February 20, 1973, Tuesday

The master chief picked up on me where he left off yesterday. One of the other Chiefs told me to not worry about it. He gets this way, he’ll forget about it after a while. And go on to some other poor bastard, he said. I hope so, it’s getting old.

We spent the entire day getting instructed on firefighting methods. The master chief decided that he wasn’t getting any traction from me. I act like he isn’t there. This pissed him off even more. The whole class is watching this battle of the wills. He stood at my side and gave a command directing only me to mask up. “Class, stand down! Licata, mask!” As I was masking at lightning speed. I said to the class, “Goodbye, it was nice knowing you. You’re all dead.” I got a few laughs, that’s all it took. He was storming mad. He couldn’t do anything because I didn’t do anything unlawful. Smart ass remarks can only be punished by a commissioned officer. The master chief stormed away. The other chief said, “That’s one way to get him off your ass. Not a method I would have used.” I like Chief Mann’s humor. Later.