Day Two

I found out yesterday what our daily schedule will be. It is too good to be true. The morning begins at 0730, but that is when the 20 minutes for prayer is held. There is a Jewish Chapel in our building, and I now have my own time and place to pray every day. How awesome is that! Class starts at 0800, and they consist of 50-minute blocks and 10-minute breaks. At 1100 we break for 90 minutes, and the day ends at 1630 (4:30 PM).  Then, most of us will be working out, followed by dinner and homework/studying, such that it is. Wow. This is SO not COT!

I was chosen to be one of the drivers. I took a computer-based safety course, and am now authorized to drive one of the vans. That means I’ve got “wheels” to go back to my new best friend, Publix!

Today’s schedule was a whole-day seminar on a program for working with couples, given by a guest instructor. We almost finished it; the rest will be tomorrow. He has a great way of teaching – and a great way of talking! I learned a new Southern expression from him – “If something goes caddywampus…” Now, I looked it up, because I couldn’t believe that one. Turns out there are TWO versions of it:

Caddiwompas: The state of being grossly out of alignment, skewed, or uneven.
Example: There was so much weight piled on one side of the van, it sat caddiwompas.

Caddywampus: It means kittycorner, or askew.
Example: The tornado blew the house all caddywampus.
The liquor store is caddywampus from the Lovely Mullet Hair Say-lon.

(http://www.slangsite.com/slang/C.html)

I am still not sure which one he meant.

His other great comment of the day was when he said, “That would not be equalitarian… or egalitrarian… or something ‘etarian!”

Good night! (I’ll add pictures tomorrow)

Day One

What a miserable night’s sleep.  I miss my wife and I miss my pillows (Melissa is saying, “Not necessarily in that order!”). I was told to report to the school house by 0730 for a “social” with my classmates, so I got out of bed at 0600 (I was up anyway; see supra) to give myself time to shower, shave, pray, and get downstairs to check out the daily continental breakfast.

The breakfast they put out is almost all kosher – kosher individually packaged bagels, cream cheese, cereal, kosher individually packaged muffins, fruit… but no Fiber One (my daily breakfast of choice/necessity).  We’ll work on that later.

I got to the school house and began meeting my fellow students. There are eighteen of us, and studying parallel with us is the group of Chaplain’s Assistants (enlisted troops who are assigned to… assist the chaplains!). We’ll be doing training with them at the end of the six weeks. After a half hour of schmoozing, we were all invited to the school auditorium to be introduced to the school leadership. Following that, we went down to our classroom, where we got to meet the Air Force Chaplain School director, who would be our primary teacher. Ch, Major James Hamel, a Catholic Priest, is a great teacher, a superb officer, and very decent man. I am honored to learn from him. His first lecture was on the Role of a Military Chaplain, and he just reaffirmed why I love this job.

The front of the Armed Forces Chaplaincy Center. It is a horseshoe, with the center part being Army, the right being Air Force and the left being Navy.

This is the left side (Navy) - note the large blue anchor to the left of the door...

This, of course, is the right entrance. Can we not agree that an F-22 on a bombing run is WAY cooler than a big, blue anchor? (The Army has nothing in front of their door - I suppose they would say they are too cool for anything...)

Speaking of jobs, one of the items of the day was the assignment of class positions. While I am the oldest student (by at least 15 years), I am not the oldest in rank. So Ch Zimmerman (no, not Jewish) is the class president. As I looked down the list of positions, there was only one that jumped out at me. As Ch Hamel went down the list asking for volunteers for different roles, I waited. Finally it was my turn. “Treasurer?” he said, and my hand shot up. The whole room erupted in laughter. I sheepishly said, “Hey, I’m just trying to uphold the stereotype!”

Ch Hamel, while a devout chaplain, has been in the Air Force long enough to have picked up ALL the cool slang, and we are learning new phrases already. For example, he was trying to explain “Running from the flag pole,” which is how you describe guys who have let down their guard in terms of military customs and courtesies. To explain it, he recounted a story relating to his deployment to Afghanistan when a group of soldiers approached, “armed-up” (wearing their flak jackets and other military paraphernalia) and walking full of “battle rattle” (you get it). When they saw him, they just yelled out, “Hey, Chap!”  They were “running from the flag pole.”

After class, me and two new friends went on a 2-mile run and then, after showering, we went shopping. Now that I have a kitchen, and a nice break for lunch, I will be doing all my own cooking and eating – YEAH! No more MRE’s for dinner!! Toto, we’re not at COT anymore!!

They first drove to Chik-fil-a for dinner, where I dutifully sat and mediated a debate between the Mormon and the Southern Baptist as to who is a real Christian and who isn’t. Then we went to Walmart. My primary objective was to find Morningstar Farms products – which they were out of. But then I found a kosher food aisle, and stocked up on Tradition soups, as well as fruit, tuna, salad, milk, and Fiber One (!).  After that, we found a Publix, perhaps the BEST grocery store for kosher food outside of a large Jewish community. Not only did they have Morningstar Farms, but they had a whole kosher frozen food section! I stocked up on those kosher burrito things and some Meal Mart frozen foods. It was awesome. When I came home, I ate and went to sleep. Hopefully, I’ll sleep better.

