【翻译/屎尿屁预警】我的海军呼号，是在F/A-18里拉了两泡得来的

原标题：How I Got My Navy Callsign By Shitting Myself In An F/A-18 Fighter Jet. Twice.

原文出自Autopian.com

原作者简介：

Bobby Mackay is a Naval Aviator who has completed two operational deployments aboard an aircraft carrier flying the F/A-18F Super Hornet. He is now an instructor pilot.

Bobby Mackay，海军飞行员，曾两次作为F/A-18F超级大黄蜂飞行员随航母完成行动部署。他目前是一位飞行员教练。

So there I was…smack in the middle of the Arabian Gulf at the helm of an F/A-18 fighter jet thirty thousand feet overhead one of the most powerful warships in the world… and I had to shit. Bad.

那一天的我…在阿拉伯湾上空驾驶着着F/A-18战机，三千英尺下就是现今世界上最强大的战舰…但是我想拉屎。完球。

The day started just like any other onboard the aircraft carrier. I woke up at around 10, just in time for lunch – or, as many on the boat call it, “aviator breakfast.” We typically flew from about noon to just after midnight, causing the air wing (the combination of fighter, helicopter and early warning squadrons) to be on a slightly skewed daily schedule compared to most others onboard. 

那天与以往每个在航母上的日子一样。我10点前后起床，正好赶上午饭——或者被船上其他舰艇成员称作的，“飞行员早餐”。我们通常从中午飞到午夜前后，让其他航空队（由战斗机，直升机及预警中队组成）可以比起其他舰员更紧凑地完成每日日程。

I rendezvoused with my squadron mates in the wardroom and chowed down on some catfish and rice pilaf. I had a night flight later that day, so I had the whole afternoon and evening to get my work done prior to briefing the flight. The rowing machine in the seaside gym provided a good distraction from being on a boat for the past five months. Working on the computers in the ready room, studying tactics, and talking to loved ones back home shaved off a few hours of the day. Maybe I even played a game of spades with some pals before heading to dinner. It seemed like a very benign, standard day — certainly not one that would result in me earning a callsign that my friends and coworkers still call me to this day.

我和其他小队成员在公共活动室碰头，吃了些鲢鱼和抓饭。那天晚上我的飞行时间排在晚上，所以整个下午和傍晚我都可以先办些更重要的工作再去作飞行简报。濒海体育馆的划船机可以让人从过去五个月的随船生活中分分心。在准备室里用一用电脑，学习一下战术，再和远在家乡的挚爱聊聊天可以消磨掉这一天的几个小时。那天晚饭前我可能还和几个哥们打了会牌。那天是那么平常而惬意——一点也不像是会让我获得一个呼号并被朋友和同事一直使用到今天的一天。

I Was Proud To Have Avoided A Callsign So Long

我曾一直都为避免获得呼号而骄傲

Callsigns are necessary in naval aviation. Over time I’ve developed a great appreciation for them. Even though they’re wacky most of the time, it’s almost more professional to call someone by some abstract nickname than their first name, or even “Ms. So-and-so.” While one may simply be a play on someone’s name, i.e. “Jonesy” Jones, or an indicator of personality, i.e. “Party Steve,” most are results of shenanigans perpetrated on or around the members of the squadron. 

呼号对于海航很必要。一直以来我都对这事有很大的感触。虽说大多数时候呼号的来源都很滑稽，但是用一个抽象的昵称称呼他人总比直呼其名或是“某某女士”听起来更加专业。虽说有时呼号可能只是某人名称的谐音，比如“琼西”琼斯，或是对其性格的概括，比如“派对史蒂夫”，但大多数呼号都是中队成员犯下的某种屁事而来的。

I had only been in the squadron for about six months up to this point and, pridefully, had not earned myself a callsign just yet. There was conjecture about naming me after my head, which is apparently reminiscent of a dinosaur’s head. There was talk of naming me after my quiet disposition, which would later turn out to be a complete misread. But up to this point, the list of suggestions on the board were scarce. And I was mighty proud of that. 

