The End of the Adventure

This is it! The final week at COT...the end of this particular adventure. Monday was rather unremarkable. We had our last PT session, which consisted of a 35-minute easy run. With 330 people all on the track at once, it was rather ridiculous. Also, we had our second parade practice, the first having been on Friday. Since I was among the masses, it was pretty easy: just stand still for most of the ceremony, and then follow instructions for the rest. Basically, we did a few rounds of saluting, marched in a big circle to show off our stuff to the crowd, and said the Oath of Office once more to reaffirm our commission and commitment. Easy stuff. Very warm in the Alabama sun. Our shiny black shoes particularly soaked up the sun -- it felt like my feet were in an oven.

On Tuesday, we had our second round of LRC. By then, my flightmates had recognized that I enjoy and am pretty good at climbing all over things, so I often was given the role of "scout" or something similar. I'd get to climb or be hoisted up a wall or pole or rope or whatever it was so I could scope out the rest of the obstacle and try traversing it alone. It was fun! It also led to some very strangely placed bruises. Before each obstacle, we Sidewinders decided to be extra cool and standardize our Camelbaks in Sidewinder style: we arranged them into the letter S. It looked spectacular. Unfortunately, I did not get a picture of it, so just imagine 16 black backpacks arranged on white gravel into a giant S. Impressive.

Later that night was the Dining In, which is a huge tradition in the military. We had a "Combat" Dining In, so we all wore ABUs for our last time. We saw this as an opportunity to roll up our sleeves and get Sidewinder (Sharpie) tattoos again, and this time, even Capt Raley participated! Throughout the night, we were all careful not to break any rules of the mess for fear of the grog bowl, a toilet bowl filled with very alcoholic punch. That wasn't the bad part about it, though; the scary part was the thought of performing all of the procedures required for anyone sent to the bowl. If I remember correctly, it involved at least 4 about-faces, addressing the president and the mess, and turning the cup upside-down over your head to prove the drink was gone. It was particularly fun to see some of the flight commanders being sent up there for various "offenses." Another highlight of the evening was watching a game of crud, which is essentially full-body-contact pool. I'd like to try it sometime!

A spectacular show of Sidewinder spirit

The next morning, we got to sleep in until 0630! Unfortunately, by that point, we were all accustomed to waking up at 0440, so I kept waking up between 0500 and 0630 because I kept having dreams that we were late. Some of my other flightmates said the same thing happened to them. Yet more evidence that they train you the way they need you to be trained. Wednesday was the day of our individual evaluations with the flight commander, so for much of the day we just sat around in the flight room, patiently waiting our turns. Some people were smart and brought cards, so we were able to start up a few games of Euchre. It was also prime time for my fellow card-playing flightmates to make fun of my Minnesotan accent. They refused to believe that mine is actually very, very little compared to many of the people I know at home, so they teased me relentlessly.

Other flightmates found alternate ways to keep occupied.

That night was our flight dinner. All of us, including Capt Raley, were able to dress in civilian clothes and meet at an Italian restaurant in Montgomery. Some of the guys thought it would be funny to tell the waiters that it was Capt Raley's birthday. She did an excellent job at playing along when the free cake arrived; she even cooperated and graced us with a speech saying how sincerely "pleased" and "honored" she was to be spending her "23rd birthday" with all of us.

Thursday was the beginning of the end. We had to go through a lot of the final outprocessing that day, which was an interesting (and, of course, hilarious) experience because it meant Capt Raley had to come to the dorm. As she moved from room to room, each pair of roommates would enthusiastically call the room to attention. She would shake her head and maybe make some sarcastic remark and then continue on with her briefing as if we weren't behaving completely ridiculously. By the time she came to my and Lt Luu's room, the last room, at least 6 other Sidewinders had hidden themselves in preparation for her entrance. When she stepped over the threshhold, we all stood and shouted, "ROOM TENCH HUT!" It was spectacular, full of oomph. Later, we lined up in the hallway to call the hall to attention when she exited a different room. It was impressive to hear immediately back-to-back, "ROOM TENCH HUT!" "HALL TENCH HUT!" Ridiculous? Yes. Fun? Undoubtedly.

Stalking the hallway, waiting for Capt Raley to emerge...

