Epilogue

Class picture - Major Haigh is in the back row, far left. I lost about 7 pound from the time that picture was taken until I left... My roomate, Bryce Coombs is standing to my left (your right)

Looking back, my five weeks at COT were some of the greatest days of my life. I held my own with people less than half my age, and pushed myself to do things I never thought I could do. I learned things about myself that didn’t make me proud – but I am inspired to work on them. I learned so much from so many people, from Major Haigh to my roommate, Bryce Coombs. I developed a whole new understanding of religious pluralism and found that experience did wonders for my own religious identity and convictions. In so many ways, I wish I had done this twenty five years ago. I believe I would have been a better person, a better husband and a better father. 

 

Coming home was weird. I found myself walking with cupped hands and turning sharp corners. One of my children claimed he was keeping a count of how many stories I recounted of my experiences. I saw things from very different perspectives, looking for structure and order were there was very little. I chilled after a while, but I view things very differently. 

 

Coming back to my Guard unit was even stranger. I had been told countless times that the Guard is just a different animal than active duty Air Force – but I had no idea. The first day I came back I made a bee-line for the base commander’s office (Col Montgomery). He put out his hand and I preempted him by standing at attention, snapping a salute, and said, “SIR, Chaplain Captain Friedman reports!” – he laughed and said (with his heavy Southern drawl), “Boy, we’re gonna have to unstarch the crap outta you!” So many of the customs and courtesies that had been drilled in to my head – NEVER standing with your hands in your pockets, haircuts to standards, proper greetings, of course saluting – are not really a big deal here. At the first Commander’s Call (the roll call for the wing leadership), I was congratulated for completing the course, at which point Col Montgomery announced, “Watch it – he’s all fired up!” to which I responded, “SIR! The Kool-Aid was blue and I drank of it copiously!!” It’s really how I feel.  I am so proud to wear this uniform; I wish I could wear it every day. So what will happen when my four years are up? Who knows? I will be (God-willing) a functioning attorney – will I have time for this? 

 

Next up will be my six-week Basic Chaplain Course (BCC). I am supposed to finish it with 24 months of my commissioning (Dec ‘11). However, the dates of the course have to work with my law school schedule; this year, I couldn’t have done it.  I was assured that next year they will have more dates available – but if not this year, they will give me a waiver to take it when I finish school in May ’12. My dream is finishing school, studying for the bar exam, taking the exam in July/August and then leaving for a 6-month deployment (covering the High Holidays and Passover). I REALLY want to go… 

 

We’ll see.

Thirty Third Day

Wake up at 0600 – Maj Haigh came to do our room inspection (make sure we hadn’t burned our dresser or anything) and when it was over, he called us all into the Common Area where he gave us our diplomas and our final RMO (round metal object) as a graduation present. We gave him our graduation present. He was so excited about deploying this fall, and he had just qualified on the M-4 rifle. He also had told us about one of his most prized possessions, his great-grandfather’s bayonet.  So we bought him a bayonet for the M-4.  He was truly touched. SCORE!
 

We went to breakfast, came back and chilled until 0915 when we began forming up for the parade. It was REALLY hot out there, and within minutes we were all sweating, staining our blue shirts in most unattractive ways. As I have shared before, I am a column leader which means that I am first in the column (out of the four columns). I love being in front, seeing all that is going on. But I also can’t sneak a quick sweat-wipe, so the sweat just poured forth unchecked.

Marching onto the parade ground - not that you can tell, but if you look at the front row, I am the second person from the right (next to the tall guy)

Standing at attention on the parade ground - not that you can tell, but that's me, indicated by the arrow...

Up until this morning, we had been practicing to a recording, and we had our march cadence down cold. This morning, we had a live band – and they must have had quite a bit of coffee today; their cadence seemed twice as fast! Totally threw us off!

The band - SLOW DOWN!!!

The bleachers were full of family and friends (not for me… boohoo) and we did an acceptable job. As we passed the reviewing stand we suddenly heard someone yell, “I love you, Papa!” – it was Major Haigh giving us his send-off. We reformed, marched forward, repeated our oath and threw our caps – and it was ALL OVER! We gathered around for pictures and good byes, and we couldn’t get off that parade field fast enough. I ran back to my room, took a quick shower, changed into civilians (it felt SO weird), grabbed my bag (I had packed everything else yesterday), and took off. Did I mention previously that my freon was gone and I had no A/C? And that it was 96 degrees? I drove to a service station that was recommended by Maj Haigh’s wife – and they were closed. I spent an hour looking for someone else who would do it, but they all said they needed at least 1.5 hours… so I just left. After the last five weeks, what’s another day of sweat? I can handle it - I just want to get home…

Day 32

Almost done! But first, the final ceremonies.  This morning we ran the “Warrior Run” – we woke up at 0445 and fell in at 0500.  The Warrior Run is a 2-hour run – not straight, mind you. We ran about a mile through the base until we got to a plane (there are actual historic planes all over Maxwell as monuments). We would take a break, and taught something about the plane. Based on the facts, we had to do something. For example, “This is a B-52, the only jet in the military that carries nuclear missiles… blah blah blah… and THERFORE we will now do 52 pushups!”  Then we would run another mile until another statue.  You get the idea. I lasted about an hour and a half, but then my knee gave out again. I kept trying but it kept failing me. Finally, one of the officers drove by (he was picking up the stragglers) and I went along with him.  The run ended at the oldest building on the base. It was in that building that so much of what we had learned during the five weeks here – strategic and tactical methodologies, the vision of an independent air force, etc. – all happened.  And outside is the massive wing-and-prop statue. There, Lt Col Ackerman – the one who welcomed us on that first morning when we crossed the Blue Line – spoke to us again, adjuring us to always come back to this place and remember what it meant then, and what it means today, and what it means to each and every one of us. We were standing by flights is two rows – he announced, “Morehouse Class, about face!”  

We all turned and our flight commanders walked through our ranks, pinning us with the Wing-and-Prop pin. Maj Haigh had something to whisper to each person as he pinned them, and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that when I overhear him say to the person near me (he was speaking quietly and said this to everyone), “Welcome to my Air Force”, my eyes welled up. I know how much the Air Force means to him, and when he says “MY Air Force,” he means it.  It was a great approbation.  When he came to me, he stopped, smiled, and said, “Rabbi, I’m glad you were here. Welcome to my Air Force.” Wow.

