Not the Same #11 Been There. Done That.

The basic trainees of Flight 293 could feel the culmination of their training approaching with optimism, but then Kirk got his biggest disappointment.

Cue: “Things Can Only Get Better” https://youtu.be/KM4Sm67GkFE?si=UxFXzWJCutaPDN-G

 

There Kirk remained amidst Air Force Basic Training at Lackland Air Force Base amongst his fellow Flight 293 trainees who were all a bit younger than him. Even though there was little time to get to know each other and socialize in any way, they all had that “end of the tunnel” firmly on their minds, that is, graduating out into the real Air Force. Most of the guys in his flight had selected and reserved an Air Force skill before basic began, but Kirk just wanted to hurry and join up before he chickened out thereby pressing his luck by permitting the Air Force to decide his future job fate.

As the weeks slid by, with the strict compressed routine crammed into a daily 15-hour day schedule, the strain of high pressure demands placed on them mentally and physically might have broken some trainees. Though it seemed, at least to Kirk, that his overall stress level had decreased. Perhaps, he had grown used to the pressure placed on him every day, or maybe he could see the end, or possibly in fact the demands were lightening up. Whatever it was, there still was plenty to get through before he graduated when he could be called an airman. 

 

After the M-16 rifle shooting qualification, the trainees met another battlefield type training scenario. The trainees sat at desks with ugly black rubber masks staring each of them in the face with googily lenses. Kirk didn’t sign up for gas mask training after seeing war movies in his younger years showing brutal scenes of chemical gas attacks in wars that kept him awake at night for a long time, but there he was learning all about maintaining, cleaning and wearing a gas mask.

If, on a battlefield, there was any threat of a chemical attack, each and every airman, soldier, sailor would carry a gas mask. The knowledge kind of made Kirk sick to his stomach. Anyway, they would carry the mask in a canvas bag under their right arm in stylish olive green of course. The very stylish mask face would, ahem, face out of the bag for quick deployment and effective employment. 

Anyway, they learned about wiping it down with soap and water, replacing the filters (make sure you have the right one installed for the chemical expected), and cleaning the lens. Practice of use came with plenty of attempts. The sequence: Open the bag, pull the mask out with the left hand and with pre-loosened elastic straps, open the mask over his head, pull down over his head onto his face. Kirk often got the straps tangled up. With it positioned on his head correctly, he tugged on the straps with both hands (good thing his hair wasn’t long) until tight remembering that if being attacked by gas it would behoove the airman to do it fast and efficiently which raised Kirk’s heart rate just considering it. With the mask now tight on his face, he clamped both hands on the air inlet/outlets and blew out and then sucked (inhaled) in so the rubber mask clamps onto his face like the alien creature in the movie Alien. Theoretically, you can proceed to breathe with the reminder that you were supposed to be holding your breath from the first cry of “gas! gas! gas! Yep, that’s important if there is poisonous gas wafting about! Well, he hoped he wasn’t going to wear it all day even though there was an option to drink water from a canteen. Actually, practice was one thing, but Kirk hoped he’d never HAVE to wear it.  

Then, came a near-real world practice. Kirk had heard bits and pieces about the “gas chamber” and it was enough to cause him to dread said practice. Come to find out, the so-called chamber revealed as  a small concrete building set out away from everything else. A portion of the flight meandered to the building with their masks in their side packs. The TI in charge at the test went inside the building to set off the gas and they gave it a couple minutes.

Without warning, the TI shouted, “GAS! GAS! GAS! Which put the trainees into action more or less to whip out their masks and don them.  Well, Kirk felt like he donned his own in the less category, feeling like he moved in slow motion which, maybe he had, but he consciously did it correctly step by step because he had no instinctual repetition to don it despite the practice.

With four of them plus the TI wearing masks, they went into the gas chamber with the gas wafting out the door. Inside, they were tested in a fog of gas.

“Any ill effects from the gas?” Asked the TI glancing between the four guys. “Answer verbally.”

There were “nos” all around.

“Trainees, turn your heads right and left.” They did. “Touch your toes” They did so. He pointed to each in turn. “State your name and Social Security Number.” Each did as instructed as the gas continued to sizzle and waft about. “Any eye irritation or ill smells?” “Nos” all around. “Ready, trainees this is the fun part. When I tell you to, take off your masks.” This order was not a surprise to any of them, so they expected it. “Remember, take a deep breath, hold it and take your mask off. You’ll feel it on your eyes for the most part if you don’t breathe in. Understand?”