That afternoon was the awards ceremony, which was essentially the graduation ceremony. There was a great slideshow of some of the best pictures from all of COT. That was probably the highlight. Also, awards were given to top performers in athletics, academics, and overall. Additionally, the top 10% of the class received Distinguished Graduate certificates from Col Koch; my roommate and I each received this honor and were able to go up on stage and shake the colonel's hand, which was pretty exciting. Afterwards, back at the flight room, we all received graduation certificates from Capt Raley. She even did a mock ceremony for those who demanded some pomp and circumstance. The most exciting part for me was receiving our Air Force RMOs, which are totally awesome.

Getting a certificate is fun!

Friday morning was the final bit of graduation, the parade. At first it looked like the weather would not cooperate, but after a brief downpour, things cleared up enough for the parade to go on. The field may have been a little soggy, but we were still able to march and look sharp for all the guests that had come.

Griffin 2 Squadron stays in step...

...says the Oath of Office...

...and celebrates being officers.

One last chance to say goodbye to friends...

One last chance to be among Sidewinders...

And one last chance to show the Falcons who's boss.

And that was the end of COT. Three flights later, I was back in Rochester, away from all of the friends and memories I had made in Alabama. I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat. I was really blessed to make so many good friends; it truly did feel like a family. I know the Air Force was the right decision for me; now I just have to get through 4 years of medical school. Speaking of which, tomorrow is the day I leave to begin the trip to New York. With any luck, I will be all moved into my new apartment in the Bronx on Saturday. Big Apple, here I come!

Time for COT Fun and Games

After the brutally late night studying for CWT #2, we were subjected to, in my opinion, the worst pain of the entire month. Yes, we had one session of strength-training PT (the previous one having been rained out) the morning after we had gotten only 4 hours of sleep. Strength training is normally a fun challenge, but not this strength training. We did multiple sets of all different types of push-ups, sit-ups, and other exercises that required the use of our vile, ringworm-harboring PT mats. The worst was partner push-ups: Both partners did push-ups at the same time, but one partner rested her legs across the other partner's back. Luckily, my partner was about the same size and ability as me. I heard of many comically mismatched pair-ups and thanked my lucky stars the kind woman from Romeo Flight was willing to pair up with me. The best part of all of this was the guys behind us who would shout, gasping in pain, study questions for the upcoming test in the midst of the most painful exercises. "Ahhh - what is - gasp - a contribution of...General - owww - LeMay...to early - pant - Air Force - uhhh - capabilities?" Despite the pain, it was hard not to laugh.

Sunrise or sunset? Doesn't matter. We saw both every day.

The next morning, we all ran a 5K. For me, it was no problem since I love to run. I can officially say now that I've run a race entirely before sunrise. Everyone else wasn't quite as thrilled as I was, but it was nice to run somewhere different than the track. We wove through part of the golf course, and the lake was beautiful with its mist in the moonlight and the pre-dawn glow of the horizon. Since it was a down-and-back course, I was able to cheer for my fellow Sidewinders as we passed each other on the path.

After the 5K, the rest of the week was fun and games, as far as many of us were concerned. On Tuesday evening, we all were bused to the AEF (Air Expeditionary Force) site, where we would spend the next two days and nights in a mock deployment. Beginning with dinner that night, 5 of our next 6 meals would be MREs -- lucky us. I can't even complain about the MREs, though, because the mealtimes were very fun and relaxed. Also, another reason Sidewinders are so awesome: instead of bartering and using fortunate finds (e.g. Skittles) as a bargaining tool, we all decided to share our good fortunes with one another. Many times, there would be a bag of M&M's, a pouch of patriotic cookies, and a bag of chocolate-covered espresso beans all being passed around the circle at the same time. It was beautiful.

What tasty treats will we find in our MREs today?

On Wednesday morning, after being awakened by reveille at 0445 and eating a relaxed breakfast, Griffin Squadron headed over to the challenge course, which consisted of rock climbing, rappelling, and a ropes course. We definitely started off our AEF experience the right way! Rock climbing was challenging in our big, clunky boots, especially since many of the rocks were loose and would spin unless you held them carefully.

