Not the Same #2 A Day in a Life

For sure, Kirk was not the same, but now on the most eminent day, a day like he had never experienced before, had finally arrived.

 

 

Cue: “Let the Day Begin” https://youtu.be/kofU647vXsA?si=zm1R6qjvZjL9vDjk

Well, Kirk had anticipated the reactions from his parents and Sarah Elizabeth over him joining the US Air Force, but now that his personal information had been passed along through his recruiter, how will he spend his time while he waits? Of course, it’s mid-winter and he doesn’t even want to look at his partially built stock car seeing next year’s racing season had been canceled. Of course, he’s going into the US Air Force before too long, so why bother anyway?

Kirk, no doubt, endured a mix of anxiousness and excitement, but it all stemmed from his totally unknown future in the military. He hung around the old farmhouse, killing time or less, watching television or reading his old books like his biographies and science fiction like Dune and Chariots of the Gods? He began work on his new plastic model of a F-15 which he felt embodied the US Air Force’s image of power in the skies. He realized that he’d likely not be in the physical condition of recruits coming fresh out of high school. In his prime condition when he exercised for the wrestling team, he could do fifty push-ups at a time. Since then, he had gained weight and hadn’t done anything mindful to keep himself in shape. Considering his lack of physical conditioning, he found that he could only manage nineteen push-ups at a time which basically bothered him to no end. He tried running again despite the cold, snowy weather and found that he could barely jog a 5K without stopping when before he could click off a 10K without hardly breaking a sweat. Yeah, just those four years since high school could really show your age as Kirk had found.

With apt anticipation, Kirk watched for the package in the mail that the air force recruiter had promised him about the MEPS appointment he would have to attend. When it did arrive, it didn’t give many details except that he’d have to provide Social Security cards, diplomas, proof of graduations, driving licenses, and any medical information about any injuries, allergies, or diseases contended with in his life. He read that the processing would take all day or possibly two days if problems were identified, but what really caught his attention was that he had to report at the center at the ungodly hour of four AM!

 He assumed that that particular O-dark-thirty arrival may be part of the tests he’d have to take. Maybe they wanted to see if the recruits could arrive on time or if they can function at that early hour. Kirk looked forward to taking the ASVAB (Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery) exams seeing he considered himself an expert test taker in high school those years ago, though on the other hand, he didn’t want to take the test at four o’clock in the morning because that would just be downright cruel! Maybe, if they did that anyway, he figured it could just be another test on test taking with recruits’ blurry minds and eyes.

Kirk continued killing time with reading, watching TV, and finishing his F-15 model. It wasn’t lost to him that there remained little interaction between him and his father. It had always been a tedious relationship between the two of them, but Kirk had thought for years that that was how it was supposed to be between father and son. He also anticipated the additional coldness over him leaving the farm, but he wasn’t about to try and remedy the cold situation.

Meanwhile, Kirk spent most evenings with Sarah Elizabeth and at times it seemed like both of them forgot the impending separation, but at other times he caught her scrutinizing him probably trying to figure out what Kirk thought when he signed up. She thought it was her fault. Of course, he didn’t push his impending processing on her because that would only upset her further. Two evenings before his appointment, Kirk warned Sarah that he wouldn’t be over the following night because of his early morning departure. Besides the thought of going downtown at the ungodly hour and then try to function at the center just raised his anxiety a few more pegs. The next day he gathered up all the paperwork he deemed necessary for his appointment and put it in a large manila envelope.   

Nevertheless, the next evening Kirk called Sarah and they chatted a bit. She asked if he felt nervous about the next day, but he lied and said no, that he was looking forward to it. Yeah, right! He told her that he was heading to bed early because of the absurd hour he’d have to get up, namely at two-thirty AM. He told his mother the time he planned and she momentarily acted a bit shocked, but quickly recovered to ask him if she should wake him up like she had for school and work. He said no, he had his trusty alarm clock. 

So Kirk went to bed about four hours earlier than his norm of ten o-clock or so. He eyed up his F-15 model that he had completed in the past couple days and wondered about life in the US Air Force. He had put his envelope of important paperwork on the shelf in the kitchen under his van keys, so there was no way of forgetting it no matter what the condition of his waking consciousness. Van had a full tank; he had checked the map to know exactly the location of MEPS, so there was not a thing that could foul up his trip into the big city and get his military processing completed. A big fun-filled day ahead for sure.