We marched back to the campus, went to the DFAC for breakfast, and changed into our Blues.  We did our last parade practice while the visiting family members were briefed in Boyd (Let THEM take a nap there!) about the graduation. When we were done and all sweated up, we had to march to the practice pad to sit out in the sun and watch the six best flights compete in a drill competition. They weren’t the best flights; they were political choices. Who cares…

After lunch, we went to a dedication of one of the dormitories (not ours) to the class exemplar, General Morehouse (hence, “Morehouse Class”). About the most boring thing EVER.  At 1430, we walked to Polifka Theater for graduation. 

At Graduation - Lt Coombs (my roomate) and Lt Nichols

Graduation - the entire class (all 290 officers)

This is a MASSIVE theater – must sit a thousand people – and it was actually a very moving ceremony. No one from Papa Flight made Distinguished Graduate, which shocked us to no end, but once again, by this point I don’t think anyone cares. Our squadron one Honor Squadron, so my certificate at least lists that… What I DON’T understand is why we couldn’t go straight from the graduation back to the parade field, do the parade, and LEAVE!!! Why are they keeping us here for another day???

After graduation, everyone went back to the campus, back to the dorms, and dispersed with their families for dinner off base. Except me. I went in to the DFAC and I was THE ONLY person from the ENTIRE CLASS who ate dinner that night on base. Which ended being incredible! I walked into our side of the DFAC, and it was populated with BOT students. I couldn’t eat with them! So I walked into the other side (I had never been there in five weeks) and it was mostly empty. I began looking for a place to sit down when suddenly I hear, “Chaplain, sit here with me.”  It was Chaplain McDonald, the assistant OTS chaplain, sitting at the staff table.  Let me explain: in each of these two rooms, there are dozens of four-person tables for the students, and a long row of tables at the head for the staff. For five weeks we have been sitting under the glaring gaze of that table. Not only that, but while we had been silent, sitting at tight-meal attention, they were yucking it up, talking and laughing the whole time. The staff table was like the Holy of Holies! And there is Chaplain McDonald, beckoning me… I glanced at the two colonels and the handful of majors and looked back to McDonald and mouthed, “I can’t sit there!”  He looked down the table and said, “Colonel, is it okay if that chaplain sits with me?”  The colonel looked at me, looked at him, looked at me, looked at him, and shrugged his shoulder.  I went and sat next to McDonald AT THE STAFF TABLE(!!!!!!!) and felt like a MILLION DOLLARS! I was at the STAFF TABLE!!!!!

We had a wonderful dinner, and schmoozed for about an hour – it was the most relaxed and enjoyable meal I had in five weeks. I hated for it to end. But end it did, and I went back to my room to pack. It all ends tomorrow…

Day 31

 Thirty First Day:

I didn’t sleep well.  AC was blowing right on me (yes, I know, why am I complaining? Because I couldn’t sleep! That’s why!) and I couldn’t get comfortable. I was up and out (THIS time with a buddy!) and in the bathroom by 0430, which allowed me to daven and eat before our scheduled exercise at 0545.  Today, we are doing the MRIC – the M*A*S*H simulation.  Everyone was given roles – some were wounded patients, others were doctors, some were security guards… I was the supply officer! Typical! Let the Jewish guy be in charge of dry goods! The best part of the exercise is the three linked tents are air conditioned. Well, in theory.  Of the three, only one was working, which made conditions unbearable. After I set up my “shop” I went to investigate and realized the settings were wrong. I fixed one, but couldn’t fix the second – I was told later it was broken.

Being briefed in the OR in the MRIC tent

The  exercise was incredible. There was simulated rocket attacks and bombs and gunfire – the actors were AWESOME! Guys were coming in covered in blood, others were screaming and yelling like madmen – and in the middle, there would be a missile attack and we’d all have to dive under tables and wait for the “all clear”! I hated when it ended… But that meant we were going home…

The supply room, of which I was in charge

MREs for lunch - Lt Myers, Lt Taves (wearing BCGs - Birth Control Glasse), and Lt Chin 

My MRE - Mmm! Noodles and the ubiquitous Cheerios and Bagel Chips!

We packed up duffels and returned our cots.  We were wet and smelly and hot – and the schedule had us going straight back to the Boyd Auditorium for some final admin stuff. Yeah. Just before we boarded the buses, Capt Miller announced we could go back to our rooms and shower, but we had to be back in our flight rooms in 1.5 hours. Everyone began planning how we were going to get at least ONE pair of ABUs wached and dried in time for class! Four of us decided to go in on one machine – I would grab and start with the water and soap and our tops, while everyone else would run to their rooms to pull off their pants and change, dump their clothes into the already-running machine while I then changed… like a dream!

We met in the flight room and, one at a time, we went across the hall to an empty classroom and had our final evaluations with Major Haig.  By this time, I had already realized how ultimately insignificant the “grade” for COT is – no matter how much they built up the importance of your formal record, it was like your elementary school teacher threatening you with your “permanent record” – no one cares how you did in COT. We are all commissioned officers because we all have something the military needs.  Our performance in the service will dictate our advancements, not this.  Additionally, I am a Guardsman and we operate differently anyway… That having been said, my evaluation was what I expected.  Did well, could have done better, Blah Blah Blah…

Maxwell Air Force Base Officer's Club 

At 1730 we transited to the Officers Club for Dining In.  This is the big “final” dinner, with all the customs and, dare I say, silliness of officer traditions.  More importantly, there was a cash bar, and this was my first drink in five weeks! The Glenlivet was delicious! I had arranged with the head of the kitchen (who used to live in Atlanta and worked with Rabbi Feldman in their kosher kitchen so knew what my issues were!) to have my SEALED MRE microwaved and brought to my table still taped shut. While everyone was eating their nice dinners, I – once again – was eating my MRE! WHEN WILL IT END???

My MRE at the Officers Club - is that a bag of Bagel Chips?? And are those peanuts and a granola bar on the right? Of course it is! Kosher MRE!! 

Some of the customs are: no pointing (you point with your elbow), no clapping (you tap with your spoon) – and any violation makes you “eligible” to be called up to the Grog Bowl (two commodes on a table in the middle of the room filled with God-only-knows – one was “leaded” and the other “unleaded”).  If someone wanted, they would get up and ask for the Dinner President’s permission. He would then recite a poem in as high-falutin’ English prose he could muster, challenging the victim’s offense, and demanding he drink from the Grog.  The victim then marches to the middle of the room, salutes the president, does and about-face, pours a glass, does another about-face,  raises the glass and announces, “To the Mess!”, to which we all respond, “WHAT A MESS!” – he then drinks, puts the glass upside down on his head showing it is finished, about-faces (with the glass on his head), places the glass back on the table, about faces, and salutes the president. Yeah – that’s normal.