It's lonely up on the wall, but the cheers of flightmates below provided encouragement.

Next we each did the "toothpick" -- we walked down and back across a log suspended 60 feet in the air. I thought it was easiest just to walk quickly and give myself no time to think or lose my balance. The toughest part was probably turning around and going back -- I knew I had made it that far already, but the tower looked a heck of a lot farther away than I remembered walking. We all encouraged each other, though, and everyone was able to succeed.

Capt van Hofwegen shows some serious balancing skills.

The final part of our morning was the ropes course, which was one of my highlights. I love stuff like this! We learned another rope-crawling technique on the ground (crawling on top of the rope rather than hanging down below it), and then we were ready for the course. We climbed cargo nets, crawled over and under ropes, jumped between planks, swung Tarzan-style from a platform to a cargo rope, and ended by zooming down the zipline, with fellow Sidewinders waiting to catch us.

I found a new skill...

...and a new fear of heights. Well, not really, but those planks are a lot more intimidating when you're looking down at a ground that's over 50 feet away.

During the downtime between challenge course events, our flight decided to become even more awesome and get matching "tattoos." That's right: Capt Frandsen gave each of us a Sidewinder tattoo on our left arms with a Sharpie marker. At first when some of the higher-ups noticed, they thought that we were up to some sort of mischief. When we pointed out that we all had the same tattoo -- that we were standardized within the flight -- they could only laugh and shake their heads in defeat. Sidewinders claimed their victory.

Ssssssidewinder sssssspirit

The other cool part of the AEF was the EMEDS exercise. This is another acronym I can't remember, but basically it was a field hospital exercise. Everyone was assigned specific jobs -- security, emergency department, med/surg, operating room, etc. I was given the fun and very messy task of being a patient. Why messy? Well, in the first scenario, I had been near a car bomb explosion and had gotten a knife lodged in my face. That's right, I had a plastic knife handle sticking out near my eye, and blood dripping down my shirt. (All of this was makeup, of course, but the woman in charge of the moulage did a damn good job making things look as realistic as possible.) In the second scenario, a mass casualty scenario, we all had blood and burns all over our arms, faces, shirts...it was awesome. It was really impressive to be a patient and just observe how seriously my classmates in hospital roles took the exercise, and how well they worked as a team under so much pressure. They are going to be some mighty fine officers.

The stellar emergency department team kept their cool even when they were flooded with mass casualty victims while under attack themselves.

On Friday morning, back on campus, we had the first half of the LRC (Leadership Reaction Course) exercise. It built on the concepts from Project X and WELPS, and it was meant to be the culmination and capstone of our leadership training. Every member of the flight had the opportunity to lead teams of 5 other flight members through 20-minute obstacles. In mine, all 6 of us had to get across a room filled with extremely toxic acid using nothing but two cans, a heavy pole, and strategically placed platforms. Oh yeah, and we also weren't allowed to make any noise because the guards were looking for us and would execute us if we were found.

That night, all 330 of us were carted over to the Officer's Club for an orientation. There we learned that you never call an RMO (round metallic object) a coin, never ring a bell, never set your hat down, and never go anywhere without your RMOs unless you want to buy a lot of drinks for people. We had a great time hanging out as a flight, especially since the flight commanders were all there as well. It was fun to get to know them in an environment outside of the classroom, or, in the case of Maj Donat, in an environment other than one in which he was yelling at us about our hats and our clearly faulty process that had not been standardized.

Taking a much-needed rest from dancing at the Officer's Club

We spent the rest of the weekend enjoying our freedom from tests, since CWT #2 had been the last academic task of COT. On Saturday night, we unknowingly joined 5 other COT flights and 1 BOT flight at the Montgomery Brew Pub for dinner, which was a raucously good time. We then joined 2 other flights (unscheduled, again) at a club nearby for some drinks and dancing. Being good officers, we were all back at the dorms before the midnight curfew. On Sunday afternoon, a few of us spent a long, relaxing afternoon at the base pool. After writing our last morale letters that night, we prepared ourselves for our final week of COT.

Chillin' at the Brew Pub with the rest of the Sidewinders. I could already tell it would be a sad day when we all left COT to go to our new homes.