 All along since he signed up, Kirk convinced himself that even if he joined the military, it would be different in the U.S. Air Force. At least that’s what he told himself from the bits and pieces he had accumulated in his mind.  He got out his best jeans and flannel shirt for the next morning. Disrobing and diving into his cold bed, he closed his eyes. And laid there. He thought about driving downtown at the early hour. He ruminated about Sarah and their relationship and how it’d likely end with him in the air force. He thought about Dee in the navy. He thought about the scenes of basic training in movies and on shows. NO! Not like that; he was going in the air force. He rolled over, laid on one side and then the other. He stared at the ceiling though the days of hallucinogenic visions in his bedroom had long passed. He forced his eyes closed, but it didn’t help. He looked at his clock thinking it must have been hours passed, but it had been less than an hour. He pondered about getting up and just gutting the night out, but he laid there wanting sleep to come badly. Finally, after what seemed like hours of trying, he drifted off, but just as quickly a nightmare hit him causing him to react physically and awaking him as he bounced in his bed. He looked at his luminous clock dial that showed a couple minutes after midnight. Should he read? No, he continued to lie there with all sort of ruminations swirling in his mind. He drifted off again only to be awaken by the binging of his clock. He fumbled to shut it off as he forced himself out of bed with bare feet touching the bare cold floor. No snoozing like the past couple weeks, he warned himself. The clock showed quarter after two which would allow enough time for a cup of instant coffee and his bowl of cereal. He knew it’d be a long day.

Quickly dressing and padding downstairs he was surprised to see the kitchen lit up. Walking in, he saw his mother sitting there at the table with a cup of coffee.

“Good morning, dear,” she said cooingly. “I thought you’d like some fresh coffee for your trip.”

“I would, thanks, mom,” Kirk groggily said.  He went for his cereal, a bowl, and the gallon of milk. Meanwhile, his mother had jumped up and poured him a hot mug of steaming coffee. Thanking her, Kirk held up the cup to his nose breathing in the coffee steam that seemed to go directly to his brain stem.

“Did you sleep well, Kirk?”

“Oooh,” he groaned, running his fingers through his mussed hair. “Hardly at all.” He dove into his cereal.

“Nervous about your, hmm, appointment?”

“I guess. Nothing to be nervous about. Really. I guess.” He sipped at the hot coffee with a slurp at the end and scooping up a heaping spoon of cereal. He glanced at the Felix the Cat clock which showed twenty-five after two which gave him a shock. He scarfed down the rest of his cereal and chugged his coffee that burned all the way down. He got up and grabbed his fleece-lined jean jacket. His mother rose as well. He pulled his watch cap on down over his ears.

His mother held out a baggie with a couple cookies in it. “In case you get hungry during your appointment.”

 Kirk hesitated, thinking that it wouldn’t be very manly to have cookies with him, but he turned back and took them.

“Thanks, mom. For the coffee and cookies.”

“When will you be home?”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure. It could be late in the evening. Don’t worry.”

Kirk went out the back door and into the cold, crisp winter air. The snow crunched under his boots. In the still air, he created his own wind chill. He had to look up and gaze across the dark, crystal-clear sky punctuated with a trillion stars. To him, he thought there had never been so many stars in the sky. As he walked slowly, he picked out the big dipper to the north. The wide, bright Milky Way stretched across the sky at a diagonal from horizon to horizon. He took a deep-freezing cold breath and let it out in a cloud. It hit him like a bolt that he might not endure, survive the day. What then?

Kirk opened the van door that squawked with the cold. The well-used and abused van motor cranked right up. He let it idle a couple minutes, before pulling it into gear with a bit of effort against the cold transmission oil. Flicking on his lights he headed out the driveway and turned on to the highway. He could’ve taken the back roads which is a little shorter distance, but he felt a bit concerned about patches of snow and ice out there while he figured the main roads would be clear so he could make better time. Kirk hadn’t been out this late, or early, depending on your point of view, since his days of drinking and barhopping. Devoid of vehicles of any kind, passing rural farm houses pitch dark during that hour, he had hit the road evenl before the farmers had gotten up to milk the cows. Kirk had the road all to himself. If he had his hyper-Firebird he could have ripped up the roads, though any police roaming around would have loved to stop a hot rodder on the lonely roads. No hot rodding in his future with the military.