Major Haigh (right) and my FOIC (flight officer in charge) Lt Hakila at the Grog Bowl

Maj Haigh and Lt Hakila saluting the president of the Mess - note the Grog Bowls!

Dinner was great, and it was followed by dancing – but I wouldn’t know, as I volunteered to man the CQ table (when anyone leaves the facility they need to check out so they are accounted for). CQ tonight is a big deal, because everyone’s family are in town and they want to go visit – I didn’t have family, so I decided to be a good wing man. Yeah me! Good night!

Day 30

Thirtieth Day:

I wanted to be up by 0430 so I would have time to eat, daven and be ready to help “shlep” water to the activity sites by 0525 – activities began at 0545.  But I didn’t have an alarm clock.  I have an analog, unlit watch. So one of my flightmates assured me he would set his watch for 0430.  I heard an alarm go off, and knowing how critical every minute was, I quickly sat up and started groping in the dark for all my things – I needed to dress, get my toiletries, etc.  And I didn’t want to wake up those who were still sleeping. I did an incredible job. I had laid things out well the night before, and within three minutes I was dressed and standing outside of my tent. Where I looked at my watch, which read 0103.  It was the chime on his watch that I heard. Grrrrr.

His alarm did go off, but at 0445. I was in a rush, and I had to get to the latrine to perform my morning ablutions. We had been warned about the “Battle Buddy” system, wherein no one is to go about alone. But no one from my flight was ready to go. I figured, “Last week – who cares?” I got 50 feet when the Officer On Duty turned the corner and caught me! “Why are you walking alone? Did you not hear us say over and over again…” Whatever.

This picture does not do it justice AT ALL! The tower is 45 feet high...

Ready to climb

I davened, ate, and proceeded to the ropes course.  This may have been one of the greatest experiences of my life. The course consisted of two parts; the tower, and the course. The tower was a 45 foot high wooden tower, with a rock-climbing wall on one side, and a rappelling rope on the other. On top was a platform, with two logs jutting out (45 feet above ground). You would climb the one side, come down, then go up the inside of the tower to the top, walk out on the logs for about 15 feet and then back, and then rappel down the side. I have rock-climbed before (indoors) and I thought this would be a breeze.  However, I am older.  About 10 feet up I pulled a groin muscle and had to come down. I was so depressed – once again, I found myself unable to do something because of physical limitations.

Epic fail...

 I went up the tower and waited for my turn. It looked so easy to walk out in that log… until it was my turn to walk out in the log! Obviously, there was a safety wire above to which we were attached – but that means little when you are walking over little ants that you know are people WAY down there! 

The pole - no, that's not me, but I DID IT!!

But I did it… and it was amazing! I rappelled down… and decided I was not going to let that rock wall beat me. I walked back around and asked if I could try again.  This time I stretched out well, and then did it. So THERE, you wall!

DID IT!

 There is no way to adequately describe the ropes course and do it justice. There was a “shimmy across on one rope” part, a “shimmy across on two ropes” part, walk up a single wire bridge (at this point you are 35+ feet up), cross a wire leaning FOREWORD on a rope, then doing the same thing with the ropes switching in the middle, then crossing a wooden bridge with 3-foot gaps between each slat, then hanging and shimmying upside down like a sloth across a rope bridge, then swinging down a rope on to a cargo net, and climbing up to the platform from where you ride the zip line back to the ground. I would do it all day every day if I could.  I can’t believe they paid us to do this.

Crossing the wire - you have no idea how much those ropes and wires moved!

The bridge - no hands allowed

Waiting to zip down - as I went down, I yelled, "Who's your daddy??"

 

That afternoon, we were supposed to do “Litter Obstacle Course” - the idea is to negotiate the obstacle course (yes, the one I didn’t do two weeks earlier because of my back) but with a team of four people carrying a stretcher. That means climbing over and under obstacles without allowing the “patient” to fall.  However, much to our chagrin (NOT!) it was decided that, due to the ridiculous heat, it was unsafe to do something that strenuous.  Rather, we learned all the carry techniques under a large covered area in the shade. Aw, shucks!

It was SO hot waiting for dinner - I threw up a sunshade using my poncho, and my roommate Lt Bruce Coombs and I "chilled" (it was close to 100 degrees) 

When it was done, everyone was marginally excited at the fact they would have a hot meal.  The food service people came with food from the DFAC and set up a chow line in the “DFAC Tent” and they all got a non-MRE meal. All, that is, except for me! Once again, it was “My Own Meals” for Friedman… Shower, and in bed by 2030…

Day 29

Twenty Ninth Day:

Excitement is in the air! This afternoon we head off for our “Overnight”! This really IS Camp COT now! But first, we spent the morning back out on the parade ground practicing for Graduation.  It is SO hot. The “parade” consists of about 15 minutes of standing at attention (with sweat pouring down your face, but – seeing as you are at attention – you cannot wipe it away) and then “pass and review” where we march before the reviewing party, re-form up on the parade ground, march forward again, take the oath of office (which I did in December – why again?), throw our hats in the air, and that’s it. Not much “parading” in this parade!

At 1100, we had an address by Brig Gen Budzik, who is the base commander.  I actually like her presentation, but most of my classmates were suffering from general/heat exhaustion, and way too many people were sleeping during her speech. Not a great reflection on COT  Class 10-04!

After lunch, each functional specialty (chaplains, medical, legal) met as a group with representatives of the function. The chaplains and chaplain candidates met with Chaplain Col  Guin, the Base Chaplain for Maxwell Air Force base. I had spoken with Ch Guin before my arrival and he is a wonderful man. We have a mutual friend. Rabbi Abie Weschler was an Air Force chaplain (he has since made Aliyah and teaches at a Yeshiva in Israel) and was with him at the Academy in Colorado, and he was with me in Norfolk when he was a chaplain at Langley Air Force base in VA.  As for the meeting, there was little said that I didn’t know – after all, I have already been serving as a chaplain, albeit for a short while, while 90% of the people in the room were chaplain candidates – they have not been ordained and don’t even know if they will pursue this as a career. There was only one exciting moment – when one of the candidates kept questioning why the military will not allow him to pray in the name of Jesus. He said, “There is only one truth and one way, and that that truth and way is Jesus. If I cannot witness to everyone I speak to I am not helping them. I don’t want to “touch” people’s lives – I want to change them.”  Guys like that, for the most part, are weeded out before they get in…

We then had a lecture on Field Sanitation, in preparation of our “deployment,” followed by a lecture on our upcoming MRIC (I have NO idea what it stands for, but it is a field hospital) exercise.  It was then time to leave. Our bags (which we packed the night before) had to have EXACTLY what we were instructed to pack. That meant NO SNACKS! We loaded on to the buses and were transported to Blue Thunder.  For those of you who may remember, Blue Thunder was the area where the obstacle course was held the second week, the one I couldn’t do because my back was out. In any event, besides the obstacle course, there is also an AMAZING ropes course, as well as an entire encampment – rows and rows of hootches (12-man tent structures, in our case) and latrines and showers.  There was also the MRIC complex of three connected tent/huts – exactly like in M*A*S*H, but updated.