Struggling to Stay Awake...and a New Look

As the third week at COT rolled around, we were subjected to our second test, CWT #1 (Comprehensive Written Test). This one covered all of the testable material from lecture up to that point. We spent an agonizing weekend (aside from the spirit mission, of course) compiling all of the SOBs (no, not that -- Samples of Behavior, which were essentially the main points that we were supposed to take home from each lesson). Some of the lessons were easy to recall, but others, e.g. Principles of War and Tenets of Air and Space Power, were more cumbersome to memorize. Overall, though, we all did well; our whole flight passed the test, as did 97% of the class as a whole. Go Class 09-05!

After that, a lot of the rest of the week was spent in class again. Many days, we had up to 9 hours of class. It wasn't so bad when we could switch between Boyd and the flight room, but there were several times when we had 4 hours straight in Boyd. Cue the Jolly Ranchers and caffeine gum. During this week, we learned more about supervision, feedback, and the total awesomeness of the Air Force through its history and its role in the world today. These were definitely interesting lessons, but again, the drag of continual nights with less than 6 hours of sleep and hours upon hours in comfy red chairs led to tempting circumstances...

Don't worry, these are not Sidewinders.

Our fun exercise of the week was WELPS, the Wingman Exercise in Leadership Problem Solving. Before I move on, I have to admit that I made up that name. I mean, I know it was called WELPS, and I know it was something about wingmen and leadership, but I can't remember what the rest of the acronym stands for. That's the danger of using acronyms constantly, I suppose. Anyway, WELPS was a little like Project X in that we were put in teams of 6 to complete 20-minute missions, but this time, a leader and assistant leader were designated for each team. Also, the missions had more of an orienteering bent: we had to learn to find an azimuth, count our paces, and use hand signals, because the scenarios often involved enemies at close range waiting to fire. At one point I even got to use my belt as a tourniquet for a fellow team member who was shot in the leg by a sniper. I had a lot of fun at WELPS, and it seemed that our flight grew even more as a team.

Most WELPS briefings sounded like a Choose-Your-Own-Adventure book: "You have 20 minutes before the enemies arrive. HURRY!"

Week 3 also marked the first time we got to wear our blues, since our nametags had come in. It was really exciting; everyone looked so sharp! I think we all felt extra pressure to look good, too, because our marching became much cleaner any time we were wearing our blues. We were also subjected to the pain of pinning rank and insignia onto our full dress uniform. Again, without Lt Weller and a good ruler, we would have been completely lost. We had the opportunity to show off our good looks for flight photos and for our briefings. Each of us had to give a 5-9 minute briefing on a topic of our choosing; the only guidelines were that the topic needed to be confined to a single region of the world and that it needed to have some relation to the U.S. military. I chose to talk about India's space program. Go figure.

Sssssilly Sidewinderssssss showing off their sssssstuff.

The end of the week was marked by the PFA, the Physical Fitness Assessment, the real deal. We all had to do the push-ups, sit-ups, 1.5-mile run, and waist measurement again. Happily, it seemed that most of my flightmates were able to increase their scores from the PFB. I was excited because I shaved 20 seconds off my run, even though I felt dead tired and had already maxed out on the points I could get from the run anyway. We all felt proud of ourselves going into hall call #2 that afternoon. Although Sidewinder Flight did not win any awards, we were able to gloat about our falcon-stealing mission. I'd take that over an award any day. Also, hall call was exciting because we received second class privileges: that's right, we were able to leave base during the weekend.

It probably sounds ridiculous. We had only been at Maxwell for 3 class weeks, which is only 2 1/2 weeks total. What's the big deal about leaving base? Freedom. We could drive our own cars, wear our own clothes, eat anywhere and anything we wanted, loiter outside, walk (rather than march), and just be ourselves. It was easy to tell how well the Air Force had already trained us, though, because at restaurants and movie theaters, we couldn't stop saying ma'am and sir to everyone we talked to. We also tried, but mostly failed, to call each other by our first names. Rank and last name had become so familiar by then that it was hard to break the habit.

