Here’s a brief recap of Part Two. Enlisted at MEPS, left my family, stayed at the horrible hotel/motel place, flew for the first time, awaited instructions in an airport terminal (apparently reserved just for us or abandoned) and finally arrived at Lackland, AFB in the middle of the night.
We lined up on yellow marks in front of your typical military-style building. Most facilities have the same outdated look to them. They’re all brick and the military loves dark brown for some reason. After standing for what felt like a very long time we went from the dimly lit concrete pad outside to a very bright room. Honestly, I preferred the dimly lit pad outside. At least out there, it was quite and the dark made you feel like you weren’t standing out so much.
I wonder how many groups those ‘nice gentlemen’ who had greeted us at the bus had dealt with in the past? Did they still laugh at the clumsy new recruits, falling and scrambling off the bus? If they did they hadn’t shown it to us.
After we finished in the bright room we were placed into a loose formation and — I use this term very loosely– marched to our home, where we would be for the next 6-weeks. I don’t recall much about the march/walk to the dorm. I had been assigned to the 332nd Wolf Pack. I was pretty proud of being in the Wolf Pack. Some others, I would find out later, were assigned to the ‘Candy Flight’ as it was affectionally called.
One of those dark brown metal doors greeted us. We passed it and I recall hearing the Training Instructor (TI) say, in only a way that they can, to hold on to the handrail. It’s funny how everything they say or teach has a hostile edge to it. It certainly makes remembering things easier I suppose.
At the top of the stairs, there was another metal door, this one had a small window in the top 1/3. I’ll let you guess what color the door was. We entered the dorm and immediately to the left was a long bay that held between 20-30 bunks (I can’t recall exactly). Straight ahead was a corridor about 30 feet long. To the right was a wooden door (no it wasn’t dark brown), beside it a water fountain. I’ll pause here to mention the fountain.
TI’s wanted a polished foundation. There would be no hard-water spots on them. We learned later, like most things in Basic Military Training, which from here on I will either refer to as BMT or Basic, not to use or touch it if you didn’t have to. Regardless of how careful we were, the TIs would walk by and flick the little beige handle, leaving a little stream of water which would then dry, leaving a water streak. You can guess what happens when the TI returns to discover you didn’t notice the water streak.
Just past the spotless fountain were the Latrines, equipped with 4 stalls, four sinks and a shower area with about 8 heads. 8 shower heads for an entire flight got a little uncomfortable at times. Past the Latrine at the end of the corridor was the ‘day-room’ and to the left of the corridor at the end was the other bay which held an equal number of bunks as the first.
I was in the first bay about midway down on the right. I can’t recall if we picked our beds or were assigned a bunk but I ended up on the bottom of a bunk bed. I was thrilled to be in the middle on the bottom bunk as opposed to the single twin beds toward the entrance door side of the bay.
I’ll end with this fun scene. The TIs (I think there were 3 or 4) were yelling, the atmosphere was tense, no one had any idea what to do. We all stood in front of our wall-lockers, in tighty-whiteys (old men, white underwear) while TIs came around, mere inches from our noses, yelling. We would then respond with, “Yes Sir,” “Yes, Sergeant” or “Sir, trainee Copeland reports as ordered.” We were given an absurd amount of time to get everyone showered, shaved and in the bunks. I’m sure we didn’t even come remotely close to accomplishing that first task.
My bed cover was a gray wool blanket (they must have a secret stash stored up from WW1). It was arranged upon the bed with perfect hospital corners. The top part was flipped down and the pillow (which I don’t recall there being) would have been arranged at the top. Of course, every part of the bunk had a perfect order to include proper dimensions for the folds.
I crawled under the covers and you could hear a pin drop. The TI’s left, the bays went dark, and I’m not sure if anyone slept. Honestly, you felt uncomfortable sleeping. Like somehow you’d do something in your sleep which would incur the wrath of your TI. Sleeping didn’t matter much anyway because shortly after they left, they returned with a renewed zeal for yelling. I must have dozed off, at least briefly because I was startled awake as bunks were being flipped. I stood against my wall locker, performing my best attempt at proper military attention. Which if you’re unaware is the stance Airman are required to stand at when being addressed by superiors (especially, during BMT and Tech School). At some point the assault subsided, we quickly fixed our bunks and laid down. I’ve always been blessed with the ability to fall asleep quickly, usually within minutes of laying down and sometimes much faster. Quick side note to that point.
My wife tells a story about me. She said, we were laying down and I had prayed. No sooner, than I said Amen, I started to snore. In a place like BMT having that superpower really comes in handy.
Soon the morning light crept through the Bay Windows and I had survived the first night.
Thanks for taking some time to walk with me through a very important part of not only my history but our Nations proud heritage of turning boys into men. I hope you’ll continue the journey with me next week.