They shook their black rubber masked heads.

“Take your masks off, now!”

Taking a deep breath, Kirk took his mask off like the other three. The tear gas hit his eyes instantly causing them to water profusely, so he couldn’t focus on anything. In what seemed too long for holding his breath, the TI shouted “GAS! GAS! GAS!” The trainees pulled on their masks. “Make sure the mask is tight. CLEAR IT!” Kirk found it hard to blow out after holding his breath but managed to push out the contaminated air hard enough to make the mask fart against his cheeks. A good sign.

The TI looked at each one of them. “All okay? Breathe normally and give me a thumbs up.” They all did. “Good!” He opened the door and gestured them out. “Take off your masks and breathe in fresh air. Face the wind and blink your eyes to clear them. Rinse your eyes and face with water from your canteen if you need to.” 

So, Kirk survived that. Next up was the physical evaluation which in reality turned out to be a major non-event. Sometimes a warrior just needs to run away to fight another day, so the Air Force evaluation consisted solely of the mile and half run. The Army on the other hand, had pushups, pull ups, sit ups and a two-mile run to qualify. Kirk only had to run the distance in less than twelve minutes. Piece of cake. They were off! Without much huffing and puffing Kirk finished in 9:53 minutes saving himself to fight another day.

The trainees never knew when to expect it: Their personal locker inspections and on this particular day, before anything, before the sun came up, the TI blew his whistle and click, clicked into the barracks area.

“Trainees! Open your lockers!”

Kirk heard a couple strong intakes of breaths, gasps if you may. Kirk being closest to the door, would be the logical place for the TI to start inspecting as he had once before. On this particular day he started in the middle and worked the other way. The trainees had to stand at attention at the foot of their beds facing away while the TI opened the lockers and drawers at the head of their beds. Waiting patiently as the inspection progressed remained difficult for all of them. Prior assumption that an inspection loomed anytime remained the key in preparation. Kirk wasn’t worried, but there was always that one lingering…

The inspections, each one, went pretty quick for the TI knew what he looked for and usually if he found something a little off it caused him to look closer, so that remained a lesson learned. As the TI moved on, and them being at attention the trainees couldn’t watch, but suddenly, they heard swish, rattle and a muffled frump! It was extremely difficult not to venture a look and see whose drawer got dumped on the floor. Everyone’s heartrate went up!

Arriving at Kirk’s locker, the TI opened his locker doors. Kirk knew all his uniforms hung on hangers with hooks facing backwards and set perfectly spaced across the bar. He heard the slide of his boots being inspected. Kirk had shined them recently and heard the thumps of them being put back. The drawer opened with a rasp. Kirk knew his skivvies had been placed perfectly spaced and sized to the six-inch square requirement. He heard his log book of dollar serial numbers pages flip and smiled as the drawer and locker closed. He let out his breath. The TI walked past his bed and then directly past him, mumbling low in Kirk’s direction.

“Good job.”

He didn’t know for sure if the compliment had been directly meant for him alone, but Kirk beamed anyway as the TI continued on the opposite row. The TI released Kirk’s row to perform their morning rituals. Just one more small lesson in attention to detail during basic training that always needed constant consideration.

Moving on to the confidence course, Kirk thought the experience sounded fun, but some of his fellow trainees dreaded it. What do they know? He didn’t press the issue. With an easy jog en masse to a nearby wooded area to get warmed up, there they were all rarin’ to go. Kirk didn’t think it looked all that intimidating, in fact he thought it looked much like an adult-sized playground with walls, logs, ropes and jungle gyms.  The place crawled with TIs and other Air Force personnel giving a the trainees a hint of potential disasters.

They lined up single file at the first obstacle, and they progressed above and along a shallow pool by hanging on a rope and working their way across, basically elbow to elbow. A TI watching closely urging them on. Only one trainee behind Kirk must have lost his grip on the rope and dropped into the knee-deep water. Next up was a solid, six-foot wall which they attacked two at a time. Another TI shouted out how to lift themselves, flip their legs up and over, to drop off the other side. Then, facing another water hazard where they had to jump up to grab a swinging rope, then swing above the water to alight on dry land on the other side. One guy didn’t grab high enough, so he dragged his legs through the water and hit the far side before sliding down humiliated and wet in the water. The TI told him to let go to drop into the water and go back in line to try it again. Kirk didn’t need to see the failure of that one guy, but he grabbed the rope up high and with a spin on the rope landed on the other side backwards. Kind of awkward but dry. Whatever it took, eh?