那会我才刚到中队六个月，但庆幸的是，我还没有为自己“赢得”一个呼号。那会大伙都寻思着用我头的形状来给我起名，他们都觉得我的头非常像恐龙头。他们也讨论过以我安静的性格来命名，但是随后大伙都发现知人知面不知心。但直到那会，一大堆的建议却都不是很合适，而我也为此觉得很骄傲。

Flying Jets Is Never “Routine”

战机飞行从没有“常规”一说

The strike group had been operating in the Arabian Gulf for about 2 months at this point. Operations were going smoothly, but “routine” isn’t a word that exists in the vocabulary of most sailors and aviators. We were operating very close to borders and coastlines of countries that didn’t want us there. Every day we were reminded of that through radio calls and intelligence briefings. Every flight was new. 

海航中队已经在阿拉伯湾部署两个月了。行动很顺利，但是“常规”一次对于大多数水手与飞行员来说并不常规。我们行动的位置距离那些不欢迎美国的国家的边境与海岸线非常近。每天我们都会被无线电通讯与情报简报不断提醒。每次的飞行都是全新的。

Wars don’t begin predictably, and chaos can happen at any time, even while exercising the utmost diligence. Also, anything can happen to your jet at any time. Jets flying off of carriers take a beating. Steam powered catapults sling 60,000 pound hunks of metal to 150 mph in less than three seconds, and the jets do that three times a day. At the end of an hour and a half flight, we controllably crash the jet into one of four arresting cables strewn across a solid steel flight deck at a descent rate of 800 feet per minute. Precision and accuracy are the names of the game in naval aviation, and when you’re off your game, there’s no telling how that will affect the flight.

战争的爆发并非可预测的，任何混乱随时都可能爆发，即使尽全力都无法阻止。同样地，你的战机也可能随时发生任何事情。从航母上起飞的战机需要推力。蒸汽弹射器会在3秒内将六万磅的大铁块弹射到150mph，每架战机每天都要被弹射三次。在每次一个半小时的飞行结束时，我们都会控制飞机以约每分钟800英尺的合适速度努力摔向四根散落在全钢飞行甲板上的阻拦索的其中一根。精度与准头对于海航至关重要，缺了任何一个都会对飞行造成无法预测的影响。

Surf-N-Turf And Coffee

海陆大餐与咖啡

I had been flying night flights every night for the past few weeks up to this point, and it was taking its toll on me. Landing a jet on a carrier at night is truly terrifying. Everything is controlled with your fingertips; the glideslope, the lineup control, and the angle of attack of the aircraft. My legs were shaking after every “trap,” or landing, so I needed my body to be in tip-top shape. That’s why, on this particular night, I was happy to see that it was surf-n-turf night in the wardroom. Steak and lobster usually signifies that bad news is coming, but I was fat, dumb and happy, and ready to eat some good shellfish. 

那段时间，我已经每晚连续不断地飞了几周的夜航，后果也开始浮现出来。夜间在航母上进行降落属实令人恐惧。一切控制都悬在指尖：不论是着舰速率，航向修正，还是机身角度。每次的阻拦索捕捉，或是着陆，都令我的双腿颤抖不已，这就是为什么我需要让我的身体保持顶尖状态。这也是为什么，在那个难忘的晚上，公共活动室正在供应海陆全餐。牛排与龙虾意味着坏消息将至，但是我作为一个快乐的胖憨憨，正准备埋大快朵颐那些甲壳类海鲜。

I scarfed down a tail and a steak, and when I got up to the ready room to brief, I figured: “It’s a late flight, I’ll have myself a cuppa coffee.” The brief was short and sweet. My WSO (Weapons and System Officer) and I were going to practice employing High Speed Anti-Radiation Missile (HARM) with no weapons onboard the jet so we could be ready if we did have to employ it at some point. We would simply load a training code on the jet and practice pushing buttons to our hearts content. When we were finished briefing, I began to realize that I had what I lovingly refer to as the “bubble-guts.” I went to the bathroom and got the demons out of me before walking on the jet.  But when I entered the aircraft, the coffee kicked in.