The male members of the flight in our "tent" sans cots

Rows of tents - there were four rows like this

Setting up the tent

We got off the buses, and the first thing we had to do was, by flight, empty our entire well-packed bag onto the floor and show that we packed what we were told.  

Showing what we brought...

Part of my pile - note all the "My Own Meals" kosher MREs...

And then repack. Then go to the toasty hot tent, turn on the ridiculously meaningless A/C unit, put down our bags, get in line at the warehouse for our cot, go back and set up out cot, and then realize that one item that was NOT on the packing list was a PILLOW! And they did not SUPPLY A PILLOW! And I cannot sleep WITHOUT A PILLOW! More on that later.

Dinner - some of my kosher MRE can be seen at the front left of the table. That's Lt Hakala, our FOIC (flight officer in charge - student leader) ripping open a pouch with his teeth! 

Everyone was issued their MRE’s before departure, and we all showered before dinner (remember, we are still wearing the same clothes from this morning’s parade practice!), changed into our PT gear, set up our folding tables and chairs, and enjoyed a wonderful MRE dinner. I was exhausted, and by 2000 I was ready for bed.  My bed providentially ended up under the AC unit (!) and I took the sleeping bag, folded it flat, put it in my extra T-shirt, and slept, without a blanket, like that. The only problem was that by 0400 it was freezing! That’s okay, the alternative was worse…

Sorry for the delay!

The last week of COT was intense, emotional, and chock full o' fun - so much so that I did not have the opportunity to finish my posts.  Upon returning home, I had a few days to finish packing up our house (the majority of which was done by my amazing wife while I was gone, even though she works full time) and then moving (and, of course, unpacking) but I WILL get the story finished! Also, I will go back and add pictures...  

Day 28

What a lazy day. No tests for which to study, no projects to prepare… I woke up earlier than I should have because the noise from the poor ROTC cadets outside was deafening. I went to breakfast at 0700, davened, and then chilled the rest of the day. I watched some movies, did some cleaning and laundry, packed for out two-day camping trip this week (more on that later) and basically took a guilt-ridden day off – guilt-ridden because I know how much work my wonderful wife is doing back at home getting us ready to move when I come back.

I am beginning to count the minutes – I’ll be home for Shabbos, and I can’t wait…

Day 27

Interesting Shabbos. The flight all went out to the Officers’ Club for an “orientation” of the customs and courtesies that apply to the club. That took 5 minutes, and then the drinking began. I toyed with the idea of walking over there at about 2000 after I davened and ate, but I decided that I had maintained a pretty nice Shabbos atmosphere for the last four weeks – why ruin it now? Turns out I didn’t miss much – and I had someone fill me in on the customs.

First of all, no pointing at the O Club. You point with your elbow. If you point with your finger, you buy the next round. Every officer must always have an RMO in their pocket. An RMO is a Round Metal Object, specifically a commemorative coin that are issued by units, bases, missions, etc. When sitting at the bar someone may take out their RMO and slap it down on the bar. That is the challenge. Everyone has to produce their RMO and whoever doesn’t have one buys the next round. Oh, by the way, if everyone DOES have one, the challenger has to buy the next round.

Enough of that. I got about nine hours of sleep, woke up at 0600, davened Shacharis, made Kiddush in my room, went to breakfast at 0700, and at 0815 I had my Bible Study – it was me, my roommate, the Conservative kid and a Baptist Chaplain Candidate – we had an AWESOME class! It went until 1000, at which time I had to attend a meeting about my role in the upcoming field training. I went back to my room at 1100, read had lunch, and took a three hour nap (!), read some more and at 1900 we went up to our flight room for our Flight Dinner. Major Haigh was there with his wife, and he had written on the board in large letters, “Rules of Engagement: No ‘Sirs’ or ‘Ma’am’” – he was dressed in jeans and we had to call him by his call sign, “Mooch” (he likes free stuff). I named his wife “Moochessa.” They had Dominos Pizza – I had Matza and tuna and granola bars… They introduced us to a role-playing game called “Mafia.” We wrapped up at 2145, and I asked if anyone wanted to introduce me to the O Club. About nine of us decided to walk over there. First of all, it took 30 minutes to walk over there. Second of all, it was 80 degrees and about 110% humidity. Third of all, the club closed at 2200. Fourth of all, it took 30 minutes to walk back as well. I was DRENCHED in sweat!

Took a shower, and realized that I had about ten movies on my computer about which I had completely forgotten. So I stayed up to about 0200 watching “Sweeny Todd.” That was my Melava Malka!

Day 26

Today was a completely wasted day. We could have cut the program short by a day and I would have been home with my beloved family a day earlier.

We parade drilled from 0600 to 0700, had breakfast, and then did basically nothing until 1700. Literally. We had a class on the importance of computer security and how “loose lips sink ships” yadda yadda yadda… And then nothing.

Our flight won athletic flight again – that is three weeks in a row. And our squadron won Squadron of the Week – that is two weeks in a row. That is the most exciting thing I can tell you.

Tonight is Officers’ Club Orientation. That means that the entire class will go to the club at 1900, hear a 45 minute briefing from the commander on the customs of drinking at the O Club, and when he’s done the drinking will commence. I explained that I couldn’t make it, as Shabbos begins at 1938, and I was excused. I offered to walk there (a 20 minute walk) to be with my flight members (and if someone had a pitcher of beer… well, couldn’t hurt!) – and then I realized what a terrible way to spend a Shabbos night. So I am stying home tonight – I’ll learn a little, and then get some sorely needed sleep.

Good Shabbos

Day 24

Welcome to Camp COT! 

Yesterday was the last REAL day of academics (we had to deliver our brief), and now it’s like Camp COT has begun. Basically, the rest of our stay here will be spent doing more “fun” activities (and Parade – more on that in minute), so let the FUN BEGIN!

We had a late wake up (0530) and we met in our flight room for a boxed breakfast. They wouldn’t give me a box, insisting that I have a kosher MRE (which was Beef Stew, or something). I planned ahead, bringing a South Beach bar, granola bars, small boxes of cereal – and coffee. MMmmm.

