Never the Same #88 Kirk’s Decision to Move On

We left a befuddled Kirk in the US Air Force Recruiting Office. Will he take the plunge?

  

Cue: “Step into the Sunshine” https://youtu.be/DsIoVyO5SK4?si=kEhCG3G5cM2dKVZP

 

            We find Kirk, small town born and raised, farm boy, mechanic wannabe, and stock car racer, just walked into the United States Air Force Recruiting Office. He doesn’t know what led him or drove him here, but we readers, yeah, we know what. The blue-suited United States Air Force Sergeant hovered near Kirk thinking that perhaps he caught a live one. Kirk eyed the sergeant taking in his name tag “Shaw” and then noticing the air force issued nameplate as “TSgt Michael B. Shaw. What a “TSgt” was, Kirk hadn’t a clue. He counted five stripes on Shaw’s sleeve and took in the several colorful ribbons on his chest. Must have been in the military forever Kirk hypothesized with no background knowledge whatsoever. He continued perusing the colorful air force propaganda.

            Here we see Kirk thinking about joining the United States Air Force when just a couple years ago he had been terrified with the possibility of getting drafted for the Viet Nam War. He took the diesel systems college course just to avoid the draft. Since then, the war ended unsuccessfully, I might add, the draft ended and the military went all volunteer, and here he was volunteering. Matters, opinions, and Kirk too can change overnight for sure. 

            Kirk gazed at the photos of airmen, were they called airmen, turning wrenches on a modern jet fighter he identified as a F-15, an air force icon of “air superiority.” He saw pictures of air force policemen, that he read called “Security Police.” They looked spiffy in their dark blue uniforms and berets. He could never be a cop, any kind of cop, ever.  They showed women in nurses’ garb and there he saw an airman driving a forklift. For the grand finale, they showed a guy wearing airborne headgear while securing cargo in the belly of a very large cargo plane. Yeah, Kirk thought, that would be something different for me, flying around in a military plane even though I’ve never flown. Would I like it? His interest built.

            “So here is a list of Enlisted Air Force Specialties, one hundred and twenty-three in all of all skills you can imagine and more you never thought of!” Shaw enthusiastically said.

            Kirk scanned it quickly, quicker when a sudden thought materialized in his frontal lobe. “How about being a pilot, an officer?”

            Shaw looked a little downhearted. “Yes, you can sign up to be an officer, if you have an earned degree. Do you?”

            Kirk’s short-lived enthusiasm crashed. “No. just a college one-year certificate course.”

            “I see,” Shaw said, now thinking he didn’t have a live one. “So are you honestly considering enlisting or just thinking about it.”

            “Oh, I’m really interested in joining, taking the plunge. How long do you sign up for, ah two or three years?”

            “The air force enlistment is four years, six for officers.”

            “Ah, all right. How fast can I get in? How about today?” Kirk asked, his brain in a befuddled state.

            Apparently, this waved a brilliant, scarlet red flag for TSgt Shaw because he backed a step before speaking.  “You can’t just walk into the United States Air Force the same day that you sign up. It takes time to check your background, your schooling, and you need to take a battery of exams and so on before entry. Why do need to sign up right away?” He paused, sizing Kirk up. “Do you have an arrest pending?”

            “What?” Kirk asked, his eyes still full of the colorful action-filled brochure.

            “Are the police after you?” TSgt Shaw paused a moment, acting like he didn’t want to say it, ask and hear the answer. “Do you have a criminal record?”

            “Well.” Kirk drew out not looking up and so not comprehending why the recruiter’s eyes grew wide. “I have a ‘failure to yield’ on my record.”

            “Failure to yield? Isn’t that a traffic infraction?” Shaw said, with a sense of relief in his tone.

            Kirk looked at Shaw. “Yeah, I had to go to court and pay a fine.”

            Shaw appeared incredulous. “That’s it? Just a traffic infraction on your record? Nothing else?”

            “Yeah, no, nothing else. Sorry.”

            “No, no problem with that. So, then, what’s your hurry?” He paused with a slight grin. “You get a girl pregnant?”

            “Nope.” Kirk succinctly said.

            “Okay. Okay. Then, I just can’t understand your rush to join.” He put his hands up. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ll sign you up so you can join the air force for whatever reason you deem…”

            Kirk shrugged. “I don’t know. The economy, no job, getting out of town, try something new, different like that…and…” Kirk pointed to the brochure, then looked away his eyes watery.

