First Attempt to Make Up for Failure

Well, my plan to update my blog throughout Air Force training has clearly failed. In my defense, I didn't realize that we would have absolutely no access to those vital things such as commercial e-mail, Facebook, and, of course, blogs from our government computers. Silly me. At any rate, I've had a few days to sort through my numerous e-mails and pictures and am now ready (I think) to recreate my training experience right here on this very blog! Lucky you. Warning: This may take multiple posts. A month of nonstop intensity leads to interesting stories, and I'd like to do justice to as many of them as possible...

Before I begin, let me apologize for what I will call "acronym soup." In the Air Force, everything is abbreviated, and thank goodness for that. Honestly, who wants to call their studying material "Samples of Behavior" every single time you're taking notes? SOBs will do just fine...and will almost certainly lead to confusion for the uninitiated. I'll try to keep the acronyms to a minimum, but this could easily become another failure.

Training began on June 29, officially called TD-0 (Training Day 0). We quickly learned what it meant to stand at attention as well as the consequences of failing to begin every statement with "sir" or "ma'am" -- lots of yelling. In fact, most of my initial memories up through the second week consist of lots of yelling. Don't worry, they only do what they need to do to make you into what they need you to be. And they are damn good at it.

Our wake-up call on TD-1 was one of my more unique experiences. We were all delicately awakened at 0430 by a drill sergeant pounding and kicking our doors yelling, "Get UP! Get OUT IN THE HALLWAY! NOW!" After being allowed approximately 2.5 minutes to dress, brush our teeth, and gather our important paperwork, we were herded to the parade field amidst never-ending yelling to participate in the Blue Line Ceremony, in which we recited the Airman's Creed and stepped over a blue line, representing our crossing into the Air Force. I'm afraid some of the symbolism may have been lost given the early hour, but still, even amidst the yelling and the fog of sleepiness, I felt happy with my decision and excitement for what was to come.

The rest of TD-1 was a blur, what with all the inprocessing paperwork and procedures. We all bought our uniforms that day as well, which was exciting because, to me, the uniform makes it real. I'm really in the Air Force. That night, one of the girls in my flight who had been a prior enlisted helped us learn how to wear the uniform -- how to pin on rank, make the hat stand up straight, tuck our pants into the blousing straps, etc. Without her, I don't know how we would have survived, especially since we had under 10 minutes to get up, get dressed, brush teeth, etc. each morning.

Without Angela, we would have been totally clueless.

Speaking of my flight, I realize that I should explain how we were divided up at COT (Commissioned Officer Training). First off, there were 330 in my class, which is absolutely huge. We were divided into 3 squadrons: Falcons, Guardians, and Griffins. I was in the Griffin Squadron, which was clearly the best squadron. Each squadron was divided into 7 flights with 16 people apiece, and the flights were "numbered" by the phonetic alphabet: Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, etc. I was in Sierra Flight, which was clearly the best flight. If there was an award for Awesome and Win, we would have taken it, hands down. As it were, we did not win any awards, but we did win the recognition of the entire class for our attention-getting techniques, boldness in spirit missions, and unique chants. We renamed ourselves the Sidewinder Flight and took care to make use of both the snake and the missile as our "mascots."

Classic Sidewinder decorations incorporating both aspects of our awesome alter-ego. Notice the snake hanging from the top of the missile.

I spent the majority of the month with the other 15 members of my flight. We were together almost constantly, except to sleep, when we were still with our roommates (who were also fellow flight members). Luckily, I had a completely awesome flight. Everyone had unique characteristics, but we worked together to endow the flight with a pervading sense of silliness and fun. I've only been away from COT for 4 days so far, but I already miss my flightmates dearly because of how close we all became.

Sidewindersssssss

I'll talk more about our awesomeness later. Remember that 91-page document I mentioned in a previous post? Well, we had a test on it the first Saturday there, which happened to be the Fourth of July. The rest of the week leading up to that was mostly a blur. We had classes in Boyd Auditorium (a.k.a. the Big Red Bed or the Coma Dome) with all 330 of us as well as smaller classes with just our flight in the flight room. We had uniform inspections and learned that cables -- those little threads that work themselves loose and beg to be cut -- are a no-no on a well groomed uniform. Also, significantly, we met our flight commander, Capt Raley. As terrified of her as we were the first day, we soon came to love her because she was, simply put, awesome. Perhaps it's a sign of affection that even up until the last day, we were calling rooms and hallways to attention when she entered, even after her continual requests to "KEEP YOUR SEATS!" and "BE AT EASE!" If there's one thing Sidewinders are not, it is obedient.

This picture is best described in the words of Capt Olsen: "Classic. Sidewinders desperate for approval."

On the Fourth of July, once we finished the test on the OTSMAN (the 91-page document previously mentioned), we spent the rest of the day trying to figure out how to celebrate the holiday which clearly meant a lot to all of us. Unfortunately, being confined to the OTS (Officer Training School) campus, we had few options. When darkness fell, we marched to the drill pad to "practice drill" and see if we could view the Montgomery fireworks from there. No luck. Instead, we sat in a circle on the blacktop and told our favorite Fourth of July stories. Later, back at the dorms, we discovered that the Montgomery fireworks were actually in the opposite direction than where we had been looking. We caught the end of them, and with the men singing "God Bless America" and most of the Sidewinders crowded into one dorm room, it was certainly a unique Fourth of July. We finished up the night with a game of Phase 10 and went to bed.

From now on, no Fourth of July will be complete without reflective PT gear, reflective belts, camelbaks, and flashlights with detachable cones.

With that, I will end this post and say that as crazy as the first week was, the following weeks continued to become increasingly more exciting. Be forewarned.