On Friday night, we went to a Mexican restaurant and just hung out. It was amazing. We laughed and joked giddily all night, enjoying our food and drinks on the patio in the perfect summer night air. We got to see each other in civilian clothes for the first time since the frantic TD-0 and TD-1, when clothes were the furthest things from our minds. It was such a bizarre sight to see flightmates look like normal people; we had only gotten to know each other in uniform, and it was hard to imagine at first what it would actually be like to know each other in a non-Air Force context. The next night, we continued to enjoy our freedom by eating at O'Charley's and then catching a movie at the theater. Despite another CWT looming on Monday, we were determined to take full advantage of our newfound freedom and the ability to be normal people for a few days.

Civilian clothes felt nice after only being allowed to wear uniforms for 2 1/2 weeks.

Sunday was another frantic day of studying. We had had our fun for the weekend; this was the day to hunker down and get ready for the looming CWT #2. We didn't completely forsake fun, though: some of us went to the base pool to study. I admit that we probably didn't study as hard as we could have, but it was nice to be in a more relaxed environment and be able to have fun and get work done at the same time. I was also able to go to church on base again. Each Sunday morning, Lt Puderbaugh and I headed to Chapel 1 for the Catholic Mass. The priest was awesome -- he incorporated church teachings, the military, and the readings of the week into each of his homilies. It was so cool to see how everything intertwined, and so compelling to hear him speak of it. Also, we enjoyed the donuts and coffee after Mass. It was another opportunity to act like normal people and socialize with others, something that was not possible during the tight meals of the first few weeks of COT.

Lt Puderbaugh and I were church buddies. It was really nice to have a fellow flightmate to go with each week.

A few of us stayed up late on Sunday night finishing our morale letters and getting in some last-minute studying for CWT #2. This may have been the only work night when we stayed up until mandatory lights-out at midnight. It was a heck of a finish to a very busy but exciting week, and we knew that it was the final push before the real fun began...

Of Assault Courses and Spirit Missions

The second week at COT was the beginning of our program in earnest. All of the confusion of the first week sorted itself out as we fell into our flight roles and mastered the rules and regulations as laid out by our OTSMAN. We came together even more as a flight, and we began to see exactly what it meant to be at COT -- constant activity and a beastly struggle to stay awake.

As during the first week, we awoke every morning at 0440, far before the sun rose. We had our first physical training experience on Monday, the day scheduled for our Physical Fitness Baseline assessment. This is the test used to see if we were in good enough shape to not only fall into Air Force standards, but also to participate in many of the physical activities that began that week. It consisted of a 1.5-mile run, sit-ups, push-ups, and a waist measurement (strange, I know). With 96 points total (out of 100 possible), I was the top in my flight, which was really gratifying after spending the spring and beginning of the summer training hard. Plus, it was a unique experience running with my shirt and shoelaces tucked in (stylish).

Tuesday brought the first of many of a series of experiences that I enjoyed the most while at COT. Strangely enough, all of these experiences began with an MRE (meal ready-to-eat) for breakfast. A word about MREs: They are huge. They have enough calories to sustain you for an entire day, if necessary. Also, they are as close to non-perishable as possible, which makes you wonder a bit what exactly is in your beef stew... At any rate, we all soon learned which items were desirable (Skittles, M&M's, peanut butter, Pop Tarts) and could be easily bartered among the flight. Some of the more interesting items included kippered beef snack, patriotic cookies, and maple sausage. Despite the less desirable food quality of MREs, I came to look forward to MRE meals because it meant we could actually relax (rather than eat in less than 8 minutes), talk to fellow flightmates, and not worry about downing 24 ounces of water per meal.

You know it's going to be a great day when you find Skittles in your MRE.

After our first of many MRE breakfasts, we were bused to the Assault Course. Here we each had the opportunity to climb up and down unstable logs and cargo nets, leap and climb over walls and monkey bars, and shimmy up and down ropes and through the sand. We all cheered for each other as we faced each of these unique physical challenges, and we even got to cheer on Capt Raley as she participated alongside us. We also had the opportunity to practice our Sidewinder chant and get pumped up for how awesome our flight was.

It may not look that tough, but this can be a difficult task for short legs...