Overall, Kirk thought the obstacles seemed rather easy, at least for him. The next facing him were telephone poles laying across alternately tipped high and low. The TI shouted for them to go over the lower ones, crawl under the higher ones. Kirk thought he’d stay clean during the course, but not when he had to crawl on his belly. The next ones seemed to get harder with a height of rope netting that the trainees had to climb maybe two stories up. The TI shouted to keep their grips as they ascended and descended. Kirk found out why the advice just by watching those who went before. The netting being loose and flexible made climbing difficult with getting each of your feet properly purchased on the ropes because more often than not you miss the step and your leg goes right through. One trainee lost his grip and wound up hanging by his legs. With the help of a young airman assistant standing by just for that purpose, climbed up and helped the hanging guy get his arms up and hands back gripping the ropes. 

Kirk had to go up next and being careful to get his hands and feet just right he went slow. He didn’t want to end up like that other guy! The TI shouted for him to get a move on because he held up the line. Kirk didn’t need that instruction! Once or twice his leg fell through to the inside and once he lost both legs as the netting bounced from another trainee next to him, but Kirk hung on and got reestablished. Carefully flipping over to the other side, descending seemed harder yet, but by primarily using hands and arms to go down he did quite well.  Next up was a rope climb up and over a two-story wall. Kirk watched the other trainees, some struggled, some went up and over quite quickly.

Kirk thought it should be a piece of cake for him as he recalled in high school, after he had slimmed down and gained strength, where in gym class he could grab the climbing rope flip his legs up to entangle the rope between them and climb the rope upside down! High school gym was definitely more fun than in junior high when a chubby Kirk could barely pull himself up high enough to get his feet off the floor!

Last up, Kirk guessed it might be the grand finale that remained was the giant teepee climb made from telephone poles. He could see potential disasters with injuries doing this climb, so he took his time making sure his hands and feet purchases were sound. The TI shouted for him to hurry up again, but Kirk didn’t need that kind of encouragement when he reassured himself, he was not afraid of heights, but rationally, he definitely respected heights. Yeah, up there seemed pretty high, and Kirk dug his fingers into the top log when he switched over to go down. Well, he made it okay, but he felt glad with his feet on the ground.

Kirk, the average guy in all he did, ended up finishing in the middle of the pack. The “gung-hos” had been done for some time already and the “also ran” trainees staggered in with a couple of them limping, a few soaking wet, but no one was carried away on a stretcher which overall, a good confidence course run by Flight 293.  

They say that the US Army confidence course instills comradeship and team work, but after the fact, it seemed to Kirk that the Air Force confidence course instilled a mindset of “every man for himself.”

Into the last week of basic training, Kirk and his fellow trainees were anxious to get their final career counseling. Recalling that a majority of the trainees had signed up and reserved a skill that they’d receive training in technical school. Of course, everyone knew that schools and assignments weren’t set in stone, so no one knew exactly when and where they’d move on after basic. As they were all told, the needs of the Air Force came first.

As Kirk waited his turn, he overheard one trainee that even though he had a guaranteed AFSC he was going to have to wait for an opening in his “elite” technical school. Kirk waited his turn to get the word of his future with bated breath. When his turn came about his breath caught, his mind whirling, wondering what new job and adventures lay in store. As he sat down before a technical sergeant sitting behind a typical gray steel desk, the sergeant announced right off the bat.

Matter of factly, he said, “Airman Biscuit you’re are slated for a Direct Duty Assignment. Kirk’s silent confusion must have been palpable. 

“That means you are going right into an assignment without tech school.”

“Ah, how can I do that? I don’t understand.”

“Of course, evaluating your skills and aptitude before entering the Air Force, you were assigned an AFSC of 472X1D which is a Special Purpose Vehicle Repairman with the D suffix meaning a focus on Towing and Servicing Vehicles. So, you go directly into On-the-Job Training at a base that has yet to be determined.”