 In about forty minutes, he drove past the dealership where he worked as the grease monkey warranty repairman, and then, a minute later, he approached the first signal-lit intersection. Ironically, he had to stop for the red. This particular intersection was where he was “test driving” a Dodge Challenger 340 and witnessed (or caused, in another point of view) the infamous ambulance accident. This is covered in detail a least twice in earlier episodes. He ventured on through the residential suburbs where signals hung over nearly every block’s intersection. The few times in his life driving the city streets, if traffic allowed you to maintain the speed limit you hit every light on green. Of course, there was no traffic which he realized when a single car approached from up ahead. Kirk thought the last time he drove deep into the city was back when Sarah and he went to the one and only concert. Poor, hard-working, devoted Farrah had missed out, but had at the same time rekindled his relationship with Sarah.

Hitting all green lights until he came up on one major intersection where several vehicles drove straight through and past. Kirk knew he’d arrive at MEPS (Military Entrance Processing Station) in plenty of time, but he harbored concerns about parking. He had memorized the streets and turns he must maneuver from the map he kept in the glove box. No turn-by-turn GPS back then. After only two turns, he slowed knowing he drew near the building with a multitude of greenish downtown street lamps illuminating the facades.

Kirk saw the reflective green military-type sign announcing his destination: a large imposing block building. He drew in a deep breath as he stopped for pedestrians crossing the street including a couple military people Marine and US Army, he discerned. His brain went right to the possibility that they could, might make a mistake and put him in one of those other branches. He shivered despite the van’s healthy heater blasting sufficient heat. He saw the parking sign, pulled in and parked with a plentitude of spaces open. He considered at that early hour most of the other offices were unoccupied.

Kirk sat there a minute and watched. Walking by, a young man, a kid in Kirk’s point of view, headed toward the MEPS building. Kirk smiled cogitating that the older man and woman flanking him were probably his parents and he was underage to join the military. How embarrassing to go with your parents! Kirk got out of his van slamming the door shut while not looking back only forward. A couple clean-cut athletic looking guys horsed around heading the same direction as everyone else. Kirk surmised they were probably high school pals who enlisted together. Probably future Marines. The cold damp wind blew at Kirk as he postulated what might befall him at that early hour in these totally unusual circumstances in his not so wide-spanning experience. He noticed the sign announced that the building also housed the New York Army Reserve. Stepping in through the door and the foyer a woman sat behind a counter that announced the MEPS sign in. Only a couple guys and a girl waited to sign in. Kirk’s heart bumped hard while gripping his paperwork in an iron grip, while trying to act nonchalant, so he bravely eyed the floor, walls and ceiling. 

Finally on his turn, he drew up to the counter trying to put on a fearless or unemotional face.

“Your name? And an ID,” the all-business woman asked. Kirk noticed her name tag: Gladys Stans.

“Yes, ah, mmm,” Kirk seemed to momentarily forget his name. “Kirk Biscuit.”

She checked her list. “Middle initial? And proof of identity.”

“Oh sure. Middle initial is X and is my driver’s license good?” Feeling stupid at that moment, he saw posted on the wall that a driver’s license can be used as ID. He pulled it out. She took it from him and wrote his information down.

“Okay. Mister Biscuit. Your other paperwork?” He handed it to her. She peeled off a sticker from a long sheet that he saw had his name on it. She stuck it on another big envelope and crammed his envelope inside it. “Wait in this area until you’re called in through that door over there.” She pointed.

Kirk nodded, swallowing hard as he stepped away. He realized that he felt completely out of his comfort zone and his life had become not his own. He knew that the military took the individuality out of a person, but he thought he felt it even though he hadn’t been exposed to anything imposing yet. So he waited around glancing at the clock quite often as military people and civilians walked through.

          Then, catching him by surprise a Marine sergeant stepped out. “All recruits come with me.”