我大口吞下了一块牛排和一个龙虾尾，当我起身前往准备室作简报时，我寻思着：“既然是夜航，我得整杯咖啡。”简报简单明了。我的WSO（武器系统官）和我准备去练习使用HARM（高速反辐射导弹）以应对未来的使用。此时机上没有挂载任何武器，只需要向机内输入练习代码，就可以一直按按钮练习到满意为止。简报结束时，我开始感觉到我的肚子里开始“翻泡泡”。我冲进厕所，在登机前把体内的野兽完全释放了出来。但当我登机之后，咖啡的劲上来了。

I’ve always had a complex relationship with coffee. I am addicted to the taste. I love it black, or with cream and sugar — whatever. But sometimes it takes its revenge, and tonight was one of those nights. As soon as I sat in the seat I had to pee. Doing this in the jet is fairly easy. Simply pull out an “AIRCREW RELIEF BAG” or “piddle pack” as we call it, do your business into it, roll it up, put it in your bag and go. It has little gel beads that absorb moisture and turn it into a margarita of sorts, and there’s no mess. We lined up for the catapult shot, did our checks, held on tight, and the shot hit hard. As soon as we started accelerating at about three times the force of gravity, I felt something move in me. When I took the controls I immediately had the thought that this might be a long hour and a half.

我对咖啡的感情一直纠缠不清。我喜欢它的口感。我喜欢纯咖啡，或是加入糖奶，哪种都行。但有时它又会向我倾泻怒火，就像今晚一样。坐到椅子上的那一刻我就开始想撒尿。其实在机内撒尿还算容易。只需要掏出一个“机组释放袋”，这玩意我们叫做“嘘嘘袋”，把你的那活放进去解决内急，把袋子卷起来，放进包里就完事了。袋子里面放着很多凝胶小颗粒，它们可以吸收液体并变成一袋玛格丽特一样的玩意，一点都不会洒出来弄脏舱内。我们正排队等待弹射起飞，进行临飞检查，系好安全带，然后被狠狠弹出去。正当我们开始以重力三倍的加速度加速时，我感觉体内有什么东西正在涌动。控制权转交的那一刻我意识到，这一个半小时将会有多漫长。

“This is The Pilot in Aircraft 202. I Shit my Pants. I Need a Cleanup Crew.”

“这里是202号机飞行员。我拉裤子了。需要清理小组。”

I leveled off at 30,000 ft and set autopilot so that the two of us could practice button-pushing while being “heads-down” in the cockpit. As soon as I set the autopilot I had to pee again. Boom, done. Move on. Ten minutes later – pee. At this point my guts started bubbling again. I stopped looking at the displays, put my sweaty hands on the handles on the canopy rail, and tried to sit as still as I could. This was only about half an hour into the flight. I didn’t tell my WSO anything. I pulled out another piddle pack to do my business again, but this time there was another force at play. Just to the south of where I was aiming, a monster was trying to get out. I couldn’t isolate the valves; nothing came out of either. My stomach roiled while I was trying to contract one side and relax the other. Finally I said over the internal communications: “Dude, I think this might be the night. I have the bubble guts and I need you to put your mask on.” A firm “Okay bud do what you need to do” gave me confidence that, while it certainly felt like the end of the world, we were in this together. 

在爬升到30000尺的高度后，我们设置了自动飞行，这样座舱里的两人就可以埋头专心练习按按钮了。刚设置好自动飞行，我又需要撒尿了。开袋收袋，完事，继续练习。十分钟之后——憋尿。此时我的胃里又开始翻泡泡了。我从抬显上移开视线，用渗出汗的双手抓住了舱盖把手，尽力地保持着稳定。此时距离起飞刚过半小时。我没和我的武器系统官说一句话。我又扯出一个嘘嘘袋想要解决生理问题，但是另一股力量却已迫在眉睫。在我尝试瞄准的位置以南，一匹野兽即将脱缰而出。我没法分别控制用力，两头都出不来。我的肠胃在我尝试收紧一边放松一边时不断翻滚。最后，我对着内部通讯说到：“兄弟，时候到了。我的胃里翻江倒海，我建议你把面罩带上。”一句确认的“好了兄弟，做你该做的事吧”给了我自信，让我感到虽然我的末日已经到来，但是至少我们在共同经历着。

There is no stronger bond between two people than the one they build while sharing  a cockpit that smells like nuclear waste.