The next day, after another MRE breakfast, we participated in Project X, which is a team-building exercise. We were given ridiculous scenarios which posed both mental and physical challenges; our task was to work in teams of 6 to solve and complete each task in 20 minutes. Needless to say, it's not easy to transport 5 team members and a medicine box across a raging river (with the sixth member, the strongest one, already across) with only a too-short ladder and 4 various-sized ropes in under 20 minutes. Inevitably, someone ends up in the drink. (Not me, thankfully.) The tasks were fun and challenging, and they allowed us to see where some of our strengths and weaknesses were as team members.

The rest of the week was spent mostly in class. We learned about leadership, team-building, management, and Air Force and military doctrine. We came to rely heavily on Jolly Ranchers, caffeinated gum, and a friendly tap on the shoulder from fellow flightmates to stay awake, especially during the hours-long Boyd sessions. The instructors, for their part, were phenomenal. They knew that we were running on less than 6 hours of sleep per night, and they did their best to keep us entertained with video clips and anecdotes even while teaching such thrilling topics as "Management Functions and Principles." Also, many of the take-home points were compiled into conveniently standardized lists, such as the 4 stages of team-building: forming, norming, storming, performing. I'm really looking foward to whipping that one out at some point in medical school.

A much-needed break between classes in Boyd Auditorium.

Friday morning was our first hall call. What is hall call, you may ask. Hall call is an exciting ceremony in which we all get to yell really loud and show off our spirit for our flight, our squadron, and our Air Force. The academic, athletic, and overall flights of the week are given honors, and the squadron of the week is named as well. At the first hall call (and all subsequent ones, I'm afraid), Sidewinder Flight did not win any awards. We did, however, win the heart of our squadron commander, Capt Stapleton, who said that we had the most unique chant. How unique, you may ask. Well, here it is:

SIERRA! This flight is...
Automatic
Supersonic
Hypnotic
Funky freshhhhhhhhhh!

SIDEWINDERS! Get b'hind us! Cuz...
We da best
Stayin fresh
Keep it steezy
Nice and easy

Say WHAT?!
SIDEWINDERSSSSSSSSSSSS!
SHO'NUF!

At the end, when we shouted SHO'NUF!, we'd make our arms into a snake symbol to show just how awesome we were.

Showing some Sidewinder spirit!

At hall call, we were awarded third-class privileges, which meant that we could go anywhere on base that weekend -- we were no longer confined to the OTS complex. That may not sound too exciting, but being Sidewinders, we took full advantage of the situation. That's right: we went bowling. Since we were still required to wear uniforms all the time, we got a few funny looks as a horde of us entered the bowling alley wearing ABUs (Airman Battle Uniforms -- the camouflage ones), but we didn't care. We giddily enjoyed this normal activity even more than second graders on a field trip to the zoo.

The shoes clearly complement the look.

Our mischief for the weekend was not complete, however. All throughout the week, the Falcon Squadron had been annoying us. Each time they passed by their statue outside of the DFAC (dining facility), they would halt, pat it on the head, and then continue marching while bellowing the Falcon cheer. All throughout the week, my fellow flightmates and I sneaked honey packets out of the DFAC at mealtime. Our intention was to covertly dump honey on the statue's head, giving all the Falcons sticky hands for their arrogance. The plan changed when one of my flightmates, Capt Frandsen, realized that the statues were not very heavy and could be moved. Thus our true spirit mission was born: Lt Luu, Lt Weller, and I would keep watch and take pictures while Capt Frandsen, Capt Olsen, Lt Dollar, and Lt Coulter surreptitiously slipped the statue into an oversized duffel bag; Lt Gould would wait faithfully and patiently to let us in the back door of the dorm. All of this was done under the cover of darkness. It was a success: the poor Falcons had to put up with the double indignity of missing their statue and facing down the mocking ransom posters Capt Frandsen posted all over the dorm. On top of that, we got a bit creative and gave the statue a makeover:

Redecoration-and-ransom party

The triumphant return of our hostage was nearly thwarted when the Falcons stole the CQ log (charge of quarters -- it's what we had to sign in/out of for everything), but luckily we had already sent 4 of our flightmates outside, so they returned the hostage while the rest of us waited at the back door. It was an exciting triumph and the first of many attempts to make ourselves known. Believe me, we succeeded.

Finished product -- vile bird.

And the rest is a story for a later post.

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.