Not the Same #10 The Ups and Downs

Immersed in the depths of Air Force Basic Training, Kirk had so much to occupy his mind and body every second of every day.

 

Cue: “I’m so Tired” https://youtu.be/7cqHtGb9WYM?si=9rYuxoFdqxtouO3g

 

Heading into the second half of Air Force Basic Training, Kirk had changed throughout the first half mentally, physically, and emotionally. All the trainees looked toward the end of the training, keeping the hope that they’d make it through without a setback or wash back, but it remained hard to focus on how that end, that finish would feel like with all the factors they had to deal with, to work on and learn every single busy, stressful day.

 He didn’t make friends in Flight 293 seeing that wasn’t in his DNA and besides he was a few years older than the other trainees. Did that matter? Kirk thought so. Of course, in consideration, there remained no free time for social interactions between the trainees. He quickly adapted, like on the second day, to the early mornings to late evening days. He absorbed all the lessons and demonstrations and duties as well as he possibly could. He handled the physical training just fine, he considering it one of the easier elements of basic training.

Before entry into the Air Force, he needed to find a job due the dire economy of 1975, but he didn’t know truly what he headed into when he signed up. Before immersion, every day with a free moment for his mind to wander, he had to wonder what job, skill or Air Force Specialty Code he would be assigned. Early on, no information about their future AFSCs was related to the trainees, but one thing they all knew was that Technical Schools elsewhere around the United States awaited them after basic training. Some of Kirk’s fellow trainees groaned with the thought that they’d be inserted into another period of intense training though mostly learning the skill/AFSC they ended up. Apparently, but not confirmed, Tech School would be a gentler, kinder sort of atmosphere compared to Basic Training. But first things first: Don’t get washed back, recycled, just finish basic!

Back when he had to go and get prodded and poked and examined pre-basic training, the recruits had to pee in a bottle. They had to do that twice during basic training for Operation Golden Flow which had begun with the returnees from Viet Nam using the urinalysis to check for drug use. Kirk hoped his one joint from college four years prior didn’t show up in his test. HA!

 Now, along with all his fellow trainees now appeared like the comic book “Sad Sacks” of lean, mean military guys in their olive-green fatigues. Once in a while, Flight 293 was allowed to invade the BX for any personal supplies they might need even though in reality they couldn’t have many items besides their issued stuff and other types of grooming supplies. Kirk thought it bit bizarre that the smokers, and there were plenty in his flight, had to purchase ankle holsters to carry their smoking supplies. The reason? The TI made it perfectly clear that nothing could be in their breast pockets except for their training guidebooks. 

The one thing that struck terror in Kirk’s heart and perhaps others, but no one said aloud, was the assignment of CQ duty, that it, Charge of Quarters or “Dorm Guard.” When assigned, they performed six-hour stints as the trainee responsible for their barracks or quarters as it were. Informed of their responsibilities, they were to control entry to their sleeping/living area. If anyone came to the door, and it sounded there would usually be someone who challenged the guard trying to get them to open the door without proper authorization. Kirk thought this was more befitting future Security Police Airmen or other types of security jobs, certainly not one he hoped to be entered into. So, besides the controlled entry duty they would report any trainee’s sickness or problems or if a trainee came up missing (AWOL?) in bed checks, report a fire or other building problem, and to check and replenish latrine supplies. Kirk trembled in his chukka boots just being told about the duty. How much additional stress and pressure could a farm boy/man take?  

Well, quite a bit when they got deep into the Uniform Code of Military Justice (UCMJ). Holy smokes! Kirk thought, what did I sign up for? The UCMJ military law forms the basis of uniformed personnel regulations that they must follow as federal laws. In depth they covered the punitive articles about disobeying lawful orders (don’t do it!), AWOL (don’t run off), don’t disrespect superiors (ever), the country or the flag; but then Article 15s came up. This covers non-judicial punishment that military personnel are subject to at all times which give commanders the authority to impose punishment for minor offenses, punishments that include rank reductions (busted), fines or pay forfeiture, restrictions, and additional duties.  Besides all that, a more serious court martial could get you thrown in the Klink (confinement) and/or dishonorable discharge. All this just boiled down to that now in the Air Force, Kirk needed to behave himself!  

Besides their earlier postcard, Kirk and the other trainees got their two-minute phone call just to touch base with family back home and assure parents that they remained all right. In some cases, a trainee would break down emotionally with the contact, but they got over it with a bit of TI intervention.

Kirk decided to call the old farmhouse, and of course got his mother.