Kirk took in the sergeant’s severe “high and tight” haircut, his immaculate uniform, and tall stiff demeanor. Kirk decided that he was glad he wasn’t going in the Marines. The recruits, with Kirk nearly bringing up the rear, walked in through the double doors. Kirk looked back and saw the underage recruit getting a goodbye kiss from his teary mother.  Kirk had to smile to himself despite his own anxiousness boggling his chain of thought. The marine led the small group of ten to what appeared like a classroom. Kirk wasn’t all that happy to be taking exams first thing at O-Dark Thirty. He followed suit of the other recruits, finding a desk midway and sitting down. He yawned and rubbed his eyes. After all Kirk’s fellow recruits sat and seemed situated, the marine addressed them strictly to the point.

“Good morning, recruits. I am Gunnery Sergeant Brown and I’ll be proctoring your ASVAB exams.” Kirk was surprised the sergeant didn’t address them as the “scum of the earth” or “sorry maggots” or some other demeaning titles like he had seen given by drill sergeants to recruits in the movies. “Listen up. The ASVAB has two important functions, one is to determine your eligibility to enlist in one of the military branches called the AFQT or Armed Forces Qualification Test, the other part is the battery of ten areas to ascertain your vocational skills in the many areas utilized in the military. In total, you’ll have three hours in one-hour segments to complete all of the exams.” He scanned the recruits. “Any questions?” He paused. “All right, when I call your name come up and get your first exam. Do not open them until everyone has their copy. Alexanderwicz…” 

Was the first name followed by Kirk who was mildly surprised that the exam wasn’t all that thick, but of course there were several sections to the exam. After everyone got their exams and Sergeant Brown went over how to mark the answers with a reminder not to get stuck on any one question. He passed out #2 pencils and made sure everyone understood that if they changed an answer, they must erase it fully because two marks would be scored as no answer.

Sgt Brown scanned the concerned faces turned up to him.

“Are there any questions?” No one said a word; you could hear a pin drop. “All right recruits, you may begin.”

 They began with a rippling of the exams opening up. Kirk felt glad that the questions were multiple choice because he had learned long ago that for any question two answers can be eliminated right away and the other two are the possible right answer. Kirk believed he was “lucky” in choosing the right one of the two when he didn’t have a clue to the answer.

The first section happened to be word knowledge which wasn’t Kirk’s strong suit, but that’s the way it went. The questions provided words and Kirk had to pick the correct meaning of each or closely related terms to the words. They’d sneak in some sentences with highlighted words that required a correct definition. Kirk with his knowledge of test taking knew not to stall out and ponder a question too long, but he also knew not to leave any question unanswered so he wouldn’t leave it to the end and perhaps run out of time to ponder it again.

The second section was paragraph comprehension which wasn’t completely different from the first also fitting into the English category. This provided long sentences or short paragraphs with the test taker decerning the meaning of the sentences, basically showing understanding the gist of the passage. Kirk had difficulty when he had encountered these back in high school and being a few years removed from the academic, he had to reread a couple of the passages. His anxiousness rose when he had to do this thinking he burned too much time, nevertheless, he pressed on. 

After a short break, they began the next sections, the first being arithmetic reasoning. Kirk inwardly groaned as these questions were word problems where the recruits had to work arithmetic numbers based on the limited information provided in short paragraphs. A lot of the questions focused on percentages, ratios, and fractions.

Next came the mathematic knowledge section. This ended up being somewhat similar to the previous section with some simple problems, algebra equations, square roots, volumes of various diagrams and again use of ratios and fractions. Kirk sweated, his brain overloaded. When finished, he glanced around at his fellow enlistees and saw a lot of fidgeting, gazing off in deep thought or even one or two expressions of impending doom.

So far, Kirk finished each section with a little time to spare. In each of the four sections, he went back over the exam scanning the questions and the answers he provided, but like some of the other rules of test taking, he didn’t change or even consider changing his answers. What’s good enough at first look… 

Then they started the vocational evaluation exams beginning with the electronics section. Kirk had learned a basic understanding of electricity that applied to auto mechanics knowing what volts, amps, and watts were and knew how to measure them with the proper instruments. Way back in grammar school he had made a simple crystal radio so he knew about diodes and wavelengths and the like. With a “begin exam” from Sgt Brown, Kirk dove in. The questions, of course being short with the likewise answers he thought he might be able to do all right in the section, but some them became well beyond his limited comprehension when it came to calculating currents and resistance. He did his best.