没有什么比两人共处于一个闻起来像核废料的驾驶舱内更能建立强而有力的感情了。

I made the decision that it had to be done. I had to let loose to relieve the pressure on both fronts. I’d heard stories of legendary pilots completely disrobing (save their helmet), using their flight bag as a makeshift lavatory (one might call it a “shiddle pack”), and then carrying on. So I safed up my ejection seat, released the straps and unzipped. Quickly realizing this was more of an endeavor than I was equipped for, I strapped back in and armed my seat. Claustrophobia is an understatement at this point. I had 8 inches of open space to either side, seat behind me, displays in front of me, and directly outside all of that was air with no oxygen that was -15 degrees Fahrenheit. Plus I was flirting with some very narrow airspace boundaries with huge consequences if violated. I decided at that moment that my bowels were not my highest priority. I simply relaxed, and let the warmth spread across my seat. It was so hot, it felt like a hot tub. It bubbled and oozed and was revolting but strangely comforting. At this very moment my WSO said “woah, I didn’t know HARM had a targeting option, 

that’s cool.” 

我作出了一个必须做出的决定。我只能脱出来才能让两头共同释放。我曾听说过有传奇飞行员曾直接脱光（除了头盔），用飞行随身包作为临时马桶（估计会被叫做“噗噗袋”），并放下了这段过去。于是我插上了弹射座椅的安全销，解开安全带脱下裤子。但是当我迅速意识到我正努力所做的事并非合理，我重新系上了安全带并拔下了弹射座椅的安全销。此时幽闭恐惧症都显得微不足道。我的左右只有8英寸的移动空间，后面是座椅，前面是抬显，在这外面就只剩下了没有氧气含量的低达零下十五华氏度的外界。再者，我们正在极窄的空域边界不断擦边，一旦过界将会导致无比严重的后果。我判断此时我的大号问题并非最高优先级。我只是开始放松，让暖流在我的座椅上流淌。那暖流是那样的温暖，仿佛在泡热水澡。那不断翻滚溢出的感觉令人恶心但又有一种奇妙的舒适感。此时我的WSO来了一句“哇哦，我都不知道HARM还有目标选择功能，酷诶。”

I responded loudly: “I don’t give a fuck.”

我大声回复道：“我™根本不在乎。”

Being ornery wasn’t the answer, but I was in my own personal hell. That being said, I could finally pee again, so that was nice. I told him what I did, and he said that we should probably communicate this back to the ship somehow. I said I’d take the comms; I was the one who had soiled his seat, after all. 

暴躁并非一个好回应，但我正身处于自己的地狱中。说完这话，我终于可以尿出来了，所以还算有点好事。我告诉了WSO我做了什么，他说我们应该和舰船联系通报情况，至少得说点什么。我说我可以接下通讯；毕竟我是那个玷污了他的座位的人。

Up to this point, there were a few people I knew who had done this, and there was a particular incident from which  I’d learned a lot of lessons. A pilot had called back to our ship and told the team that he’d had a “physiological episode,” which led the ship to believe he was in a jet that may have been starving him of oxygen. We spooled up the flight doc and told the Landing Signals Officers (LSOs) that the pilot may be hypoxic. By using euphemisms like physiological episode, it led the ship down a path that spiraled out of control. The pilot clarified the situation upon querying, but I remember our Commanding Officer telling us to be very clear on the radios if anything happened. So, when it was my turn to make the embarrassing call, I simply said: “This is the pilot in aircraft 202. I shit my pants. I need a cleanup crew.” After 10 seconds or so, he responded with his callsign and was obviously stifling a laugh so hard I could see his face in my head.