Silently, Kirk sat there, his hopes crushed just like that. He had no clue to what entailed “Towing and Servicing Vehicles,” but assumed it must have had something integral with his year of college training on Diesel and Heavy Equipment. After being built up and proud during his basic training and looking forward to a job new and exciting, Kirk felt like shrinking into the chair he sat on. All for naught.

The sergeant took in the silent Kirk.

“You know a lot of airmen would jump on the opportunity to go right to the job instead of tech school which in many cases is quite long.”

Kirk took a while to gain back his ability to speak. “So, I leave basic and go right out into the Air Force and start working as a mechanic?”

“Repairman, as it is named,” the sergeant scanned Kirk’s paperwork. “There actually, is not a base you will be assigned to yet. Which means after basic you go into Casual Status which basically is a holding pattern for airmen like you and others waiting for a tech school entry date.”

“How long would that be for me then?”

“Hard to say, a week maybe two figuring in how much leave you might take before going to your assignment.”

“Is casual,” Kirk swallowed. “The same as basic then?”

“Oh no,” the sergeant leaned back and held his hands up. “It’s a much-relaxed atmosphere with some jobs to keep you busy, but your evenings are completely free. Lots of free time.”

“I see,” Kirk said, not fully accepting his fate. A fate that he never, ever imagined he’d be hearing and meeting in the Air Force. A grease monkey, a mechanic like he tried to escape from. He sure didn’t want being a repairman for his Air Force job, nor outside employment for the rest of his life.

“Okay, that’s all Airman Biscuit. It’ll all be explained more in depth after you graduate. You are released.”

“Thank you, sir,” Kirk said, but he didn’t mean it at all as he suddenly determined his Air Force enlisting did nothing for him in the way of new job opportunities, the number one reason he had joined. Just like that, he had become disenchanted with his future in the Air Force. We’ll have to see how it all pans out for soon to be Airman Kirk Biscuit.

It’s not to say Kirk gave up towards the end of his basic training. There was no way he’d do that, so he continued to put his heart and soul into all that they had him do to graduate. Besides, he wouldn’t compromise himself to get set back this far into his training with, what, only a week to go? The training suddenly had seemed it was just getting easier and the notoriously hard, stressful stuff he’d been through already and he passed just fine.

Even though the flight trainees had two scalping haircuts already during their six weeks of training, they got another haircut, he supposed so they looked the part when they got their group picture taken and when they completed basic and moved on.

Marching had become second nature with everyone in the flight staying in step, keeping their places, maintaining perfect rank and file and for Kirk, listening intently for the next command. The TI began initiating chants called “cadence chants.” First off starting with the simple “left, right, left” and so on, the TI making the call and the flight trainees responding such as the Sound Off chant where the TI shouts out “Sound Off” and the trainees give back “one, two” and “three, four” in time with steps expanding into short ditties about now being in the Air Force while leaving mom and/or the girlfriend back home and losing the latter. Kirk had to admit it did bolster pride in their appearance and sound while marching reminding him of the same feeling instilled in the old war movies replicating what he participated in right at that moment.   

Apparently, the Air Force, or more than likely the TI decided at this point the whole flight would make it all the way through, so they got their official Flight 0293 photograph taken. You’d think in military basic training they’d want to appear tough, battle ready, and severe in their fatigues, but no, there were smiles all around. A nice shot of his fellow trainees though Kirk could hardly pick himself out in the picture afterwards because they looked the same!

One perk they received closer to the end of basic training was base liberty. This allowed the trainees a couple free hours to decompress and to visit and enjoy base facilities. They visited Lackland’s Gateway Club, Greenside Grill and visited the Troop Mall for fast food options was what Kirk gravitated to for a real burger and fries. Of course, there was also the bowling alley, gym, theater, base exchange, and the commissary. This base liberty, which was silently monitored by TIs to gauge and prepare the trainees’ ability to maintain discipline and self-control when not under direct supervision. This was followed up later with more freedom in way of a town pass which would be a final reward of training well done.  

In preparation, three flights attended the mass pre-town pass briefing that outlined what they were restricted from doing and the strict “meet the bus on time or be considered AWOL” warning. Well, that in itself was enough to strike terror in Kirk’s heart so he listened a bit closer than some of the other briefings. Because the town pass aligned with open house, some of the trainees’ parents, relatives, and girlfriends and even spouses could show up sharing time with their favorite trainee downtown and be present later for airman graduation. Activities outright banned included driving, swimming, public displays of affection, or, not surprisingly, the consumption of alcoholic beverages.  The speaker reiterated that town pass was a privilege for good work but could be revoked immediately upon negative disciplinary actions of any kind.