            “And?” Shaw asked, sensing something more in the air from Kirk.

            “I’m a stock car racer. A good one, too, but they’re not racing next year so I’m getting out of the racing arena.”

            “Oh, I understand now; you’ve been around after high school, done different things like hold down jobs and succeeded in a sideline or career that you can no longer pursue, so I fully understand. You’re a different sort of recruit from the majority of men and women right out of high school or still in school walking through that door who just want to get started with something and feel the United States Air Force will start a career for them. They are attracted to the college the air force can provide

            “I didn’t think about that benefit.”

            “It’s in the brochure there,” TSgt Shaw pointed.

            Kirk maybe saw it, but it didn’t click because he still suffered in a daze.

            “But, but I still want to get right in, fast as I can.”

            “If you have a specific AFSC, that’s the Air Force Specialty Code, in mind it could take five to twelve months to enter. There are training schools to arrange, schedule, openings in the career field and so on. And there might be special security concerns as well.”

            “And to go in right away?”

            “You mean for you to not reserve a career spot, an AFSC?” Kirk nodded. “Then, it still takes a couple months.”

            “Really? Why?”

            “Well, if you sign up today, I have the forms to make it happen. Then, with the information you provide, they can check your background, education, churches, friends, police records and so on.”

            “I had no idea about all that.” Kirk looked at TSgt Shaw, his stripes, the framed photographs on the walls. “Yeah. I’ll go ahead and do it.”

            “Sign up without a reserve? That’ll mean in basic they’ll assign a career field for you, but there’s always a possibility that after a certain amount of time in you can sometimes move into a field you’re interested in. By then, you’ll know more about the air force and those other fields you might be interested in. Besides, you can put your preferences on your application for enlistment, but it doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll get any of them because the needs of the air force come first unless, of course, you reserve one of those particular fields.”

            “Seems fair enough.” Kirk nodded slowly. “Yeah, I’ll sign up today. You know, to get going on it. So, what do I have to sign, ah, fill out?”

            “Sure, I’ll get the forms for you, ah, I didn’t get your name. “

            “Kirk, Kirk Biscuit,” Kirk said, still rather dazed.

            “Glad to meet you and appreciate your decision to join,” Shaw stuck his hand out and they shook. “I’m Michael Shaw.”

            “What’s your rank, then?” Kirk asked, looking at Shaw’s stripes.

            “Oh right, of course you wouldn’t know. Technical Sergeant Shaw is my entire title.” Kirk let out a nonverbal comprehension. Shaw opened a gray steel file cabinet and drew out a form. Kirk’s eyes caught right away that the form had multiple pages. “Kirk. You can sit at that desk over there to fill out the form. Be honest and truthful on the form because they’ll look into everything you put on it. On your first appointment, you must provide all relevant documentation to prove your entries on the form such as birth certificate, diplomas, driver’s license and so on as stated on the form.”

            “Sure,” Kirk said, nodding his head. Then he realized, noticing his hand trembled as he grasped the form. What am I doing? He asked himself. He stood there, thinking. He could trash the form, turnaround and walk out the door. Am I serious about this and leaving everything I had, and had done, behind? I guess I am, he confirmed to himself as he sat down to start.

           

 

            The top of the form appeared to ask basic personal information name, address, and how long he lived at the address. All my life, he mused, and put his age down. Went on asking for his social security number. Will this be my military Identification number? No idea.

            Then, the form dove a little deeper into Kirk’s life.  They requested level of education attained and locations attended. He entered grammar and high school as being the same address. He paused, recalling Babe and Dee as the best, most memorable elements of his education. He added his Vo-tech training and wondered if he should mention the troubleshooting contest he participated in. He decided it remained irrelevant, a literal insignificant speck of time lost in the flowing chronological river called Kirk’s life. He put down his one year of college for diesel systems which reminded him of Bonnie, the bohemian older girl he dated there. Kirk wondered if he kept his diplomas or where they’d be kept. He never thought he’d ever look or need them ever again. And there he was. Thinking through his education, he decided he couldn’t include his recent welding course because he quit.

            On personal information, they asked for any physical limitations, injuries or major surgeries. He recalled his broken finger tobogganing with Farrah. He put that down�"the broken finger, not how it happened and with who. They asked about his vision, if he wore glasses. Of course not, but they asked about color blindness which he suffered from. He wondered if he could be an airborne spotter of camouflaged enemy installation like his great uncle had in World War 2. Mmm. Is that even possible anymore in this advanced technological age of the 1970s?