If you're reading this on Facebook, be sure to check out the blog: http://rabbiofficertraining.blogspot.com/

Travel Day

Not much to report this pre-Day One.  Flying in the uniform of United States Air Force officer has its perks.  When I went through security, I kept setting off the detector. Had I been wearing anything less than a uniform, they would have done a full body cavity search on me. I went through five times before they realized that I still had on my watch. Thank you, Mr. Attentive TSA Guy. As I was gathering my things, another TSA guy said, “Thanks for your service, sir.” Being a nice guy, I answered back, “Thanks for YOUR service.” He paused, and responded, “Yeah, but you guys have much cooler toys!”  I couldn’t wreck the moment and tell him I was a chaplain…

In Charlotte, as I waited for my connector and watched the Grizzlies go down in flames, I saw a young Air Force enlisted guy. Doing the good “Chaplain” thing, I went over to him and asked how he was doing. He seemed so glad that an officer was addressing him in a civil tone of voice. Its moments like that when I realize the role – and value – of a chaplain to the average troop. They are so happy to have someone pat them on back and ask how they are doing. A smile from an officer goes a long, long way.

I landed in Columbia, and took a cab to the base. Fort Jackson is the largest Army facility in the country. 52% of all male soldiers and 80% of all female soldiers are initially trained here. All in all, they train over 55,000 soldiers a year. One of its many functions is to house the Joint Armed Forces Chaplaincy Center. As a result of the Base Closure and Realignment (BRAC – don’t ask how that equals BRAC; it just does!) closings, the military decided that all the chaplains should be trained in one facility, rather than three separate ones. There is now one building with three wings, one for each branch. So while we all train separately, we share the same general facility (ie, there is one set of chapels, one break room, etc). 

I am housed at the Fort Jackson Inn, a military housing facility across and down the street from the school house.

The Fort Jackson Inn (my room faces the back)

My room is outstanding! It is a like a Residence Inn room, with a kitchen, dining area, living/study area, and a separate bedroom. No roommate! This is truly awesome. And did I mention daily maid service?

Dining Room

Kitchen

Bedroom

Bedroom TV and Armoire

I got to my room at about 1830 (6:30 PM), unpacked, and made myself comfortable. I had a microwavable chili package I brought from home for dinner, and time for bed. I have no idea what’s coming tomorrow.

AND NOW... Basic Chaplain School!

Dear Readers,

It has been a year since I completed Commissioned Officer Training.  Since that time, I have had amazing experiences serving with my unit in the Tennessee Air National Guard.  First of all, the unit received funding to provide firemen seven days a week (before, they contracted with the Memphis Fire Department on the weekends). What that means to me is that on drill weekends, whereas I used to spend Friday night alone in the firehouse, I am now accompanied by at least two other troops. I'm not going to lie; I miss the quiet of those Friday nights... Now, when I sit down to my Friday night Shabbat Dinner, there is usually a TV on and they guys are eating pork chops or something. Hey, it is what it is - and, as we say in the Air Force, "Mission First!"

I have a monthly Saturday afternoon "social" with the Wing Commander. It's a blast! Each month I bring a different single malt Scotch, and we have been going on a liquid tour of Scotland. Lately, we've been joined by the Assistant Wing Commander; he's being groomed to take over, so he needs to know our routine!

I put together and delivered a presentation on Suicide Prevention earlier in the year. It went over very well, and as a result, I have been in high demand for counseling sessions on drill weekends. I also started a monthly "Old Testament Bible Study" that I do on Saturdays during drill; I hate to say it, but I get more people on average than the Protestant and Catholic services combined!

However, that has all been done in the absence of my "official" Chaplain Training. And that begins next week! I leave for Fort Jackson, SC (outside of Columbia, SC) on Sunday, May 15th. Class begins Monday morning and runs through Friday, June 24th. I am very much looking forward to this!

First of all, this should be nothing like COT. I imagine everything will be a little lower key. Additionally, we will be treated like the officers we are, not like the "hazing" and initiations we had to endure last year at COT. The course schedule has not yet been distributed, but the program focuses on counseling - individual, marriage, suicide prevention, etc. - appropriate prayers for the military, chaplain responsibilities in the field, interaction with the Chaplain's Assistants, ecumenicism... you get the point. I imagine for the newly ordained clergy, this is all new material. I have been doing this stuff for two decades...

Additionally, I am off for Saturdays, so I hope to be able to go into Columbia for the weekends and spend Shabbos with the Chabad rabbi there. I was also given permission to leave for the two days of Shavuos, but I am responsible for the material that will be taught those days.

I will hopefully be better at updating the blog this time. Last year, I didn't have access to Blogger.com; I had to write the blogs and email them to my son, and sometimes they didn't get posted in time, and sometimes I mailed them late... Now, I have a rooted Android phone, so I have my own hotspot!! No more military censorship!!!

So have a great weekend, and stay tuned next week for the beginning of "The Rabbi Goes to Officer Training - Part II"!

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...