“Mom! Hey! It’s Kirk from basic training!”

“Kirk, honey. How are you? I got your letters.”

“Oh good. I’m okay taking the training all in stride. Yeah, it’s tough, but we all take it one day at a time. Our Training Instructor is strict but he’s fair.”

“Ah, ha, so, are you learning a lot?”

“Yeah, yeah, stuff I’d never imagine before, but I don’t have much time here to explain it.”

“Honey, when are you coming home?”

“I don’t know. We can get some leave time after basic, but I don’t know�"can’t say for sure. ‘Bye mom. Tell Sarah I called because I can’t make two calls. G’bye”

“I will. Thanks for calling. You sound good. Good bye, honey.
          Kirk hung up knowing that his mother was getting emotional. He ran his olive-green fatigue sleeve across his eyes, but he headed right back to his group of trainees feinting unaffected.

After the few weeks of marching, relatively simply, Flight 293 were introduced to more complex movements namely flank, column and incline movements. During a session on a rainy day, the TI had them working on the patio under the overhang of the dorm (barracks.) As they worked flanking movements, right and left, Kirk began getting used to a pattern of “Right Flank, March” commands which had them change direction ninety-degrees while in motion. Well, Kirk’s mind wandered off from the TIs actual commands and missed the change in pattern to “Left Flank, March!” Everyone in flight made the turn in unison except for Kirk.

“BISCUIT, A*S! Get your head out.” Came the TI’s shout.

Kirk bumped into a trainee in front of him, then into another to the right of him before he could get back into his spot and in step. He paid closer attention after being called out by name, the one thing he didn’t need or want from the very beginning. He expected to get AF Form 341 pulled from him for his screwup, but he didn’t. 

Even though no one thought they needed a haircut after getting sheared short a couple weeks prior, they got another one to cut down the stubble that had grown. They’d been taught about grooming standards like that their hair couldn’t touch their ears or collar with a tapered haircut when it might grow long enough, along with mustache and sideburn regulations even though there in basic they were not allowed to wear them at all.

Throughout basic training, mail call became a daily treat and a morale booster for most of the guys (Newsome a exception) and Kirk received a letter or card from Sarah Elizabeth almost every day. One day he got one from her that proved especially special. It didn’t seem very long after he had sent her that 3704 BMTS T-shirt; Sarah sent him a picture of her smiling big wearing the T-shirt. He proudly showed off the picture to some of they guys around him. They thought she looked comely and faithful to Kirk for sending it while he went through basic away from her. Just one emotion-boosting highlight in his busy training day.

On an early scheduled day, Kirk had a quick one-on-one with what might be called a career counselor. They discussed Kirk’s job “dream sheet” concerning the Air Force Specialty Codes he had selected when he signed up at the recruiter’s office. Most of them involved the elite enlisted force, the so-called “point of the spear” you might say with jobs related with working on or flying in Air Force jets. The counselor scanned through these along with Kirk’s education, specifically his mechanical training. He nodded, saying that his mechanical background could assist him in easily adapting to working on Air Force aircraft. Kirk liked the sound of that, keeping his hopes high for one of those jobs he had selected. The counselor asked if Kirk had any change of mind on those on his list since being in basic training. Kirk couldn’t think of anything he’d rather do. The counselor said they would continue to try and fulfill Kirk’s wishes balanced with Air Force demands and specific personnel requirements.  

As the second half of Kirk’s basic training progressed, they progressed into more intense training and one area was Combat Arms Training and Maintenance (CATM). This ended up being much more than the trainees grabbing a M16 and start firing away at the shooting range. In-depth lessons went into safety, handling, disassembly, maintenance, and reassembly of the weapon. Kirk had a very limited experience with rifles having a 22 rifle back on the farm, but he didn’t think the experience would help him at all. As they dove deeper into the M16, they got hands-on classroom time to take the rifle apart, clean it, and reassemble it and hopefully it would function afterwards which in many cases for the trainees, it didn’t. They practiced the firing positions that were prone, sitting with elbows on knees, kneeling on one knee, and standing.

Finally, with nerves mounting, they got out to the firing range. Strict rules were given, restated, and enforced to the maximum such as always keeping your gun pointed down range and checking and rechecking your gun had the safety on when not in firing position. The trainees adjusted their gun sights with a few rounds, and they fired in the different positions and distances, reloading the clips in-between and sweeping up the spent shells. Kirk lost count of how many rounds they shot in total, but they definitely got plenty of practice. After a couple sessions they advanced to qualification.