At 0700 we marched out to the parade field and were briefed about parade. As you have seen in numerous movies, the graduation concludes with a formal “parade.” The entire class (289) is formed up into squadrons of 45+. We are to march onto the field to a brass band, where we go through all the pomp and circumstances – flags, salutes, precision marching and turns, etc. They asked for volunteers for column leaders (those who stand in front of their line of troops – four columns per squadron) and of course, I shot my hand up. I want to SEE the action! I want to be in the front, not just another faceless airmen among a sea of airmen (how was THAT for a mixed metaphor!). We drilled for three hours – my back was killing me, but I loved it. It was just so cool – it was like every military movie I ever saw.

We got back to our flight room for a “class” on PCS (permanent change of station) – no one really cared as it will not be tested… We ate at 1100, and then marched a mile out to the Project X facility for the LRC (leadership reaction course – see yesterday’s post). And example of an LRC course is the one I lead, in which there was a large pool of water (60’ x 40’) with concrete pillars throughout. When we get there, we are told that it is a blown out bridge that we need to traverse, and all we have are three planks (two 8’ and one 5’). We have 20 minutes to formulate and execute a plan to get all six team members across the “river”. There are all sorts of penalties, like if anything drops in the water or touching the “banks” – for any penalty, everyone has to stop for 60 seconds. We are graded on delegation, execution… general leadership. While we failed the mission, I received very high scores for leadership (which is the primary goal) – but it would have been nice to win. On another one I was on, we did win, which felt awesome. We did this until 1730, and then marched back for dinner (in our sweaty gross clothes!).

I slept well.

Day 23

This morning I attended my first, and last, Physical Training here at COT. As you may recall, I got hurt over the first weekend, and they started PT the second week. The third week I was still on profile for Monday and Tuesday, and the rest of the week there was no PT. Monday was the 5K, and today was the last PT. So I can say I got at least one in!!

After breakfast we had to present our briefing. It was an informative briefing, not persuasive. My topic was “Water and the Arab/Israel Conflict.” The rules were it had to be between 5 to 9 minutes. Less or more was an instant fail. A single word that was persuasive, like “I think…” was an instant fail. There is a video screen in the back of the room as well as the front, so you had a “crutch” – but if you used it more than just in passing, you were dinged for that.

I was the last one to present. For reasons that none of us can understand, 70% of the class busted on time. THERE IS A LARGE CLOCK IN THE BACK OF THE ROOM, PEOPLE!!! In any event, I did my brief, and as I was doing it I realized that the slides were too busy for the Air Force – they want no more than seven bullets, with no more than seven words per bullet. In addition, I ended the brief by saying, “This concludes my brief. Are there any question?” The Flt/CC asked “Did you say ‘Brief’ or ‘Briefing’?” DOH!! I said Brief instead of briefing, which is an automatic point deduction. Bottom line: between the busy slides and the wrong ending, I ended up with a “High Sat” (high satisfactory) insetad of an “Excellent.”

Afterwards, we put on our Mess Dress (that is the suit jacket with the silver bars on the shoulders and all the other “Bling”) for our class picture – I haven’t had a class picture since 8th Grade (that was in 1976, for those keeping count). Next, we went back to our flight room to get a briefing on the LRC (Leadership Reaction Course). You may recall me complaining about the fact that when I was on medical profile, the class did something called Project X that I had to observe rather than participate in. The LRC is held on the same course, but there is a designated leader and his leadership skills are evaluated by staff. We will be doing this over two days, completeing a total of 16 courses. I can’t wait!

The day was capped off with three of the most boring hours of non-graded classes EVER. It was torture. After dinner, there was a meeting of all the chaplains and chaplain candidates who wanted to know more about Judaism and the sensitivities they need to have in dealing with Jewish airmen. It was great. I invited them all to my last Bible Study (to be held on Saturday at 0815) and they asked if it could be followed by another such informative meeting. I was honored.

Day 20

Another wonderful Shabbos. First of all, wearing by “Big Boy Clothes” made me feel much more in the “spirit of the day.” I went to breakfast and then had a nice, long Shacharis – I sang Hallel, read the Torah and Haftorah out loud… It just felt wonderful. I took a short nap in the morning, and spent most of the day studying. We received 3rd Class status this weekend, which means that we can not only whisper to each other during meals, but on weekends we can go off campus on to the base itself. My whole class decided to go out to dinner at a base club a) because they could, and b) because it was one of our flight members’ birthday. Not only could I not go, but I had planned my second “Old Testatment Bible Study” for 1700. Besides the ROTC kid (who, coincidentally, had off then for services), two Baptist chaplain candidates joined me for a discussion of Korach. It was great! They love it! They suggested that next week we do it after breakfast to avoid all the conflicts; many people told me during the week that they were coming, but then went out to dinner – since breakfast is mandatory, everyone will be around for an 0815 Bible Study. We’ll see how it goes.

Now we have TV priviliges in the Common Area of our dorm. After Shabbos, someone decided to put in “Year One” and we all sat around to watch. Stupidest movie since the dawn of man. But it felt normal watching a movie on a Saturday night…

Day 19

This morning was the PFA (Physical Fitness Assessment) – this is the one that counts. I woke up at 0415 to give myself extra time to stretch. We got out on the track, did a few more warm-ups, and partnered up with the same guy from Quebec Flight that I was with the first week. He did his push ups first and then it was my turn. My left arm has been hurting me for a while, but I am not reporting it because I DO NOT want to be put on a medical profile again. I was worried how I would do; last test, I did 35 push ups and 35 sit ups. I had come to COT doing about 50 sit ups and 40 push ups, and during my “down” week, when I couldn’t go out with the flight for PT, I was back up to 45 sit ups and about 40 push ups. Well, it was my turn and pushed out 42 push ups… better than last test, and given my arm pain, I was satisfied. Then I had to hold his legs for his situps, which took some energy. I mention that because when it was my turn to do my sit ups, I couldn’t push out more than 32! What was wrong with me?? It had to be the strain of the push ups and the effort to hold him down… My hope was doing better on the run (which counts the most, anyway). I started off at a comfortable pace, with everyone pretty much passing me. I was working harder than the last test, but confident I could pull it off. By the mid point (3/4 mile), I realized I was on pace to do much better than ever before. I began passing people, thinking of them as cars on the highway. As I turned the corner for the last stretch, I pushed out with all I had and crossed the line at 12:28, a full minute faster than the PFB I did the first week, and a minute and a half better than the test I took in March. I was thrilled! While I wasn’t close to guys like my roommate, who did it in between 9 and 9.5 minutes, I’m almost 47 and never ran a day in my life before last June – it felt awesome. I better keep up the rush, because on Monday we have a mandatory 5K…! 