事已至此，至少我认识的人中有几个干过这事，之前有一次具体的事故让我学到了不少。一次一个飞行员向舰方通话并告知小队他发生了一些“生理反应发作”，这使得舰方认定他的座机可能供氧不足。我们赶紧找来飞行员医疗并通知降落信号官（LSOs）飞行员可能遭遇缺氧状况。使用委婉的表达如生理反应发作，会导致舰组成员逐渐陷入失控状态。飞行员及时澄清了现场的误解，但我记得我们的指挥官曾好如果我们如果发生任何事，需要在通讯中明确表达。所以，这次轮到我来进行这次尴尬的通讯了，我只是简单地说：“这里是202号机飞行员。我拉裤子了。我需要清洁小组。”大约10秒左右，对方用自己的呼号回应，我能听出对面已经笑到窒息，我甚至能想象出他那张因大笑而扭曲的脸。

The Bolter

脱钩

Word of what had happened got passed to the Landing Signals Officers on the flight deck. They were the guys standing on the ship, grading every landing, and standing in to help in case of unusual situations (Sometimes a pilot gets low and needs a “power” call from the LSO to keep him or her on optimum glideslope, for example). 

天上发生的事件很快就传到了飞行甲板上降落信号官的耳朵里。就是那群站在甲板上的家伙们，给每次降落评分，并在特殊事件发生时给予帮助（比如有时候飞行员姿态过低并需要LSO们提供“动力”指挥以保证他/她的着舰速率达到要求）。

When I checked in with the ship, the bubbles came back, and I just let loose again, feeling the warmth spread even further throughout my pants. I couldn’t imagine the horror, and I didn’t even look down. The approach was uneventful until I had to fly “the ball.” I scanned for lineup, and maintained glideslope until I was almost to the point of touchdown. I added just a hair too much power and sailed over the wires on the flight deck. I didn’t stop; I had to pull back up. That’s called a “bolter.”

当我向舰艇汇报时，那些翻腾的泡泡又回来了，我再次脱出，感受着暖流进一步深入着我的裤子。我无法想象那份恐怖的景象，我也没有低头查看。抵近一直都很顺利，直到我需要开始“呼球”（译注：Call the ball是飞行员在着舰时使用光学着陆系统OLS时的俚语）。我扫视着航向，保持着速率准备着舰。我只多加了一丁点的力，还是从甲板上的阻拦索上飞过。我没有停下；我需要再次拉起。这种情况被叫做“脱钩”。

I had leaned forward in my seat expecting the wires to stop me, but when they didn’t, my butt hydroplaned backward in my seat like a Zamboni cleaning up a wet ice rink. I was flying again, and had to sit in my own shit for 10 more minutes. Flying around the pattern for another landing was embarrassing, but it couldn’t get much worse at this point. I was already thinking about laughing about this later. 

我俯身向前倾，期待着阻拦索能拉住我，但是当我没有勾住阻拦索时，我的屁股在座椅上向后一滑，就像磨冰车在清理融化的溜冰场一样。我再次起飞，无奈地再在自己的屎里坐了十多分钟。飞在重新降落的航线上本身就很丢人了，但是这会已经没法再糟了。我已经在考虑时候要如何一笑而过了。

The next approach was uneventful, an OK 3-wire (the pass we aim for). But the damage was done. I knew that everyone in the air wing already knew. I had the long taxi up the bow of the ship to the darkest part of the flight deck. As soon as I got there I saw my roommate standing there with a towel and an extra flight suit, and I already felt a little better. When my WSO stepped out of the jet first, the plane captain shined a blue light on the ladder for him so he could see where his feet were going. When I got out and felt the heavy load in my underwear heaving beneath me, there was no light. I didn’t blame him for not wanting to see the carnage, but I was kind of miffed.

 下一次抵近很平稳，勾住了第三根还不错（我们瞄准的及格线）。但是损害已然造成。我知道航空中队的所有人都已经得到消息了。我们驶过长长的一段跑道停在舰艏，甲板上最黑暗的角落。当我们到达时，我看到了我的室友站在那里，带着毛巾和一套备用的飞行服，这能让我得到些许安慰。当我的WSO先从飞机上离开，机长用蓝光照着梯子照清落脚点。当我离开飞机，感受着内裤里沉甸甸一坨正不断向下扯着我时，没有灯光。我不怪他，毕竟没有人会想要看到那灿烈的现场，但我还是有些不忿。

I went straight to the bathroom right beneath the flight deck and carefully disrobed.