Kirk licked his lips in anticipation knowing this section loomed sooner or later for the next three areas being right up his alley:  Automotive, Shop, and Mechanical Comprehension. He breezed through the first knowing all the engine, parts, and function details the questions asked. Shop went well though some of the tools and functions were beyond his scope of experience and the last required some minor calculations with applied force, ratio, gearing, and so on.

The next sections asked questions concerning administration duties and security/justice details. Kirk didn’t know many of the answers, but the ones he happened to understand, he answered incorrectly. No reason to take a chance with ending up in one of those fields!

The final section happened to be Kirk’s surprise favorite and the one that stuck with him afterward entitled Assembling Objects. Jumping into it at first look, Kirk became nervous because he had no idea of what to expect, but after a couple queries he began to really enjoy it. It having certain graphic representations of how shapes fit together or the next in a sequence, but what Kirk loved and shone on were the pictures of 3D objects that must be matched with their disassembled 2D pictures and vice-verses. He smiled to himself with the ease he figured them out. When done, he wondered if this section equated to some skill in the air force like he’d be proficient as a RADAR operator or something of the sort. That last section left him feeling warm and confident, but looking around at the faces of the others he saw looks of worry and puzzlement.

Sgt Brown collected their exams and placed them into individual envelopes. He informed the group that there was a cafeteria in the basement and their meals were all free and that they had forty-five minutes to eat before reconvening in the lobby. After sitting those couple minutes after being done with the exams, Kirk felt famished. Wandering down to the cafeteria, he saw how late it already was.

After lunch, they all moseyed back to the lobby and he paced about waiting for the next evaluation whatever it might be.

Eventually, though right on time, a male doctor emerged from another door and told all the male enlistees to come with him. 

He added, “Female recruits, please wait a few moments and someone will be out for you, what, two of you?”  The two young women gestured the affirmative.

So, following “doc” into a room off the hallway, the room being nearly devoid except for a couple wooden benches and lockers along one wall reminiscent of his sports locker rooms in high school. What Kirk would encounter for the first time exposed him to the military motto of “hurry up and wait.” 

“All right men, strip down to your underwear. I will perform a visual examination to correlate the information you provided. Line up alphabetically as I call your names.”  Kirk didn’t feel too exposed or too personal seeing he had to swim nude in high school.

As Kirk stripped down, he noticed the scrawny underage kid stalling out while looking around obviously embarrassed.

“Okay, let’s get you lined up alphabetically. First, Alexanderwicz, then Biscuit,” someone snickered, one of the pals Kirk thought, and he glowered in that direction. “Connors up next…” Kirk only wondered what would transpire.  “First in line come this way.” Kirk felt glad he wasn’t first.

First, the doc measured and took down Kirk’s height and weight, then doc inspected him asking if he had any identifying scars or birthmarks. Kirk told him no. He was asked to touch his toes with the doc feeling his backbone then asking if he had foot problems. Kirk said no. After that he was sent through another door and he waited. Eventually, a woman doctor of sorts checked his feet, tapped his knees with a little rubber hammer making his leg jump and checked his joints by moving his range of motion on various joints. She checked his sheet. She took his left hand working his fingers especially his little finger.

“Make a fist for me.” He did so. “You broke that finger, right?”

“Yes,” Kir said to the floor hoping it wouldn’t be a problem.

“Seems to have healed just fine.”

Kirk nodded, thinking he was glad not to put down about his smashed toe. Now that could have been a problem for the military. He waited dome more.

Next, a doctor checked his eyes, nose, mouth, and ears. They had him identify letters on the eye chart which proved Kirk had better than 20/20 eyesight, actually being 20/15 in both eyes. He held fingers out to the side of Kirk’s face while instructing Kirk to remain focused straight ahead. The examiner told Kirk he had excellent peripheral vision which he already knew. The doctor made a couple notes, but then pulled out a small plastic bound book and flipped it open. Kirk had seen this book before with pages of large circles filled with different colored dots on every page. As the doctor flipped, Kirk recited what numbers he saw or didn’t see.

“Did you know that you color blind?” The doctor asked.

Kirk said, “yes, I knew already in grammar school, actually. In red/green. I reported it in my application.” Kirk pointed to his envelope. The doctor flipped through Kirk’s paperwork. “Will that eliminate me from certain skills?” 