The rest of the day was great. Today was our first day in our Blues. YEAH! Big Boy clothes! A real shirt and pants and shoes – okay, so the hat makes me look like an ice cream truck guy… but it was SO much better than the ABUs or the AWFUL PT shorts! We looked sharp!

We had a role-playing class on counseling, in which we joined with our arch-nemesis Quebec Flight and acted out scenarios and critiqued the performances. After lunch we had another joint class, this time on mentoring. We then had a few hours of study time (our last graded written test is on Monday), followed by Flight Hall Call (Flight-level pep rally) in which our flight was awarded Best Athletics for the second week in a row and I was awarded Best Contributor to the Flight (voted on by the flight). That was followed by Class Hall Call (the whole class has a pep rally) in which our sqaudron was awarded Acdemic Squadron of the week and then Honor Flight (the highest award for the week a sqaudron can receive).

I got back after dinner to my room to prepare for Shabbos and then picked up the Jewish ROTC kid and headed to the RAC. I received a package of Meal Mart Gefillte Fish in one of my MREs (it was Pesach), so I saved it for Shabbos. When I was on chow line for dinner, I grabbed a few packets of cocktail sauce and picante sauce to help out with the fish – it was actually very good! We had a beautiful Kabbalas Shabbos with the two of us singing and clapping – as nice as it was for me, I know that for him – he is in a brutal, dehumanizing program – it was a spiritual oasis. I really felt like I was doing my job.

Day 18

Boring, boring, boring, boring…

The day started off with a “sleep-in” morning – we woke up at 0450 instead of 0430. No PT today; instead, it was the official weight and height check for tomorrow’s PFA (Physical Fitness Assessment). This is the one that counts. Good news! I lost two inches off my waist (from 36” to 34” – even though I don’t think I was really 36” when I got here three weeks ago - it was just Shabbos bloat) and I lost 5.5 pounds (now, 179.5).

After that we changed into our uniforms and went to breakfast followed by the MOST BORING DAY EVER. Nine hours fo class, seven of which were held in the Boyd Auditorium (as opposed to our classroom with out Flt/CC where it is interactive). There are many names for the Auditorium: Bored Auditorium, the Big Red Bedroom (all trhe chairs are upholstered red)… you get the idea. And the lectures were about the most boring topics possible: how to properly supervise subordinates, how to write assessments, how promotions take place… AAARRGGGHHH!

Tomorrow should be interesting – first of all, it is the first time that the Uniform of the Day is our Blues (the sharp uniform you see in the movies: blue pants, short sleeve blue shirt open at the neck (no tie), shoulder boards, flight cap, and HIGHLY poliched shoes. It will be nice to be out of the heavy ABUs considering it is in the upper 90s and humid every day. Secondly, I have the PFA test, wherein we will see how much better I can do from my first test. I am determined to impress my flight.

I scheduled a “Bible Study” for Saturday afternoon before dinner. Last week I did it, but word had not gotten out; now, all the Chaplains and Chaplain Candidates got the word, and it should be interesting!

Day Seventeen

WHAT AN AMAZING MORNING!! Today was WELPS (NO idea what that stands for…), the first military activity in which I have been able to participate.

We woke up at 0430 and formed up downstairs by 0450. We marched to our Flight Room (where our flight has all of our classes – it’s our “safe place”) for a breakfast of MREs. I took the opportunity to daven quickly – may have been a bit early, but it was the only time before Chatzos… I then had a delicious breakfast of Cheese Tortellini and Pinto Beans along with a cup of coffee. As is usually the case in the military, we rushed downstairs at 0530… just to form up and wait for 30 minutes for the buses to arrive.

We got the WELPS field, and after forming up again, we fell out to find our Flt/CC. WELPS is a leadership exercise wherein 6-8 people participate (one assigned as leader, one as asst leader, and the rest are the team), there is a timekeeper, three observers (who are taking notes on how the leader, the asst leader, and the team all operate) and safeties, whose job it is to watch for heat exhaustion and penalties. I was a participant in the first one. Using compasses we had to navigate to four check points. Each coordinate sheet had two possible coordinates, depending on how you answered a question on something we studied – get the answer right, and you were heading in the right direction (assuming you could read your compass). Get it wrong, and you were up a creek. At each successfully acquired checkpoint we were given the coordinates for the next one. Our mission was to get to the fourth checkpoint and spell out FH 11 for the incoming helicopter to find us. We were given 6 2x4s and 4 cinder blocks. Oh – and we were told that between stops 2 and 3, there would be enemy snipers and patrols, so we had to stay down. Did I forget to mention that we could step on a mine and lose our legs? All of these, of course, were simulated by the Flt/CC suddenly yelling, “BAAM! Mortar! You, you and you are incapacitated!” or “Sniper Fire! You were just hit in the leg and can’t use your left foot!”

It was amazing – shooting an azimuth with the compass, crawling through the grass to the check points… unfortunately, we didn’t fulfill the mission.

For the second one, I was an observer. My job was to watch the team’s interactions, and report during the debriefing. The team successfully negotiated that mission, carrying a garbage can of “special liquid” through the check points, and then finding a bomb and placing it carefully in to the liquid in a manner that it would not touch the sides of the garbage can, and then get it to the final check point. Well done.

I participated in the third one as well (clearly, the Major was making up for the fact that I hadn’t participated in either of the two previous outdoor events, Project X or the Assault Course), once again, as a participant. Our job was to transfer ammunition and medicine to a place where they would be picked up by a convoy. We were doing so well that on one of the last ammo runs, I was “blown up” by a “mortar,” leaving me legless. I started rolling to the check point, a la Monty Python (which got quite the response), but it was taking too long, so the last two people standing grabbed me by the arms and pulled me to the check point, belly down. Not cool. But we completed the mission!

I was the Asst Leader for the fourth one. Four of our eight person team were "unconscious" and we had to carry them to the check point. However, as we were taking the last two, one of my team was shot in the leg, and the other developed PTSD, leaving me and a girl to get the three of them there. We did it in time, but when we said, “Mission Accomplished” he said, keep going. We racked our brains trying to figure out what we were missing. Finally the whistle blew, and he said, “The proper verbiage is ‘Mission Completed’” CHEAP!!!!!!

It was amazing. I wish I could say the same for the rest of the day. After lunch we had four hours of lectures that were enough to kill a man. And now I am doing homework. Today is the official half-way point in the program… The feeling is bittersweet.

