In Days of Yore

8-inch, 5.25-inch, and 3.5-inch floppy disks

Back in the days before the Internet, back when some military bases still had computers which could (and did) use punch cards. Back when, wait, what? These things...

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Yup, back in the Pleistocene Epoch, I was a brand new Air Force computer guy. They'd sent me off to college to be edumacated in the ways of the magical thinking box, a long tale, part one of which is here. I got through the tech school (bit of a vacation that) and wound up at Offutt AFB in Nebraska. A place I remember fondly. No, really.

At first they didn't know what to do with me...

"You just finished college and tech school? Why'd you go to the tech school?"

"Uh, I'm in the Air Force, they ordered me to do that."

"Oh."

Off to Configuration Management (CM) I went.

In software engineering, software configuration management (SCM) is the task of tracking and controlling changes in the software, part of the larger cross-disciplinary field of configuration management. SCM practices include revision control and the establishment of baselines. If something goes wrong, SCM can determine what was changed and who changed it. If a configuration is working well, SCM can determine how to replicate it across many hosts. (Source)

As the only software being produced by my little corner of the Strategic Communications Division (STRATCOMDIV. No, really.) was the Military Airspace Management System (MASM), which was done on the second floor (we lower orders dwelled on the first floor), and we first floor types were forbidden to go anywhere near MASM, there wasn't much to do on the first floor.

One thing we had to do was gather some data on something (I forget what), then take it to SAC HQ to load it onto the classified mainframe computer. Our data was not classified, nor was it, I discovered later, very important. It produced a report no one read. Ever.

Our other task was controlling the commercial software we used on our vastly overpriced IBM PC clones. Which you could buy off the government contract for $2000.00 or buy downtown (a better model) for $1000.00. Yeah, we jumped all over that. Not.

Anyhoo, I recall we had 20 PCs floating around for various reasons, mostly for word processing. Every now and then the department would buy new software for the PCs which we in CM would log in, make copies of, and control. As each machine had to have its own software we bought 20 of everything.

Now one day new software arrived, a lovely lady by the name of Gigi (actually her initials), was detailed to show me the whole process of logging in software, making copies, then loading it on the computers.

She brought me to this big closet on the first floor which was packed from floor to ceiling with boxes of software on 5 1/4 inch floppy disks. Hundreds upon hundreds of disks all in boxes, some from the manufacturer, some which were obviously copies which we had made.

I was amazed.

Kinda like this...
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Then I learned the horrible truth, there were actually only about five different software packages in there, four to five versions of each. As each version, back then, came on 10 to even 20 disks, there were a lot of disks for 20 computers. To make matters worse, for each disk they would make a "master copy" and a "backup copy." For each and every software package for each and every PC. One new software package for one computer could be 60 disks total, times 20 computers, times however many other software packages we had. To include a few compilers for the one or two people on the first floor who actually developed software.

"Uh, why not open one package, make one copy of all the disks, and use those copies to load the software on all 20 machines. I mean we do them one at a time, right?"

Gigi just kind of looked at me, like I was some kind of revolutionary nut job, then said, "The regulations require us to do it that way."

Of course, being a royal pain in the ass, I wanted to actually see that "regulation." Which she got a copy of and showed me. Turns out that it wasn't an actual Air Force regulation, it was a local policy, not even a unit policy but specific to our department, first floor only of course.

"What idiot wrote this? It's stuff and bloody nonsense."

So off we went to see Mitch, a retired Air Force chief and our section manager. Gigi explained things to Mitch, who sighed, gave me an "are you going to be a pain in my ass for the next three years look," then took the policy and read it.

"Where did you get this Gigi?"

"Remember last year when you had Lieutenant Dumas*, write a procedure for software backups? This is it."

"Oh dear, this is pure nonsense, who told you to use this?"

"Uh, Mr Leerdoll** said to use it."

"Okay, Gigi, go make those copies and start installing the software on the machines. Make just one copy. Okay?"

"Okay Mitch." And off she went.

"Not so fast Goodrich. I want you to redo this policy. This one is nonsense."

"Certainly Mitch, I'll get right on it."

I did and the new policy went into effect. It also said that only the latest and the previous versions of the software need to be kept. All others should be destroyed. (Heaven forfend that one of the troops might take an old copy of Word Perfect home!)

While that little episode gave me a rather good impression of Mitch, later that year he had me go to a meeting in his stead and take notes. So I did. My high opinion of him rather sank after this.

"Goodrich, I saw the notes you left on my desk."

"Okay, great. I wrote down what was discussed and the actions we're responsible for and..."

"They're in the wrong format."

"Uh, what?"

"They should be written up as a memo for record with the date, time, and location of the meeting and who was there."

"Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously."

"With all due respect Mitch, no. You asked me to fill in for you, which I did and which the colonel was pretty mad about, yeah, the note on the bottom says call him, ASAP. You have the information you need. I am not your secretary, nor am I the company effing clerk."

"We'll see about this." And off he went.

I could hear the colonel yelling at Mitch from two offices down. The man was most unhappy. Not long after that I got promoted and sent to the second floor. As I was now an E-6 Tech Sergeant and the two E-5 Staff Sergeants were always fighting over who was in charge, it was thought to throw me into the mix.

I had never been so happy to change jobs within the same unit.

And no, I never did put those notes in the "correct" format.

Always the rebel.

Sláinte!

* The "s" is not silent.
** Not his real name, but damned close. Bit of an idiot he was.