You're in the Air Force now
I arrived at Lackland FL at nearly midnight. I hadn't slept the night before because I was so nervous, so by the time I arrived at the base I had already been awake for 32 hours straight. It must have been the dileriun that mad me volunteer to be in a band flight and say that I could play an instrument. Or it could have been the intoxication of finally having some modicum of safety and control that made me pick up an instrument again. Finally making it to basic training was the most liberating feeling I had ever had.
I needed to keep the feeling going.
So I volunteered for everything I could. I volunteered to be guide on bearer. I volunteered to help everyone else in my flight study and clean. I started drawing again, sketching things around me into my issued notebook.
I volunteered for the worst guard shifts, which meant that when one depressed airman who was desperate to leave tried to hang herself in the bathroom, I was the one who found her. I'm not sure why I reacted the way I did, but the first words I said were enough to startle her into coming loose from the noose she tied around the toilet and get the immediate attention of the charge of quarters on duty that night. I didn't scream or panic at all. Instead I laughed and said loudly "now why are you doing that? You're fucking doing it wrong."
The girl snapped up and a voice came over the intercom asking "Doing what wrong, trainee?"
Still laughing, I stuttered that she was trying kill herself but the belt was so loose that it couldn't kill her. The airman who was trying to harm herself became angry with my mocking her suicide attempt that she got up to argue with me. By the time CQ arrived, she was yelling and angry but very much alive.
She went home to her family not long after and that was only day 3. After it all, I felt good, helping someone else. I felt like I was doing the right thing and it was amazing.
There was this one time where the entire flight was dropped for push-ups. After we were given permission to recover, the TI was yelling at the flight for some infraction, the vein on his neck bulging. The girl he was yelling at was in near tears but for some reason the realization that no matter how much he yelled he couldn't touch me hit me right at that moment. Amidst the wave of relief I felt at that moment, I laughed, which naturally brought the wrath of the TI down on me.
"What are you laughing at trainee? You think I am a joker here for your amusement?" He screamed, his face turning red. I doubt he was expecting my response.
"No sir. I just realized that no matter how angry you are or how much you yell, you can't actually hurt me," I responded.
His red angry face went quickly white as my words sunk in, as he took in the fading bruises on my arms and neck, he quickly dismissed us then went into his office.
Although most of basic was actually pretty fun, I did discover a few things. First, it is a really bad idea to keep putting your tongue ring back in during your graduation unless you really like being back at week 1, day 1. Second, if you have an allergic reaction to something, your TI will not appreciate you walking up to him and simply saying you don't feel well then blacking out. Third, a 5'10" woman should not be 90lbs. In fact, because I was so underweight I was put on a special diet plan meant to help me gain weight. I ate more in 6 weeks than I had in years, but the vigirous exercise prevented me from gaining enough weight to make the bare minimum acceptable weight to graduate.
My hidden hero here was my TI, who secretly put his foot on the scale to give me enough weight to graduate. So off I went to technical school to learn how to do mechanical work on aircraft. I loved it. I was learning amazing things and making friends. I also yearned for that feeling I had when I helped that girl in basic. Then I found my way to get it back.
I started volunteering for Airmen Against Drunk Driving. I volunteered for at least 2 4 hour shifts a weekend, racking up more than 100 hours of volunteer service over the duration of my training. I received numerous awards and recognitions for my volunteer work. I volunteered more time to participate in car washes, base cleanup, charge of quarters, pretty much anything I could just to get that feeling back.
When I had my uniform on, when I was visible - I was the model airman.
At night - well that was another story. I spent nearly every free night with a different person. Sometimes several persons. Normal party drugs were off limits - though we still got them. But everyone had prescription meds to share. It was fun but I’m not sure how I didn't somehow die back then.
I needed to keep the feeling going.
So I volunteered for everything I could. I volunteered to be guide on bearer. I volunteered to help everyone else in my flight study and clean. I started drawing again, sketching things around me into my issued notebook.
I volunteered for the worst guard shifts, which meant that when one depressed airman who was desperate to leave tried to hang herself in the bathroom, I was the one who found her. I'm not sure why I reacted the way I did, but the first words I said were enough to startle her into coming loose from the noose she tied around the toilet and get the immediate attention of the charge of quarters on duty that night. I didn't scream or panic at all. Instead I laughed and said loudly "now why are you doing that? You're fucking doing it wrong."
The girl snapped up and a voice came over the intercom asking "Doing what wrong, trainee?"
Still laughing, I stuttered that she was trying kill herself but the belt was so loose that it couldn't kill her. The airman who was trying to harm herself became angry with my mocking her suicide attempt that she got up to argue with me. By the time CQ arrived, she was yelling and angry but very much alive.
She went home to her family not long after and that was only day 3. After it all, I felt good, helping someone else. I felt like I was doing the right thing and it was amazing.
There was this one time where the entire flight was dropped for push-ups. After we were given permission to recover, the TI was yelling at the flight for some infraction, the vein on his neck bulging. The girl he was yelling at was in near tears but for some reason the realization that no matter how much he yelled he couldn't touch me hit me right at that moment. Amidst the wave of relief I felt at that moment, I laughed, which naturally brought the wrath of the TI down on me.
"What are you laughing at trainee? You think I am a joker here for your amusement?" He screamed, his face turning red. I doubt he was expecting my response.
"No sir. I just realized that no matter how angry you are or how much you yell, you can't actually hurt me," I responded.
His red angry face went quickly white as my words sunk in, as he took in the fading bruises on my arms and neck, he quickly dismissed us then went into his office.
Although most of basic was actually pretty fun, I did discover a few things. First, it is a really bad idea to keep putting your tongue ring back in during your graduation unless you really like being back at week 1, day 1. Second, if you have an allergic reaction to something, your TI will not appreciate you walking up to him and simply saying you don't feel well then blacking out. Third, a 5'10" woman should not be 90lbs. In fact, because I was so underweight I was put on a special diet plan meant to help me gain weight. I ate more in 6 weeks than I had in years, but the vigirous exercise prevented me from gaining enough weight to make the bare minimum acceptable weight to graduate.
My hidden hero here was my TI, who secretly put his foot on the scale to give me enough weight to graduate. So off I went to technical school to learn how to do mechanical work on aircraft. I loved it. I was learning amazing things and making friends. I also yearned for that feeling I had when I helped that girl in basic. Then I found my way to get it back.
I started volunteering for Airmen Against Drunk Driving. I volunteered for at least 2 4 hour shifts a weekend, racking up more than 100 hours of volunteer service over the duration of my training. I received numerous awards and recognitions for my volunteer work. I volunteered more time to participate in car washes, base cleanup, charge of quarters, pretty much anything I could just to get that feeling back.
When I had my uniform on, when I was visible - I was the model airman.
At night - well that was another story. I spent nearly every free night with a different person. Sometimes several persons. Normal party drugs were off limits - though we still got them. But everyone had prescription meds to share. It was fun but I’m not sure how I didn't somehow die back then.
Comments
Post a Comment