate. Shane sat demurely with hands folded on her lap, a faint smile on her lips as she marveled at the sights. The understated makeup on her peaches-and-cream complexion highlighted her deep blue eyes, almost hidden by big glasses. Her brunette hair was professionally pinned in place according to uniform regulation. Shane was a big girl, and she was built. Simply put, the newest addition to VFA-16 was a bombshell, even in her summer white uniform. And Macho didn’t see any rings on her fingers.
Macho did not fear female competition from Shane. After six months in the squadron, Trench and his sidekick, Coach, had established themselves as near mortal enemies, but her fellow nuggets were like kid brothers. None of the junior officers in Carrier Air Wing SIX was of interest to her, but she instinctively knew any attention she had hoped to receive from them would now be superseded by the arrival of Wonder Woman. Then it dawned on her — the squadron thinks Ensign Shane Duncan is a guy, a geeky intel guy they can abuse. Were they ever in for a surprise.
“Look!” Shane exclaimed as they drove along the summit, which offered a magnificent view of the harbor roadstead. “Is that the carrier?”
Macho glanced at the ship and answered her. “Yep. Coral Maru, all 100,000 tons of her. And I think she is the only carrier around here.”
“Goodness! A real carrier! I’ve never seen one except in pictures! Oh, Tiffany, this is so exciting!” Shane was almost beside herself in excitement, sharing this moment with her new-found sister. Macho, giving in to a dark impulse, decided to have some fun at the FNG’s expense.
“Yes! And wait till you meet the guys! You’ll love them! True officers and gentlemen who open doors for us and pull out chairs for us in the wardroom! Our XO is a woman. And one of the hinge-heads, I mean department heads, is a woman, too. She goes by Olive. The guys absolutely adore us, and we have so much fun together! And they are all McDreamy!”
Shane squealed and hunched her shoulders together. “Ohhh, I can’t wait to meet everyone!”
“Yes, and they treat us like the ladies we are. Now, mind you, we are a working squadron. The pilots are going to depend on you to teach us about the enemy order of battle and what the bad guys are up to. The