“Yes, most definitely, but I’m not the one who’d determine that. Are you on the job reservation list?”

“No, I’m what they call, I guess, an open candidate.”

“I see. They’ll make that job determination in basic training. Move along.”

Kirk was told to sit and wait. Again. Kirk now identified that he was in the midst of an assembly line of impersonal prods, pokes, and peers for all the medical examiners remained business-like. Kirk figured that they must do the whole routine rather regularly. Alexanderwicz was in front of him and Connors followed behind. At the next station, he heard a treadmill with rapid steps on it.

When he was up, the medical person there had Kirk sit while they checked the sound of heart, breathing and digestive sounds. Kirk noticed a machine with graph paper on a roll with a pen resting on the bottom against the paper like he had seen a seismograph. Maybe they checked to see if he had swallowed any Acme Earthquake Pills, ha! The person then took several wire leads and stuck them on various places on his chest. The sticky stuff pulled and itched. They wrote on the graph paper and had Kirk begin walking and then after a minute or so, started jogging and finally run for several minutes with the doctor checking his pulse off and on. Without really getting too winded, he could finally slow down and stop. Doctor examined the paper uttering a non-verbal comment with whatever he saw. Kirk wasn’t told at this pre-entry examination that they had identified that he had a congenital heart defect. Moving along to a cubical with curtains, Kirk had to wait again with no idea what would come next. He felt quite chilly being in the state of undress and being physically inactive after cooling from his treadmill run.

 You might say the next examination was mighty personal and had toe touching involved. Finally, in the last area they drew blood and gave him a little bottle. Not familiar with this procedure, Kirk looked at the bottle and seeing his name on the label, he looked at the examiner.

 She said, pointing, “Rest room is right there. You don’t have to fill it all the way up but half full would be beneficial to the analyst. Kirk did as he was told and brought the warm, yellow-filled bottle back.

“Thank you, Mister Biscuit. You can return to the locker room and dress. A person there will direct you to the next station.”  She pointed to another door behind him.

Kirk felt a bit conspicuous walking out and down the hallway in just his underwear, thinking that maybe they were playing a joke on him. There were a few civilian men and women walking the corridor, but they paid no attention to the nearly naked twenty-some year-old strolling along with plenty of skin exposed. He finally recognized the locker room door where they had first entered. He stepped lively into the room. Only the one guy that had started before him was there with a woman sitting on a chair reading a book. Kirk noticed the sun was out and high now, so quite a few hours had passed, but he was cold and would be glad to get his clothes on.

“Where do I go now?” the guy asked the woman.

 “You can go have lunch now, it’s a little late, actually. There’s a cafeteria on the first floor. To let everyone in your group finish, you just wait until five PM and they’ll call you in for your next exam.”

Kirk looked at the clock realizing that it was well into the afternoon. He’d been through a lot already wondering what else would befall him. When they reconvened, Kirk noticed that their group had shrunk by missing two guys. The apprehensive underage teenager and one of the “pals” he had espied earlier. The remaining pal looked less jovial and self-assured than before when his buddy was with him. Maybe the military won’t be so much fun without your cohort, Kirk thought.

“Alexanderwicz. Head back down the hallway to room 110 on the right. You’re the first so you can go right inside.” She looked at the clock and noted it. “You,” she pointed at Kirk. “Will have to wait until I release you to the same location.”

“Okay,” Kirk said, pulling on his jeans.

Finally, after sitting on the bench which seemed like quite a long time, the woman said, “you can go now. Remember which room?”

“Yep, Room 110.”

“Knock before entering.”

“Okay.” Kirk said, going through the door.

Kirk went down the hallway that he now noticed looked quite old with dark stained wood and frosted glass in the doors’ windows. He stopped in front of door number 110. He had no idea what he was in for, an interview? His preferences for a skill? AFSC, he remembered. He shrugged to himself and knocked once hard.

“Enter!” Came a loud male voice.

Kirk entered and saw a man in a suit sitting in a thick leather upholstered chair set angled off from another like chair in front of a gray steel desk. Sunlight streamed into the room that made Kirk a bit more contented.