On the day of Open House and Town Pass, about half of the trainees in Kirk’s flight had parents and relatives show up for the special last two days. Kirk had informed Sarah Elizabeth about the Open House, but at the same time told her that he didn’t expect her to come because of the distance and her commitments at home. He didn’t tell his mother about it at all. He knew she’d love to see him in uniform and all the pomp and ceremony, but he also knew his father wouldn’t care enough to show. Just as well.

So the trainees with significant others went off together while Kirk and the remaining half of trainees boarded a bus to head to San Antonio. Kirk thought it a bit odd to see all of his comrades in civilian clothes after weeks of living in the various uniforms they had in their dormitory lockers. They had simple handouts explaining places to visit in San Antonio besides the explicit instructions to show up for the bus at the designated place and time of 6PM or be left behind.

Kirk, as with his previous life as a civilian, didn’t make any fast friends to hang with on Town Pass. Riding the bus, a small group of four decided they’d check out Riverwalk and see the Alamo. Kirk thought that was as good idea as anything else and asked if he could go with them. Of course he could.

Disembarking from the bus, the driver gave them a send off of hoping they’d have a good time on pass. Kirk felt taken aback at the drop off right in the midst of downtown finding it overwhelming after only being in the dorm and military facilities for weeks now. Yeah, Kirk was not the same Kirk as he was the last time he rode the Air Force bus from the airport.

Walking down the street, Kirk more or less tagged along behind the other guys taking in all the sights, sounds and smells of San Antonio especially the Mexican food restaurants. Apparently, the others thought the same because they thought about hitting a restaurant on the way back around.  Walking down the Riverwalk proved relaxing despite them stretching their legs to cover ground. Of course, being lean, mean fighting machines now, they took the fast walk all in stride. Yep!

They covered the few blocks relatively quickly and took in the historic site of the Alamo. Interesting that the fortress now remained amidst modern buildings, restaurants, stores and high rises. The group voiced their displeasure after taking in the crowd that looked like it wasn’t moving at all meaning that they’d have to wait hours to look inside. They didn’t want to spend all their time there, and actually, Kirk didn’t care all that much, at least he had seen the front of the Alamo. He picked up a couple post cards for his parents and Sarah E. to more or less prove he’d been there.

Back to the River Walk they zeroed in on a Mexican restaurant that looked well-ordered and smelled appetizing.  They went inside Casa Rio that seemed busy, but appeared authentic and smelled absolutely appetizing. Kirk never had any Mexican food to speak of so all the fare was all new to him. Being hungry and not knowing what to order, he got a sampler plate. Tacos and burritos turned out to be Kirk’s new favorite foods. The guys ordered a Super Nacho plate to share.

Everyone dug in, but the waiter warned Kirk that the peppers were hot. Kirk had grown up with hot Buffalo wings, so shrugged off the warning not believing the peppers could be too hot for him to handle. He took up three peppers with some cheese and popped it right into his mouth. The other guys watched expressionless. He chewed a couple times when suddenly the sweat formed, he got red faced, and his throat tightened up. Yikes! Coughing a couple times Kirk thought he had a volcano erupting in his mouth and tried to extinguish it with water and his Coke, but they didn’t help. His cohorts laughed at him. Yeah, he could take the hottest hot wings back home in New York, but they weren’t anything like those lava-like jalapenos.

Recovering, they ventured on with plenty of time to spare which was front and center on their minds at all times. Not in any sort of hurry now, they walked down the River Walk taking in the foliage and the few small boats cruising along on the water. Further on, John suddenly came to a halt looking into a storefront. Kirk turned to find out what caught his attention: A tattoo parlor. John said he wanted to get an authentic US Air Force tattoo to make his time in basic and wondered if the other guys were interested in getting one as well. Tim, a quiet sort of fellow, said straight out that there wasn’t any way he’d mark his body like that for the rest of his life. Kirk and Bryan didn’t commit themselves either way, but they followed John inside just the same. Many music-related and gothic posters lined the walls along with sample tattoos, probably the most desirable ones like US Air Force with wings, feathered wings, rock band names and logos, and of course, the classic “MOM.”