Kirk felt confident that he could qualify, so he set his sights (ha) on making small arms expert meaning that he would have to hit the mark with almost every shot. If he did, he’d receive his first ribbon to put on his dress blues which would be very cool, he thought. Of course, Kirk’s nerves turned up a notch because the pressure was on and each series of shots had to be completed within a set time and not giving the trainees all day to shoot off twenty-four shots. Well, after the gun smoke cleared, Kirk examined his targets and by his count, he made marksman! The TI at the range, identified each shot with a red X and then added them up. Kirk really thought one marked shot was actually two, which would qualify him for marksman and when he questioned the TI about it, the number remained the same. All in all, Kirk didn’t push the issue but missed expert marksman by that one shot. Well, anyway, he qualified. They moved on to more battlefield training.

The first aid training focused on Self-Aid and Buddy Care, which is that sort of medical knowledge a soldier or airman would need on the battlefield. Basically, the assistance focused on triage techniques, injury assessment and treatment, and the movement of the injured to safety. They learned to temporarily splint a broken limb with whatever the rescuer could find, how to staunch a bleeding wound with direct pressure, tourniquets, or cauterization, airway care on someone with a collapsed lung, and of course, how to carry a buddy to safety. Like everything else, in practice the trainees had to formulate a decision and act in an immediate and appropriate fashion.

When it became nervous Kirk’s turn, one of his fellow trainees, he was told had a severe bleeding wound on his arm and a broken leg. Kirk addressed the wound first by applying pressure, but was told by the TI that it wasn’t enough, so Kirk went ahead to apply a tourniquet. With the TI watching, who told Kirk not to apply too much pressure on the healthy victim. He secured the tourniquet with duct tape.  Checking his victim, Kirk was told the lower leg was broken. Checking the “victims” leg, he squeezed as told to simulate identifying and putting the bone back in place. The fake victim yelled in fake pain, eliciting chuckles from the other trainees. Kirk found, in a pile of possibilities, narrow, light-weight boards, and a t-shirt. He ripped the t-shirt into strips. He put the broken leg between the two boards and wrapped and secured it with the four strips of cloth. He looked for the TI for more instructions who said nothing. From behind, Kirk grabbed the victim under the armpits and eased him to his feet. Then, facing him, he placed his knee between the other’s legs and wrapped the uninjured arm around his neck grasping the arm, Kirk then lifted him using his legs while draping the victim across his shoulders. He walked several steps with his “injured buddy” until the TI gave him a stop and a pass.   

One responsibility that terrified Kirk ahead of time to no end remained Charge or Quarters (CQ) or by the new Air Force term, Dorm Guard duty, which he knew he’d eventually be called on to perform. Yeah, his nerves skyrocketed just when he found out.  

Kirk got the evening shift and nervously donned his uniform for the Dorm Guard duty. As a guard, he relieved the previous guard and signed in with the time officially taking over. As he started in, he took the clipboard which outlined all their duties. He began by inspecting the latrine making sure there were no water leaks in every stall and all supplies were full. Moving on to the main sleeping area, he counted to make sure all beds were occupied and that they were, in fact, live trainees occupying them. He glanced longingly at his own bunk, craving his well-deserved sleep after an already long day before the extra duty. Kirk checked electrical outlets to ensure none felt hot or smelled like smoke that could erupt into a fire. He returned to the main entry door and made security checks within the TI office before returning to the entry area. After the several hours, on his final hour that ended at one AM, he anticipated the traumatic inevitable. He nervously stood guard. Listening. Watching. Looking at his Basic Training Guidebook, the only allowable reading material allowed during CQ, but of course, they were required to carry it at all times. He looked at his guidebook, but he wasn’t reading, comprehending what he looked at.  

About fifteen minutes before he got relieved from guard duty, Kirk heard footfalls on the concrete steps up to their dorm. He saw a shadow in the light outside the door that put him higher on edge.

“KNOCK!”

Adrenaline rushed to his head putting his rational thoughts in a buzz.

“Sir! Flight 293 dorm guard, may I help you?” Kirk asked, his voice cracking.

“Dorm guard, let me enter!” The voice demanded, but Kirk couldn’t make him out.

“Sir, may I see your military ID or authorization for entry?”

“Are you kidding me, dorm guard? I’m an Air Force officer and demand entry! Now! Let me enter.”

Kirk couldn’t make out the so-called officer’s face, but he saw brass lieutenant bars on his uniform’s collar. Kirk gulped knowing it was a trick to trip him up which perhaps made his anxiety even worse.

