An excerpt from
one of CDR. Jack Woodul's highly enjoyable "Youthly Puresome" tales:
"On the road again, Puresome began to realize that the gallon of coke/coffee/Exedrin he had consumed as breakfast was saying, “Hi! Remember me?” from his nether regions. “No hill for a stepper,” thought Puresome, who gritted his teeth and concentrated on not wobbling around too much.
But as that great clock in the sky counted off another 1.0 of flight time, Youthly was fantasizing about hollow legs and trying desperately not to think about the wash of the waves below in the Golfo de Mexico. When his wingman noticed his lead was deteriorating, things were truly serious.
But the money the U.S. government had spent on survival training was not lost on Puresome. Inventorying the contents of the cockpit and wondering as to the waterproof qualities of his canvas nav bag, he happened to notice that his kneeboard radio frequency card was held in a zip-lock plastic sheath! Things moved smartly from here.
Quickly, he passed the lead to his wingman and advised him that he was going to move off from the flight to perform a control check. Seizing the stick between his knees and shucking the cards from the zip-lock, Puresome began the involved procedure of torso-harness, g-suit and flight-suit disassembly, as well as the search mission incident to the filling of the bag.
The rest of the flight marveled at the gyrations of the fighter undergoing rigorous control checking. Finally, it was done — the bag was safely sealed and stowed in a corner of the cockpit, and the flight suit, g-suit and torso harness were back in place."