Kirk had never noticed a tattoo parlor before in his life, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any around his haunts in New York. There were three artist, who displayed some of their art on their selves, ready to do “inks” with one of them busy at work on an Air Force trainee that they didn’t recognize but might have been from one of their sister flights. John instantly gravitated to the Air Force tattoo rolled up his sleeve and sat down for the one artist who donned rubber gloves to start right in with their handheld buzzing tattoo machines. 

On the fence, Kirk wasn’t about getting a tattoo. He remained unsure about his commitment to the Air Force enough to get the experience engraved on his body forever. With John gritting his teeth as the artist worked on his Air Force tattoo, he told the other three that along with marking his body commemorating the completion of basic that it also marked the first major occasion in his life away from home town to start a new life. Kirk let that sink in for a while.

Yeah, that echoed what Dee had said when she left for the US Navy, but Kirk still didn’t know about putting a permanent US Air Force on his arm, back or chest. He paged through a sample book showing different designs and pictures and such. He paused at a picture of Snoopy the dog with dog dish on his head and hobo sack hanging from a stick perched on his shoulder. Yeah, Snoopy had left home and would signify Kirk doing the same. He told the other artist what he wanted, thinking that Snoopy’s dog dish resembled a military flight cap, so specified that the dish should be Air Force blue. He bared his right arm and they went to work by first applying a heavy smear of Vaseline. He gritted his teeth and withstood the pain. Afterward, they wiped the “wound” clean and put on a big band aid over it. Kirk thought maybe he was glad he got it for connotation, or was he?  Not. Really. Kirk fully understood he now forever remained a marked man.

On graduation day, the TI came in as usual blowing his whistle with the accompanying click, click, click. He paused.

“All right, men!” Which was the first time he addressed them in such a manner. “Uniform of the day: Dress blues, wheel hat, and low quarters.” He slowly walked down the center aisle as usual. Glancing right and half. “We need to look sharp, act in a disciplined manner, so help each other out with your uniforms.” He paused, did an about face. “It has been a distinct honor guiding you through these six and a half weeks of training. I hope you take all your training, discipline, and bearing on to your future roles in the Air Force. That’s all, let’s get ready!” 

All dressed in blues, Kirk thought Flight 293 had become occupied by a completely different bunch of trainees. He nervously put his uniform on and made all the checks with a thorough inspection as he was trained. With an announcement from the TI, they scrambled down to the patio as they’ve done many times in the weeks of training. They formed up, dressed and covered as usual.

The TI clicked, clicked down each rank checking each trainee up and down with adjustments with fit and wear of the uniforms, ties tied correctly, and as Kirk knew very well, the wheel hat square on the head and pulled down to a distance of two fingers between brim and nose. Satisfied, the TI put them in close ranks and at ease. He let them know that they had a little time before marching to the parade grounds. Kirk saw another flight, all in dress blues march by. The TI reminded them that when standing at attention for an extended period not to lock their knees which could restrict blood to their lower legs and they could collapse. How embarrassing if that happened during a graduation ceremony. Kirk remembered to be glad that, their being in Texas, it was still comfortable outside.

Finally, back at attention, a right face and they marched off the patio to hit the road. Kirk thought that Flight 293 might even look, sound and march like a real military unit. Arriving at the parade grounds, he noticed rather surprised that of the four other flights one was an all-female flight. Still called WAFs at this time. Many airmen in fatigues, probably ordered to attend to fill the audience out, and many civilians like family, loved ones and significant others moderately filled the bleachers, all there for the open house, town pass, and to watch the graduation of their favorite trainee from Air Force Basic Training.

Flight 293, the third flight in formation entering the parade grounds, where they performed an “eyes right” to respect the reviewing officer and whoever else in way of dignitaries might be attending and as they approached the end of stretch, they got the “ready front” command. They then maneuvered into position so they could view the bleachers and podium. The band played the national anthem, so the trainees performed “present arms” even though they didn’t carry firearms, so they saluted and held it through the anthem.