“Please have a seat. Make yourself comfortable,” the man said. Kirk sat uncomfortably. “I’m Doctor Staker. And what is your name?” The man asked looking at his clipboard.

“Kirk Biscuit.”

“Ah yes, I have you here,” he flipped over a couple sheets. Kirk wondered what would come next. “I’m going to ask you some questions about how you feel. Just answer honestly to how you feel about the questions. There are no right or wrong answers just your own personal answers. These can help the military assess how you might handle certain jobs, situations or conditions. Okay?”

Kirk took a moment before saying, “Okay, sure.”

“All right, Mister Biscuit. Can I call you Kirk?”

“Yes, sure.” Kirk felt himself fidget and wondered if the man picked up on it

“Do you believe that you can handle any situation you might ever face.”

Kirk could see how the air force would want to know this. “Yes, I usually can.”

“You say usually. Have you had times that a situation affected you so severely that you couldn’t face it?”

“No. I maybe shouldn’t have worded it the way I did. I never backed away from a challenge or situation.” His quitting the brutal football practice as a freshman flashed into his mind.

“Good. Good. If you are upset about something in your life, do you obsess over it?”

“No. Well, I lost my girlfriend after high school and I thought about her all the time. Ahhh, I have to say I obsessed over losing her.”  

“I understand that. How about more mundane things like not scoring badly on a test or missing out on a party? Do you worry about it for a while”

Kirk felt his shoulders shrug. “No, not at all.”

“If you make a mistake, do you intensely focus on it or move on to something else.”

“Definitely move on�"get my mind off it.”

“Do you find yourself flipping from a happy mood to sadness?”

“Uh, uh,” he said shaking his head.

“Please. Yes or no?”

“No, no.”

Lately have you been really sad, angry or frustrated over things in your life?”

“No.”

“Have you ruminated on negative, possibly destructive thoughts?”

“Not at all.”

“What makes you happy and calm?’

“Hmmm. Usually, I mean getting busy with my hands. You know work or hobby, things like that.”

“Great answer! Do you recognize personal triggers that affect your emotions?”

“No, not really that I can think of.”

“Were you ever depressed for an extended period of time and considered suicide?”

Kirk felt like an electric shock went through him with the question. “Yes, I have.”

The doctor sat a little straighter with eyes on Kirk instead of his pad. “Lately?”

“No.”

“What put you in this state of mind?’

“After high school. Lost my girlfriend. Didn’t have any friends when I left for college.” Kirk caught what he said thinking it was too negative for this interviewer. “But in college, I found new friends, girlfriends and study, you know? I moved on.”

“Of course, I understand fully.”

“How do you feel under pressure? Nervous? Calm?”

Kirk thought a second. “Focused. Intense.”

“I see. How about a crisis. Have you been subject to a real-world crisis?”

“Can’t say�"wait! I crashed my stock car on the first day of practice racing. I had worked all summer on the car.”

“You hurt?”

“No, not at all.”

“How’d you react to your crash.”

“I tossed my helmet and walked slowly away.”

“Sad, mad?”

“No, I just felt�"empty.”

“Mmm, I see.”

“Did you experience a death of a loved one? How’d you feel? Did it set you back, make you think about life being precarious?”

“I took it well. Didn’t bother me much and I carried on.”  

“Can you handle criticism without getting angry?

“Yes, I think so.”

“You’re not sure? How about if I tell you that your answers might negatively affect your enlistment.”

“Well,” Kirk thought a moment: Is he trying to make me angry? “I might feel angry inside, but I don’t show it and get over it.”

“How about unexpected stress. Do you freeze up, unable to face whatever is stressing you?”

“I can’t say I’ve had anything that stressed me in a way to freeze up as you said.”

“How about authority? Can you handle orders you may not agree with?”

Kirk knew what he was doing here. He shrugged. “I’ve had bosses that have given me tasks that I didn’t especially enjoy, but I did them anyway.”

“Okay, good. How about uncertainty in your life, like the big change in your life by joining the military for instance.”

“Oh, I guess nervous, excited, but I’ll face it head on like everything else.”

“Of course. How do you handle things that go wrong and totally out of the blue�"unplanned, unexpected in your life. You said a while back you were depressed when you lost your girlfriend. Did you mean she died?