下机后，我直接冲入了飞行甲板下的卫生间，并小心地脱得一件不剩。

Assessing The Undergarment Wreckage

内衣残骸状况评估

This is the point where I’d like to extend a firm thank you to Mr. Calvin Klein. Shockingly, as I peeled off my flight gear (g-suit, vest, flight suit) I noticed that there wasn’t anything there. The high thread count and durable construction of your Cotton-Stretch underwear is incomparable. I will wear your underwear for the rest of my life. It kept pounds of brownie batter completely contained through high-g maneuvers and an aircraft carrier arrestment. Your underwear is tested, sir. Thank you.

在这里，我需要向卡尔文·克莱恩先生提出由衷的感谢。令我震惊的是，当我一层一层地剥下我的飞行装备（抗荷服，背心，飞行服），我注意到上面什么都没有沾。您所设计的弹力棉内衣不论是织物密度还是其耐用结构都是无与伦比的。我的余生都将穿着您的内裤。您的内裤曾包裹着几磅重的巧克力蛋糕糊并成功地在高离心力机动与航母阻拦索下维持了下来。您的内裤已被验证，先生。谢谢您。

There was, however, another guy in the restroom who, upon seeing me in full flight gear, asked: “What the fuck are you doing?” I looked at him with a thousand-yard stare and responded: “I shit my pants. Any more questions?” He quickly nodded his head in an apparent sign of respect and went on his merry way. I spent the next hour in complete agony as the boat shower first did not turn on, then violently shifted from scalding hot to ice cold, per usual. I picked away at the mess and was truly and completely miserable. Afterwards I put my friend’s flight suit on, made my way to the laundry room, and carefully washed my flight gear per protocol (yes, there’s a protocol for “soiled flight gear”). 

然而此时，厕所内，还有一个大哥，看到我穿着整套飞行装备，问道：“你™在干啥？”我用能够洞穿他灵魂最深处的眼神看着他回答：“我拉裤子里了。有问题吗？”他很快地，带着某种敬意般点了点头，然后继续他快乐的人生了。我接下来的几个小时依然痛苦不堪，先是船上的淋浴压根没开，随后水温又从沸腾变为冰冷，和平时一样。收拾着烂摊子，我感觉自己的人生只有一个惨字。我换上了朋友的飞行服，冲进洗衣房，并根据规定仔细地清洗着我的飞行装备（没错，对于被污染的飞行装备有着专门的规定）。

My New Callsign

我的新呼号

When I got back to the ready room, the guy from the “physiological episode” incident was there. He immediately said “dude” in his signature low-pitched voice and opened his arms for a hug. I knew he completely understood me as a person at that moment. I turned my head and saw that the callsign review board was FILLED to the brim with callsigns for me. I figured I could look at them in the morning.

当我回到准备室，那个“生理反应发作”事故的家伙也在这。看到我，他用他那招牌的男低音说着“哥们”并伸开胳膊准备拥抱我。我知道他此时完全理解我作为一个人的心情。我扭过头，看到了呼号命名板上为我准备的呼号已经挤到了边缘。我寻思着我早上可以过来看一看。

When it came time to decide my callsign, there were two options that everyone rallied behind. The first was an ode to our radio calls to communicate missile-shoots. “Fox-two” is the brevity term for shooting a heat seeking missile, and if you add “two-ship” to it, it means you shot two missiles at two different aircraft. The suggestion “Fox-poo two-shits” had a large contingent of the squadron howling. The other one was simply “STAB” for “shit twice and boltered.” The votes were 50-50. We were at a bar in Manila, Philippines at the time, and it was decided that each callsign would be assigned a representative, and whoever could finish their beverage faster would win.

终于到了决定我呼号的时候，整理过后大家留下了两个选择。第一个是为了致敬通讯中导弹发射时使用的代码。“FOX2”是发射热追踪导弹时使用的代码，如果你在这后面加上“2ship”，这意味着你向两架不同的敌机发射了两枚导弹。“狐屎2屎”的建议在中队里呼声很高。另一个则是简单的“STAB”，全称是“拉了两次还脱缰”。投票比例达到了50:50。当时我们在菲律宾马尼拉的一家酒吧，最后大家决定每个选项将派出一名代表，谁喝得快就算赢。

Now I'm STAB. 

现在，我名为STAB。