The Basic Military Training commander took the podium to welcome friends and family to support their favorite trainee. He told them that support by their family and loved ones remained key, essential in the airman’s success. He then congratulated the trainees on their accomplishment of completing their training. He told them that they need to carry the lessons learned forward on to technical training and their operational careers. Also, they must instill the lofty merits of teamwork, discipline and to support one another and respect those appointed over them. As with the entry speech, he reiterated how they as airmen with continuing discipline and professionalism would become the Non-Commissioned Officers, supervisors and managers of the future. He covered the core values of integrity first, service before self, and excellence in all they do. Kirk didn’t hang on to all these lofty morale-boosting, pride inducing topics, half listening at times thinking that he had made a major mistake in joining, but at the same knowing he remained fully committed and would perform his job to the best of his ability. As a future NCO, supervisor, or manager? Kirk didn’t see it, could not believe that he would stick around long enough for those positions in the Air Force.

When the commander finished, he congratulated them again now saying with this formal retreat and ceremony they were fully fledged airmen. With a playing of retreat and presenting of arms, they again performed a pass and review before marching back to the dormitory.

…

 

So, Flight 293 had graduated, at least most of them went straight through the six weeks except those two who got set back, recycled or whatever their fate may have been. Before Kirk knew it, the dorm emptied out with most of his fellow flight members packed up and gone either with their relatives or girlfriends or catching the big dark blue Air Force bus to catch a plane to go home on leave or head on out on their way to technical school. Kirk envied those last guys. Really, envied them.

He stuffed all his uniforms, boots and other military clothes into his military duffle bag and with his civilian clothes stuffed into his leather bag, he went down the dorm steps. One. Last. Time.

On his way to casual with two other guys, Bob and James, they stood on the patio under the overhang of the dorm above with memories of many formations and drills floating in their memories. Here they waited. On their base liberties, they had used the shuttle bus that made the rounds to all the facilities at regular intervals to get to where they wanted to go.

Kirk knew approximately where casual was, among the old wooden two-story World War II era barracks. He thought a minute, feeling down that after all he had been through in basic training, he hadn’t got anything different for a job, Air Force skill, than he had before joining up. With a sudden decision, a deep breath, he hoisted up his military bag and slung it over his shoulder and started walking.

Bob shouted out. “Hey, Kirk where you going? The base shuttle will be here any minute.”

“Ah. I’m just gonna’ hoof it over to the barracks.”

“Oh. Okay. I’ll see you there.”

“Kirk, wait. I’m going with you, James shouted.

Kirk stopped. He looked back at the dorm and the two guys. James grabbed up his own gear and jogged awkwardly over to where Kirk stood on the lawn bank in front of the dormitory.

“I thought you’d like some company,” James said, getting even with Kirk.

“Sure. Why not.”

“Oh, all right. Hold up you guys, I’ll walk too,” Bob shouted, as he made his way down to the other two standing guys.

Kirk planned that he just needed some alone quiet time with his thoughts while feeling down and here he was with the two others. Maybe he really was a leader of men, but he didn’t think that until later�"much later.  

Bob and James definitely acted in higher spirits than him and eventually got Kirk that way by talking about all the “fun” they’ve been through together in basic, overly glad it was over, and went on about their future out in the real Air Force not knowing where they would end up because the three of them didn’t know that answer.

Kirk perked up as they walked cross lots to the old barracks that loomed in the distance as they talked about some more about the high and low points of basic training. They three found that the experience had definitely drew them as a flight together even though they knew they’d go different ways in the end. An experience that formed them into, officially now, US Air Force Airmen.

Kirk was not the same, far removed from the old young farm boy, grease monkey he had been when he joined up. But, being a mechanic was the solitary thing he didn’t want to be doing in the Air Force.

As the three Basic Training graduates trudged across Lackland Air Force Base lugging their duffle bags, they saw a newbie Rainbow Flight marching, poorly, discerned right off, and the three-brand new, officially designated Airmen silently looked at each other and smiled knowingly.

Been there, done that!

 

 

  

 

Author's Note

As I said before, a person can only recall part of what they experienced 50 years ago, so the basic training experience written here might be different than that by other Airmen.

Reviews

[lauren]

Hi!
I just read your story, and I’m obsessed! Your writing is incredible, and I kept imagining how cool it would be as a comic.
I’m a professional commissioned artist, and I’d love to work with you to turn it into one, if you’re into the idea, of course! I think it would look absolutely stunning.
Feel free to message me on Discord (laurendoesitall) or on Instagram (lizziedoesitall) if you’re interested. Can’t wait to hear from you!
Best,
Lauren