Most memorable were those days on KP at Keesler Air Force Base on Mississippi's hot and steamy Gulf Coast. Quite literally, the central feature of that base, the Air Force's training center for radio, radar and communications specialists, was a long row of mess halls. For several blocks along the main road through the base, lined up in uniform fashion, were old wooden WWII vintage mess hall buildings.

The "around-the-clock" nature of that busy training school meant that mess halls served meals at all hours. Students lives were typically based upon duty shifts. Some attended classes from 0600 to noon, on the so-called A-shift. B-shift folks worked from 1200-1800 , and those on C-shift from 1800 to 2400 hours. A few even had to endure the 'D' or graveyard shift from 0000 to 0600 (midnight to 6:00 A.M.). One could get fed almost any meal at any time of the day or night, depending upon his shift and which mess hall he chose.

My KP assignments at Keesler AFB, as a lowly one-stripe airman fresh out of basic training, took place in the weeks before starting my classes to become an air traffic controller, control tower operator. Each morning at 0400 I was required to report to one of the mess halls, to check in with the Mess Sergeant and be given specific tasks for the day. Most often I was sent to the mess hall supporting A-shift students and that meant breakfasts in the pre-dawn hours, lunch at the conventional noon hour and dinner at 6:00.

"Airman Rowe, reporting for duty," I'd typically declare upon arrival. I'd be one of a dozen or so young enlistees scheduled for KP each day. The Mess Sergeants, typically five or six-stripers with a dozen or more years of service, all seemed to be created out of the same mold. They were rough, tough and brutish fellows who delighted in giving younger troops a hard time. I also recall that they all appeared portly, with lots of belly hanging over their sagging belts.

The Mess Sergeant would gather the still-sleepy-eyed youngsters in the dining area. There he'd look us over and decide who would get what duty assignments for the day. Those of us who had pulled KP duty in the past knew which assignments were good, which were not too bad, and especially which ones to hope we weren't chosen to perform.

"You two, Jones and Garcia," he'd begin. "You're on spud duty. Get back in the kitchen and report to Sergeant Corbin. That meant, not surprisingly, that Jones and Garcia would be peeling lots of potatoes, as well as cooking and preparing them for a variety of recipes.

"Lambert and Brown, you're working the serving line. And you too Gilbert. Get over there with Airman Lewis and help get things set up for the breakfast line."

Once in a while the Mess Sergeant would toy with the anxious young airmen still awaiting their assignments, for it seemed that the remaining jobs had to be worse than those already given out. "Any volunteers for the messiest, lousiest chore?" he'd ask. But even those "green" youngsters had been in the service long enough to know you don't volunteer for anything. Not a hand was raised or word spoken.

"I'll volunteer for pots and pan, Sarge," I'd eventually respond. The others usually looked at me in surprise. They knew full well that pots and pans duty was the dirtiest, messiest and grimiest job available. But I knew that there was a fringe benefit usually attendant to that chore. While most of the KP troops would work from 0400 to after supper, the one or two chosen to do pots and pans duty were typically free after 1400 hours, giving them most of the remaining afternoon off. Some of those with lighter duties initially would often be re-assigned to pots and pans after I left for the day.

Pots and pans duty was not pleasant. You scrubbed, washed and handled the dirtiest and heaviest equipment in the mess hall. Plates, cups and silverware cleanup at least had the semi-automatic "clipper" or car-wash-like machine to do the main work. But pans and very large cooking pots, coated with hardened food, grease and stains were tough to clean, even with the live steam hoses back in the deep sink area. And missing the slightest spot of grease of grime could bring down the wrath of a fussy and demanding Mess Sergeant.

Over the several weeks that I pulled daily KP duty, I got other kitchen tasks too. But for one who's main goal was to make the KP day as short as possible, volunteering for pots and pans seemed worth it. Once our classes began, we were taken off the KP duty roster and expected to apply all of our energies to the training program. The next batch of troops waiting for start of classes became our replacements.