Day 16

How I love 0430. NOT.

As I wrote earlier, violating my medical profile (and excersing) is a big no-no. I found out why. Right now, I am covered for the back pain for as long as I have it. If this continued for the next 30 years, the military would pay for my care. However, if I aggravate it by doing something like, say, exercise, then they are off the hook – but you could see how messy it could get.

Anyway, I am feeling 100% better than last week… but I would still love to be able to work out at my own pace for as long as I can. On Wednesday there is a big field excercise that I do not want to miss, so I will work out in the gym today and tomorrow and have my profile cancelled after that, leaving me finally able to participate with my class again!

After my work out (80 sit ups, 40 push ups – I can’t get that those numbers up! – and a 1.5 mile run with no knee pain), I went to my room, showered, davened, and we all went to the class room for our big written test (one of two). I hate tests and I get very anxious. All in all, it was okay. I didn’t do as well as I hoped – I got an 88.6… oh, well…

The rest of the day was painfully boring. They are cramming information at us at a rediculous pace. We had six hours of lectures AFTER the test, and more of the same tomorrow. I broke down and bought some No-Doze tonight to keep myself awake.

I got my service jacket back from the tailor – the last thing I was waiting on – and “blinged” it out with all the acoutrements. Looks sharp as a tack, if I may say so myself. Pictures soon…

Day 15

Only two more weekends left (depending on when they graduate us on Friday – I may be stuck here for the last Shabbos…). I went to the gym and after a half-hour warmup, I quickly knocked out 45 situps (total after three sets: 85) and 40 pushups (total after three sets: 70). I am now convinced that that was the problem with my back – they only give you one minute to warm up before the PT. That may be great for the 20 year olds, but not for this old body. I suppose I will just have to get up at 0400 instead of 0430 and stretch for a half hour before PT…

I got on the treadmill and ran for a mile at 6.5 MPH, and then my knee started hurting – that’s okay, I know I can do the running – I was really just testing out my back, and it felt fine.

I spent the rest of the day studying for the test tomorrow. I’ll let you know how that goes.

Day 13/14

I went back to the chiropracter for a 0700 appointment. He is leaving next week on leave, so this was my last chance at an adjustment.

I returned, and once again I had to meet my flight at another facility, this time the Project Thunder Assualt Course. It is an obstacle course from hell. I am reminded of an Arab expression: “You may forget with whom you’ve laughed but you will never forget with whom you’ve cried.” I feel that my flightmates are doing things that I am not, and that it is causing a certain detachment, a chasm that is getting harder and harder to bridge. Much of this may just be my self-pity, as I am pretty unhappy about the circumstances. I just trust that there is a reason the Good Lord has sidelined me… Oh, well.

Before lunch, we had a ceremony called “Tattoo” – I always heard of them, but never understood what body painting had to do with marching and bugles. We learned that the word "tattoo" is an alteration of Dutch taptoe "tap-shut" (closing time for taverns), based on tap "spigot, tap" + toe "shut." The Dutch bugle call summoning soldiers back to camp meant "closing time" to tavern owners. The US term "taps," the bugle call played after tattoo or at funerals, apparently stems from the same Dutch word. In our case, the tattoo was the formal transfer of authority to march unsupervised from the base commander, Lt Col Ackerman, to each squadron leader. It was very dramatic and militaristic.

In the afternoon, we had a squadron-level “pep rally” followed by a class-wide pep rally. At the first one, we were sure we would win Flight of the Week. We did win the Athletic Award (all based on my contribuitions – NOT!), but we lost the Academic Award, which is weighed higher – so we lost Flight of the Week. Unfortunately, at the class rally, our squadron lost as well on all three awards – Athletic, Academic, and Honor, all three going to the Falcons. It is amazing how I am getting caught up in the competitiveness of this!

The rest of the afternoon was studying for our first major written test, to be administered on Monday. At one point, I needed a break, so I went to the RAC to look at the Torah reading for Shabbos. As I was sitting there, a Lt Col walks in with a captain, and they are talking to some unseen person. I jumped to my feet and, following the requisite, “Good Afternoon, Sir,” I asked if he needed the room. He said, “No, I am just showing a new ROTC trainee, who is Orthodox, the facilities.” I said, “Sir, conveniently I happen to be an Orthodox Rabbi!” He calls in the young trainee and I couldn’t believe my eyes. This was a young man (I found out later he is 21) who looked MAYBE 15 years old – short, glasses, BIG black velvet Yarmulkah, a stutter… I was blown away. I stalked to the three of them for an hour, discussing the options here for food and Shabbos, etc. It turns out that he is in my building, so we agreed I would pick him up and bring him to the RAC for services tonight and Havdala tomorrow.

When I got him at 1920 to go to “shul,” he had a bag of homemade Challah rolls with him. I liked him already! Over “dinner” (tuna fish and Matza with jelly – remember, I have dinner before Shabbos begins), he told me his story. He grew up in Atlanta, and moved to Monsey in 5th grade. He learned at Yeshiva Spring Valley and Sharei Torah, and then he went to Ner Israel. He wasn’t doing too well, and then his Chavrusa left to learn in Israel after Shavuos (this was a few years ago). That summer, he was bored and was surfing the Internet when he saw an offer to get something for free if you filled out some information. It was n Army recruiter site. He was contacted by the recruiter, and when he explained all of his religious limitations, the recruiter assured him that none of those where a problem, and he should come down and speak to them. He did, and was intrigued. Long story short, he signed up for ROTC (he is in college studying computer science) which requires no commitment. If you go through the program and don’t like it – either during or after – you walk away. In any event, he explained the four year program as a bell curve, where the summer of the second year is the worst part – when the come to Maxwell for four weeks of hell. We watch these guys here, and are in awe of what they put these kids through. I have great respect for this kid. He has a heck of an attitude. At one point he told me that the one thing he worries about is a Shidduch. He can’t imagine a Jewish girl who will want the life of the wife of an Air Force officer. I assured him that anyone who is doing what he is doing probably wouldn’t be happy with the typical Bais Yaakov girl anyway – the one that will want him is the one he will want, as well.

Crazy world.

On Saturday morning, after I had breakfast and davened, I decided to test out my back. The chiropractor had suggested that I try doing 20 pushup and 20 situps and run for .5 miles, and see how that feels before I start doing PT on Monday. So I got on the floor and did 5 situps. Felt okay. I did 10 more. Then I tried 5 pushups, and then 10 more. By the end of the day I had done over 85 situps and 65 situps. I WAS BACK!!! My whole perspective changed! I was in such a good mood! We went outside to drill at 1800 and I was right in there with them, the first time since Monday…

In the middle of drilling, Major Haigh (the Flt/CC) pulled up and challanged us all to a push-up contest. I told him I was up for it, and he said, “Aren’t you still under profile?” I said I was taking myself off profile. He said, “Under whose authority? You are an asset of the US Air Force, and they have determined you are not to excerise until June 10 – if you do, I could have you brought up for a court-martial.” Hmmmm.

