There's a small city in Texas named Menard.
Long ago and far away, when the no-longer-extant 6th Cavalry Brigade (Air Combat) was redeploying from a week in the field SW of Midland, we had a Forward Arming and Refuel Point (FARP) set up outside Menard so that our helicopters could get refueled on the way back to Fort Hood.
The FARP was near a sheep ranch, and it smelled to high heaven. We were glad to leave.
There was a lightning strike in the area and the FARP had to shut down. One of my flight of four Apaches had only gotten about halfway refueled. Rather than wait an unknown time for the weather to clear, we did a fuel calculation, which worked out OK, and decided to fly on to Fort Hood.
Things got a little tense on the approach into Hood Army Airfield. The low-fuel Apache wasn't running on fumes, but it was reaching the 30-minute-reserve point by the time we landed.
We had at least one alternative refuel point we could have used had that Apache needed to land earlier.
Anyway, here's to Menard and stinky sheep!