“Sir!” Which came out two-tone, two-syllables with his voice cracking worse. “May I, ahh, May I see your, um, your military ID or authorization for entry?”

“You! Trainee! Are going to be in deep trouble if you do not let an Air Force Officer entry to an area.”

“Sir. Ahhh, ah, Sir. I cannot allow you entry without seeing your military ID or authorization for entry.” His voice squeaking. 

“I’m going to bring you up for charges because I am ordering you to open this door right now!”

“Sir! May I see your Military ID or authorization for entry?” Kirk gained a bit of composure despite his voice creaking.

“ALL RIGHT! But I’m taking your name and have you thrown into the brig and out of this man’s Air Force.”

By now, Kirk’s vision had narrowed and blurred with the tension. The officer held up his ID, holding it up against the glass, but Kirk couldn’t see the officer’s face. He scanned the ID, but didn’t comprehend a single thing at that moment. He unlocked the door. The lieutenant stepped inside and showed Kirk the ID card.

“Dorm guard! You should have recognized that the fake ID didn’t match me. Give me a 341.”

Kirk standing at attention now, with a slightly clearer but muddled head, reached into his pocket with a trembly hand and drew out a 341, handing it to the officer.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Kirk whimpered

“Don’t be sorry, airman. Stick to the rules. Make darn sure you know who you see to authorize someone to enter. In the real world, you could have let in a spy or terrorist trying to take down your whole flight and you, airman, would be personally responsible. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Kirk said sheepishly.

“This time your mistake was only a 341, but learn and do it right in the real world to protect your fellow airmen.”

“Yes, sir.”

With that the officer departed and Kirk secured the door, but his hand still trembled as he did so. This was the only 341 Kirk would receive in basic training.

One requirement that proved stressful for Kirk though not as bad as CQ Duty, was the practice on how to report to an officer in charge. When his turn came up, he walked to the TI’s officer door and gave it one hard knock.

After a moment, “Enter.”

Kirk marched to in front of the desk, occupied by his TI, came to the best postured attention he could muster, and snapped up a salute that did not exactly land on his eyebrow, but he adjusted slightly so it was correct and held it.

After a pregnant moment and a deep breath, Kirk spewed out, “Sir, Airman Biscuit reports as ordered.”

The TI did not look up or say anything as Kirk stood there, with his saluting hand trembling pressing into his eyebrow. After a couple more moments, the TI looked up and returned the salute, so Kirk dropped his hand. Just as they had been told to do.

“Parade, rest, airman.” The TI said.

Kirk kept his posture, but slid his left leg out and clamped his hands together behind his back.

“Airman Biscuit. How do you feel your training is progressing?”

Kirk didn’t expect a question, though, in the real Air Force a question would probably be a possible reason an officer in charge would call him to report or on the other hand maybe the airman screwed up.

“Sir, I think I am progressing quite well.”

“I do too, airman biscuit, only one 341 pulled though I have noticed that you get quite easily unnerved by some of the tasks required of you.”

Kirk gulped not knowing where this was going. Is this a shake down? “Ah, yes sir. I try my best to power through and not let my nerves overcome my thoughts.”

“Sure. Good effort, but I think this one 341 could have been avoided if you hadn’t been overcome by nerves because the LT told me that you seemed, ah, frazzled in lack of a better word.”

“Yes, sir. I was.” Kirk could feel tears clouding his vision.

“Okay, Airman Biscuit. Try to work out of your anxiety by thinking the situation through beforehand. We need airmen who can think on their feet and make fast, correct, and logical decisions.”

“Yes sir.”

The TI smiled. “Out in the real Air Force, you would never call an NCO sir. They would most likely tell you that they, as enlisted people, work for a living. So you are released.”

“Thank you, sir.” Kirk cringed not knowing if he should have dropped the “Sir.” He came to attention, did a perfect about face and strode to and through the door. Outside in the common area, he relaxed and let out a long, long breath.

By this point, Kirk had changed a lot adapting little by little to Air Force life, as a trainee anyway, but he still had a few hurdles to jump before he was done. Kirk survived though not the same from week to week. Air Force training requirements and conditions changed how Kirk acted, how he looked, and how his outlook on his future had changed. And who knew what would be revealed in the last week or so in Air Force Basic Training that would tweak Kirk right up to the very last day? 

  

Author's Note

To reiterate, I can't recall all the minutiae of basic training from 50 years ago, but I tried to fill in the blanks.