“No, no. She just started dating other guys, so I broke up with her even though I cared for her�"a lot.”

“Understandable, then?”

“Yes.”

“Do you take drugs?”

Kirk’s head swiveled with the question and immediately smoking grass in college came to mind because he thought ahead of time they’d ask. “No, never,” he lied.

“Good. Because the investigators would find out if you had.”

Kirk swallowed hard wondering if he had turned pink, but the interviewer didn’t look at him.

“Are you embarrassed easily? Like in an uncomfortable situation for instance when you stripped down for the physical. Did you feel uneasy?”

“No, not at all. I was in sports and in that sort of situation.”

“Okay, good. Lastly, why did you volunteer to join the military?”

“I blame the economy. I was laid off, but I raced stock cars and they canceled races for next year, so I just thought I’d move on with a totally different job and life. I guess. “

“I get the economy and loss of a job all the time here. Well,” he paused and looked squarely at Kirk for the first time, at least that’s what Kirk thought. “I never interviewed an ex-racer but I understand losing a hobby or sport you were absorbed in because sometimes young men feel lost without their chosen sport.” The doctor stood and extended his soft hand unfettered by manual labor. Kirk stood as well and shook.  “Nice meeting you Kirk.” He glanced at the clock

“Thank you, sir. I hope I did well here.”

“Fine, fine. I hope you do well in the military and it seems to me you have the correct mindset for it. Head to the lobby and they’ll direct you from there.”

“Good, thanks.” Kirk spun on his heel and headed out of the office. In the hallway, he stopped and took a deep breath thinking that the experience seemed awfully intense, though he thought he did well enough. As he walked, he noticed it was dark outside and wondered what he was in for now.

Being rather late in the evening, the lobby seemed quiet with only a different woman sitting at the sign in desk. He glanced around and didn’t see any of his fellow recruits. He stepped up to the counter.

“Ahh, I’m Kirk Biscuit and supposed to ask what I need to do from here.”

“Sure, Mister Biscuit, I have your paperwork right here.” She handed it to him. “Do not go anywhere, stay here. You need to talk to a caseworker, okay?”

“Got it, thanks.” He wandered over to a bench and sat down. A few minutes passed before someone called his name. An older man waited for him and stuck his hand out that Kirk took.

“Congratulations, Mister Kirk. It seemed everything went smoothly for you today.”

“Sounds good.”

“Come with me and I’ll explain everything.” And the two went to an office right next to the lobby. “Have a seat.” Kirk offered his envelope, but the man gestured, turning it down. “Like I said, your preliminary information and exams went smoothly with no hitches or discrepancies. We copied the paperwork you provided and the investigators will look into and contact the references you provided. Impressive to say the least.”

“Thanks.”

“From what I see here, ah, you have no physical abnormalities that have to examined further which means you won’t be spending the night. A good thing, right.” Kirk nodded. “Let’s see, mmm, mmm your psychiatric evaluation looks good as well.” He smiled. “We do like our enlistees to be stable in ah, which branch?”

“Air force.”

“Right. That’s about it then.”

“Will they mail me the results of the exams or do they not send them out?”

“Oh, of course, they should have informed you. They will give your results to ahhhh, Technical Sergeant Kelly. Correct?”

“Correct.”

“Well then,” the unnamed man said as he stood. “Again, congratulations, it looks like you’re a consummate recruit and will make a fine airman.”

“Thank you, sir.” Kirk said shaking the man’s hand. “Can I go then…” He asked tentatively.

“Of course, you’re done. If you’re hungry and so desire you can get something to eat in the cafeteria, free of course.
          Kirk not believing how late in the evening it became rubbed his eyes and yawned finishing up how he felt when he started the day, but he felt different through and through. Happy, content. Hungry.

He decided to go down to the cafeteria rather than hitting the streets and paying for fast food. Only one person worked and they told Kirk that at the later hour they didn’t have much selection. They suggested hot roast beef on a kummelweck bun. Kirk thought it sound scrumptious in his overdue dinner condition.

Afterwards, he was no longer hungry, but he still considered himself happy and content. He felt the whole day indoctrinated him and he knew more about himself than before. Nevertheless, as Kirk headed out to his van, after fifteen hours of getting processed, he realized that he definitely was not the same as he had been at that early hour of four AM…