Air Traffic Control Centre operate 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. That means that some have to work during the wee hours of the morning. Some people do strange things on mid-night shifts - particularly near Christmas. When some people work from twelve at night to eight the next morning, something gets loose in their cranium; and, well, do you remember the comedian who used to use the line "the devil made me do it"? It's something like him! It usually happened around 5 a.m. The following incident happened in the Gander Area Control Centre in the early 1960s when the Centre was located in the present Terminal Building. It was the low point of the night with regard to traffic. Everyone had been "flat out" and by now were getting a chance to get a coffee. The overlapping crew that had been in for the busy period of 8 p.m. until 4 a.m. were gone home. Somebody would tell a story - usually lies. Some other guy would tell about the size of the salmon he almost caught last summer - more lies. Well, we had one controller who liked to put on a bit of a show - especially if we had a new chap join our crew, and more especially if he was a mainlander. As a matter of fact, there may be former crew members who will read this and discover for the first time that this chap wasn't the "real thing." For the sake of this article and to protect his identity, I'll call him "Wilbur." On the particular nights when he would decide to put on a performance, he would wait until he was cleared for a coffee break. He would then get "dressed up." His usual and funniest garb consisted of things that only he could think of. There were purple drapes that surrounded the "black" radar to shade it from the light of other parts of the Operations Room. He'd get a section of this down and wrap it around himself so that it resembled a long flowing robe. Teletype paper came with round tin metal pieces about one inch in diameter that were placed at the end of the spools to keep the paper from being bent under the pressure of other rolls in the case. He'd take two of these and fit them in his eye sockets. There was a small hole in the centre large enough to enable him to see where he was going. He'd then get a piece of teletype paper, fashioned it in a circle, tape it together and place in on his head in the shape of a bishop's mitre. Lastly, he'd take a coat stand, turn it upside down and carry it over his shoulder. The coat stand with its four curved legs was much more impressive upside down than right-side-up. It was getting close to Christmas; we had this brand spanking young trainee from Moncton who had just arrived from the training school. It was just too much for Wilbur - he sprang into action! His preparation, of course, was all done out of sight of the other staff, and he would always wait for an opportune moment to make his grand appearance. Normally he would wait until there was no one on the phones or transmitting to aircraft. The timing of when to come back into the Operations Room was co-ordinated with a cohort who would sneak out in the hall and give him a wave that the timing was right. He'd then proceed through the Operations Room making various crossing signs with his hand and uttering "Latin" phrases. The inevitable happened, of course. Just before his grand appearance, a U.S. Air Force Colonel came in unannounced. He must have brought an aircraft in the day before and decided that he was going to get away at this ungodly hour of the morning. No one knew he was handy to the place until he marched unceremoniously in. Not much security then - not that it would have mattered to this fellow, I suppose, because he seemed pretty important. We always had a few war vets on shift who would eventually put those "important" fellows in their place. The chap who was co-ordinating the appearance of Wilbur made a dash out to give him a "red alert". Wilbur, stationed by the other door in the hall, spotted his buddy coming out of the other door, saw him silently waving, mistook the meaning and marched in the Operations Room. He started his routine, "Dominos Scantify-ess, Lassey puddin' Chrmosos, Diddlewicks ..." - He was half way through the Operations Room - you could say at the point of no return - when he spotted the U.S. Colonel. He was likewise through his usual spiel of Dominos Santifiyess Lassey Puddin, so a panicky "Oh my Blessed Jayus!" was immediately injected into that point of his nonsensical babblings. There was nothing left for him to do but to continue on through the room. He didn't miss a beat! The Colonel had been bent over a desk and going over his Flight Plan with the supervisor when he first heard our friend uttering his spiel. He quickly turned to see what was happening. He spotted what looked something like a Greek Orthodox Archbishop. His jaw dropped, he quickly looked at the supervisor (the supervisor was determined he wasn't going to look at either Wilbur or the Colonel). He then looked back at the "Bishop", dropping his jaw farther. Unable to get the supervisor's eye, he jerked his head around at the other controllers. In every case the controllers were intently studying non-existent aircraft strips or shoving a telephone to their ear making believe they had important calls to make or listen to. All except our mainland friend - who was looking just as perplexed as the Colonel felt! Not a sound was made as Wilbur exited the room from the other end and escaped in the hall where he ran to a nearby closet to get rid of the now embarrassing costume. Our mainland buddy, for whom the show had been planned, probably saved the day. He, of course, was just as amazed as the Colonel and didn't have a clue that this was going to happen. As Wilbur walked out the door, he turned to the supervisor and said, "What the hell was that?" Our supervisor had not gone through six years of war in the RAF for nothing. He looked at the young fellow from Moncton and said, "My son go out and see if that fellow is all right. That's two or three times he's been in here this year. I think he gets lost. Lock the door, too, when you come back, will you. You never know who'll come in here if you don't keep it locked." The young trainee looked at the supervisor, "Er "yes, sir!" The supervisor turned to the Colonel and calmly said, "You were saying something about your flight plan?" The Colonel's jaw dropped back in place and he took another strange look around. He finished his flight plan and walked to the door. He hesitated as if he wanted to ask a question, shook his head, and went on. He's probably still telling the story to unbelieving audiences. I think Wilbur put his "costume" into "cold-storage" after that incident.   Submitted By: NULL