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As a member of a Virtual Fighter Squadron, each of us needed to provide the group with a 'callsign' to identify each other. I've had a nickname since college that I used, and I was eventually requested to explain it. This is my response.

There's a long story behind my call sign "Ouch," and that makes it a valid call sign.

The first thing you need to remember is that there are three types of call signs:

                 Ones you give yourself  
                 Ones given to you by your friends (hehehe)  
                 Ones that you earn by nigh unto legendary acts.  

The first are the kind that you see in the movies. Maverick, Iceman, etc. Cute, but really only says what the person wishes were true about himself (sounds of flame throwers cranking up in the background.)(duck, dodge, weave)

The second is for just being you. It usually is a play on words dealing with the pilots name or characteristics about him. i.e. "Duke" for someone named Ellington, "Rabbit" for someone who likes carrots or has big ears, "Beans" for someone whom you don't want to sit next to in a movie :-> etc.

The last is the "Best" in the eyes of the fighter pilots I know. It is given for a single spectacular incident.

Case in point: Squadron CO is doing a flyby in his F-14 across the beam of his carrier for the movie people on board. As he starts to pass the ship, he kicks in the burners. Engine explodes and F-14 goes toward the horizon trailing flames and pieces of airframe. After a little swim, the CO learned he had a new Callsign.

Comet.

Mine's not that good, but I like it anyway.

It all starts at Texas A&M University back in the Fall of 84. On campus there was a group of students who formed a student organization to play wargames. It was known by many names, Gamers, GRAMETS, and finally NOVA.

For those of us involved, it was a time we will never forget (though we often wish everyone else would forget parts of it :->

One night I'm gaming, minding my own business, sitting on the back of a chair, when out of nowhere the damn thing decided it didn't like it. Pieces of chair go everywhere and I end up bleeding on the floor. Now you have to understand, I only weighed about 130 lbs. at this point, and there was no real reason for it to go. But no problem, I stayed all night and quietly bled while playing SFB and Squad Leader. Now the only thing of note here is that this was the first meeting that Tim "Chuckie" Gray (Who flew as Noid in ck for a while) ever attended.

The next week, were doing something involving dice again, and someone knocks a handful off on the floor. Several of us get down to collect them and, almost immediately, the table takes a severe dislike to my being under it. Once again the blood starts to flow. Tim was also there. His second meeting.

The next week, (and no, I am not shitting you) Tim shows up and makes some smart comment about whether or not I'm going to bleed. I laugh it off (silly me). We game for a while and all begin to get hungry. Being a poor college student, I had just enough money to pay for the burger and drink from the snack bar downstairs.

I, in a typically witless fashion, begin a headlong rush up the stairs to get back before they change the position of any of my squad. On the final flight of stairs, I, of course, slipped.

Now literally, on the way down to the floor I had time to consider the following facts:

*	No matter what I do, this is going to hurt  
*	I have no money left  
*	I'm still very hungry  
*	I'm also very thirsty and need the caffeine  
*	I'm going to lose either the hamburger or coke if I stop myself from 
	falling  

So, I thought as I went down:

                 Coke or Hamburger 
                 Coke or Hamburger  
                 Coke or Hamburger 
                 FACE (SMACK)  

Needless to say, Chuckie was highly amused when I got back to the room, bleeding again. Still have the scar over my right eye from that one, BUT I saved my DINNER.

I was then awarded the nickname of Ouch, which has unfortunately stuck with me through my entire life.

Now, you also need to understand that this propensity for self injury did not start in college, nor did it end when I left. Next time you see me, you might want to ask about:

                 How I permanently injured my shoulder (tore my rotator 
			cuff) turning off a light switch  
                 How I broke my toe on a blade of grass  
                 How I broke my thumb falling UP a flight of stairs.  

And the list goes on.

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