Training Day Zero

That’s right. Zero. As in…this day doesn’t count towards anything.

So we started the day with brunch that was supposed to be at the waffle house, with a bunch of people from the facebook group. Turns out the waffle house was really tiny and there was no room so we went across the street to the “Country Pride” restaurant. Whatever that is.

We sat around and gulped our last coffee and ate our last normal meal and talked about how miserable we thought we would or wouldn’t be, what we were afraid of, etc. It was really nice to spend those last few hours with people so that I didn’t become a giant stress ball. We eventually decided it was time to go, drove back to bas, crammed our suitcases into everyone’s car, and they drove over to in-processing. We walked over to the cars and got all the suitcases out, did a final shoelaces tucked in, shirt tucked in, hair up, smile gone check and walked over to “in-processing” A drill sergeant told us to put our suitcases down on one of a bunch of picnic tables and then get in line with our paperwork. We handed n the paperwork, got name tags and a folder that has gone literally everywhere with me since, including most trips to the bathroom. We were then instructed to “go over there, drink 2 cups of water, and get in line” where a drill sergeant taught us how to stand at attention properly, and a few basic marching commands. We were then filed inside where we stopped at different tables to get our room key, our flight assignments (small group of 16 people we do everything with) computer password, reflective belt, poncho, OTSMAN, and a water bottle.  Along the way we were yelled at, mostly right in our faces, for stepping over, or not close enough to, the blue line on the floor. Or looking around. Or down. Or up. Or anything not straight ahead. It wasn’t really that bad…mostly the officers just sounded annoyed.

The female officers are ridiculous. I’m pretty sure they’re all insecure, because they are cray-zee when they yell. The males stand there and yell in a stern voice. The female officers scream like they are frantic and wave their arms around and get really shrill. Like they have something to prove. Someone should tell them that they would get more respect for being loud and in control than they do for being frantic.

So the OTSMAN. The OTSMAN is the Officer Training School Manual, which we have to read literally any second that we are not actively doing something else. We were rushed through the line to go stand in the hallway for 30 minutes, so we read the OTSMAN, silently, in lines. We were waiting in between lines for 3 minutes, and we were told to “Get smart!” AKA Read the OTSMAN. It has ALL of the rules for this month including how/when to salute, how/when to walk anywhere, procedure for opening and closing lecture, what we can and can’t do, curfew hours, dining procedures (a whole other adventure…)…everything. So we read it. ALL. THE. TIME. If I had a dollar for every time an officer or drill sergeant said “You should be reading your OTSMAN”, I wouldn’t need the Air Force to pay for medical school.

Anyway. Eventually we got our suitcases and were given an hour to go put stuff away in our rooms. My roommate, thank you God, has been in the air force as an enlisted member since she was 18 and is now 30something. Awesome resource!

Then we went back downstairs and lines up. There are 320 people here, broken up into 3 Squadrons (Falcons, Guardians, Griffins. I’m a Guardia) and a bunch of flights (alpha, bravo, Charlie, etc. down the military alphabet. I am November flight, and so is everyone who lives in my section of the hallway) So they broke us up into squadrons and marched us to the clothing store, where everyone bought all the stuff we would need for our uniforms and random other things (flashlight with yellow cone, batteries, blab la bla) and got things altered if need be. Then we marched back to our dorms and put stuff away until Dinner.

We lined up again outside, and after much re-arranging and calling people with prior service out of the group to be the heads of the lines, we marched over to the DFac (Dining facility) where we stood in line for a long time, reading the OTSMAN. I’m not even going to bother explaining dining procedures. There are a bazillion rules, and you get screamed at for breaking any of them. The gist is, you don’t look at anyone or anything but your food, you eat as fast as you can, you don’t talk.  Non-enjoyable.

Then we filed out and to the auditorium for some briefings that I don’t even remember what they were about. Ha!  I think that’s all for that day….it’s starting to all blur together.

Apparently we have ALL of Friday off for the 4^th of July, (despite it being the 5^th) and hopefully I’ll catch up then.

But I’m still alive and I don’t hate it yet so I guess that’s good! It’s super humid and hot and gross, but we are constantly “hydrating” out of the camebacks we have so we probably won’t die at least. :-P

I gotta go do some homework. Ciao!