            Driver licenses carried. Kirk entered his Class D and M license numbers indicating personal light truck, car and motorcycle.

            He thought what the heck? He entered his NASCAR license as well. He smiled despite his anxiousness, thinking the air force wouldn’t know what to think about that! Not that Kirk thought they’d do anything about it seeing the air force didn’t have a racing team!

            Employment: He entered his time at the Dodge dealership and then Georgia Pacific factory. He thought about his early employments at the corner gas station and short stints with the local farmers, but what the hey, they were unimportant in his book of life.

            References: He never had to cite references before, at least anywhere that mattered, seeing both his jobs transpired by basically walking right in and starting work. He thought for a few moments. He put down his neighbor farmer that had the pheasant farm, his Sunday School teacher, his third-grade teacher, and his junior high history teacher and coach in those sports Kirk participated in. Would my coach only remember me as losing every competition I entered?

            Air Force Specialty Preferences: Kirk had no idea what to put down considering there were so many. He wanted to avoid the police, office work, medical and more automobile maintenance, so recalling what Technical Shaw said, he’d probably not get what he wanted anyway so he entered Cargo Loadmaster, Airborne Systems Specialist, Avionics Test Specialist, Aircrew flight Equipment, Aircraft Maintenance. All most likely the most impressive and highly sought after careers.

            TSgt Shaw silently perused Kirk’s form. He stopped right at the top of the first page. “I should have noticed you’re a couple years older than the newly graduated high schoolers. Mmm, you know in a couple more years you wouldn’t been eligible to join because of the age limit.”

            “Really? I would not have guessed that could be a problem. So, I’m good?”

            “Yes, you are,” Shaw said, as his eyes scanned the form.  

            After a minute or so, Shaw’s eyes raised from Kirk’s form. “This looks good. Very good. You’ve included a lot of pertinent information for the investigators to check up on which will take a while, but with all you provided and good luck you’ll be able to enter fast.” He pointed at the form. “You sure went for the high-profile flight preferences. Good luck, you never know.”

            “How long then?” Kirk asked with consternation.  

            “Well, every recruit has different backgrounds and maybe concerns arise during the investigation, but I would say an average would be about three months.”

            Kirk let out a breath and shook his head. “Three months.”

            “It’ll come about soon enough, and you’ll be on your way of becoming Airman Biscuit.”

            “An airman, huh?”

            “Yes, Mister Biscuit, an airman like sailors, soldiers, and marines. So. Are you still sure you want to join? It’s entirely up to you before you sign the form. After that, you are basically in if you meet all the requirements.”

            Kirk’s head still spun, but he looked at Shaw’s uniform and Dee’s words bubbled up in his mind. “I decided to join the navy because I just need to get away from my family, some bad memories, and the same old hometown.”

            “Yes. “I’ll sign up right now.” He leaned over TSgt Shaw’s desk, signed and dated the bottom of the form.

             Shaw witnessed the signature and signed right below Kirk’s John Hancock. He stood erect, tall and stuck his hand out to shake Kirk’s hand while scanning Kirk’s face for an emotion, which numb Kirk didn’t feel anything at the moment including the handshake.

             “So, you need to report to the Military Entrance Processing Station, the MEPS, in the Big City, in ten days, January fifth. It’ll be a great way to start the new year, right?” He tried his best to sound enthusiastic and get a rise out of Kirk, but Kirk didn’t feel so good in his stomach.

            “Uh. What happens at the uh, MEPS?”

            “Of course. You take the ASVAB, the Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery Exam, which determines what skills you are best suited for. You also get a full physical exam along with interviews to ensure your mental and moral standards are compatible with air force standards.”

            “Uh, huh. Do they chop my hair off then?” Kirk asked, not really wanting to hear the answer to the loss of his reddish-brown shoulder length hair. Thinking at that moment it might, maybe, perhaps be the worst part of the military. He noticed Shaw’s hair for the first time. Not so bad, just a business-like haircut, not too military extreme.     

            “Oh no. That happens during basic training.” He paused for a reaction of relief. “Do you have any other questions?”

            Kirk let out a breath. “No. Not right now.”

            Technical Sergeant backed up to his desk. “Here, take my card. Feel free to call me if you need more information or have a question before your processing date.”

            Yep, Kirk carried out the deed that would definitely render him Not the Same as before...Forever!