I went back to my room, and looked at next week’s calendar. On Wednesday (the 10th) we have another cool event that I WILL NOT MISS. I decided to work out myself in the gym on Monday and Tuesday and get my Profile canceled by Wednesday… We’ll see how that goes…

Day 12

0430 wake up – and yes, still hurting. I went straight to the gym – no point in marching out to the pad just to have to walk back again. At 0545, I returned to my room, changed into my uniform, went to the RAC to daven Shacharis, and waited downstairs for the base taxi (they are free – sort of like a shuttle service) to take me to the doctor.

I saw a PA (Physician Assistant), who simply listened to my compliant, and then ordered some 800mg Ibuprofin and Robaxin. I said, “Any chance I could see a chiropracter?” She seemed surprised. Turns out there is one there, but first she sent me for x-rays. After the x-rays, I went to the chiroprater desk (the place is like a Doctor Mall – it’s a long beautiful atrium with desks for each specialty – awesome! The radiology office already had the order for the x-rays – and when I get to the end – the pharmacy – I just scan my DoD card and the order comes up… Wow!) and they got me in right away. The doctor looked at my x-rays (they were already in the system ready to pull up), and he did an adjustment. I IMMEDIETLY felt better.

When I got back, I had to meet my flight at the Project X facility. There is no easy way to explain this place, but I will try. The most important part of this entire course is teaching leadership, personnel management, and problem solving skills. At this facility there are about 20 bays, each with a specific challenge. Our flight was assigned four of them, and I returned in time for the last two. My particpation was limited to non-physical parts, like time-keeping and observing.

The challenges work like this. Six of the 15 flight members are chosen to be the participants, one person is timekeeper, one person is observer, and the rest are safetys. The participants are given a briefing fo what they will do, and their limitations, and then they have 20 minutes to finish. Easy, right.

The first one (their third) that I saw consisted of the following: A pool of water 4’ by 6’ ending at a wall about 6’ high. They had a 4x4 that was about 9’ long, and two long pieces of rope. The water represented a lake that was highly radioactive, and they had to get all 6 people and all the stuff (wood and ropes) across the water and over the wall in 20 minutes. Nothing could touch the wall (except for the top 6 inches) or the sides or the water, or you got an immediete 30 second penalty. It was unbelievable. They failed the mission, after which an analysis was done over what they did right and what they did wrong, etc. I am not allowed to say much more, as we were sworn to secrecy over the contents of the facility. Sorry.

We got back and went to lunch at 1200. As I shared earlier, we have to sit at a modified attention while eating. That means sitting only in the front 2/3 of the chair, back straight and feet flat on the ground. That has been hurting my back terribly, and I received a waiver from my Flt/CC. Well, as I am sitting there with my back on the chair, one of the staff members sitting at the staff table yells across the room, “Captain Friedman! (they all know me!) You are at modified attention! GET YOUR BACK OF THAT CHAIR!!” I did so, and when I was finished, I walked up to the staff table to explain. BIG mistake. The protocol, when approaching the staff table, is to greet everyone first, then ask for permission to make a statement or ask a question. When done, you say, “Will that be all, sir/ma’am?” They say, “That will be all” and you say the greeting of the day (“Good morning, sir/ma’am” or “Good evening…). If outside, you salute when saying the greeting. But it gets more confusing when you have different ranks there – for example, if there was a Major and three Captains it’s “Good afternoon, ma’am, good afternoon, gentlemen.” When I went up there, I was still so fluttered from being jacked up in front everyone (“jacked up” is a BIG military expression – get used to it!). I saw a female major and a slew of male captains. I said, “Good afternoon, ma’am, good afternoon, gentlemen.” He said, “Do you not see the major next to me?” She immedietly had my back, saying, “He greeted me.” I told him that I had a profile (a waiver) for my back and that sitting in that position was very painful. He said, “Let me see the profile.” I knew enough to carry it on me at all times - but I thought I had it in my pocket – and when it wasn’t there I was just getting more and more flustered. I pulled out the pouch we all wear around our necks that carry our documents and gave him the profile. He said, “It doesn’t say anything here about sitting. Have the seargent (the medic) update this.” I said that I had received permission from my Flt/CC (who outranks this bozo), to which he said, “Fine, I’ll get with him.” Following protocol, I said, “Will that be all, sir?”

“That will be all.”
“Good afternoon, sir.”
“What about the major?”
“Good afternoon, Major, good afternoon, sir.”
“What about everyone else at the table?”
“Good afternoon, ma’am, good afternoon, gentlemen.”
“Captain, did you not notice the colonel sitting right next to you??” (He was sitting with his back to me, so I didn’t even notice him)
“Good afternoon, sir, good afternoon, ma’am, good afternoon, gentlemen”
“Good afternoon”

I walked out of there sweating like a dog…

Day 11

0430 wake up, and still hurting. Once again, I went with my flight out to the PT. However, the trainer forgot to announce that those with a waiver should fall out. So I tried stretching with everyone, only to suffer through excruciating pain. I laid down on my back to ease the pain, and as I lay there a tear rolled down my cheek. I was so sad. I did not come here to sit on the sideline. I came here to do great. I came here to prove to myself that I could do this. I came here to show my kids that it is never too late to reinvent yourself and improve yourself. I came here to make my kids proud of me. And here I am, lying on the floor incapacitated.

The instructor finally realized his mistake, and when I gave him my waiver, he sent me to the gym to do something, anything. Which I didn’t. I went to the medic and told him the Naproxen wasn’t working and that I wanted to see a doctor. We set up a time at the base Medical Group for 7:00 tomorrow.

The day was a boring day of non-stop lectures. The only good news is that my cheer is the talk of the entire class – especially the “Who’s Your Daddy? Papa Flight!” part!! Additionally, we are now offically the “Papa Smurfs!”

I just wrote a new one:

Your momma takes good care of you
Her smile is like the sun

Your grandma feeds you lots of food
Until you weigh a ton

Your grandpa takes you everywhere
He’s always so much fun

But your PAPA’s here to educate
We’ll show you how it’s done

(Flight leader): WHO’S YOUR DADDY?
(Flight): PAPA FLIGHT!!!!!!