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Reading about my brother in law’s experience with undergoing a polygraph and personality tests, and how he had to face his past, brought back some flashes of AF BMT for me. It made me remember how shocked I was at having to be accountable for ever sound that came from my mouth..and every action I performed. Most people don’t give thought to their actions.. or how they respond with little comments like “uh-huh”. I never did either until it was pointed out to me. It sorta makes you realize what babbling idiots most of us are. I got dropped once because my TI asked me a question, and I was in a hurry and responded to his question with “yeah”. I paid for that one……

Ahh BMT (Air Force Bootcamp). The push-ups, the yelling, the smelly sweat of 38 girls who just didn’t care. I can still recall the fear I felt during latrine inspections; my fear that a piece of lint would float through the air and land on the mirrors that I was responsible for..that I had perfected the art of cleaning. I never dreamed of the day I would be naked in front of dozens of others….. and not even caring. I never thought I’d be so willing to use the toilette with open doors, not because we had to, but because we did not want to touch the doors and get our fingerprints in the chrome. More for us to clean….

There are some days when I still cannot believe I joined. Still cannot believe I had the guts to face the dreaded BMT. I remember the buss drive to Lackland AFB. They were playing Jackass the Movie. It was that part where the one guy went into the hardware store and used one of the toilettes. Everyone was laughing… except the closer we got the base… the lower the numbers went on the mile sign marker, the quieter everyone became. No one knew what to expect. I spent months obsessing online trying to read every account of what would take place when we arrived there. It really wasn’t too bad. Shocking, but not too bad. We got screamed at from the moment we saw our first TI. But that first night was certainly the “calm before the storm”.

The following are just a few of the most intense memories I have. It’s hard to truly appreciate it unless you’ve been there. The problem is that people, when we are stressed, tired, and in a confusing environment, we do things that we would not normally do. We react in way that we look back on later and laugh at ourselves.

 

Off the buss we go…

I was sitting there… quiet…my heart racing. I had read so many account of what this moment would entail. Would we be swarmed by TI’s screaming at us? Shaking the buss? Dragging us off and making us drop for 1000 pushups?
I looked out the window at the brightly lit awning. No one was there. It was quiet. Our buss driver was a civilian guy who informed us “Shut up and do EXACTLY as your told!”. He then turned his head and stared off into space..like he really did not want to see what was coming. This disturbed me. I pay a lot of attention to body language and did not like it one bit. I turned my head and looked, and there he was. The biggest, tallest, grizzly looking black guy I had ever seen in my life. I thought “Oh this won’t be bad. There is only one of them”… no sooner did that thought escape my head when all the doors of the bus flew open and I don’t know how many voices were screaming at all. All I remember hearing was instructions to put my bag over my left shoulder and walk off the buss. I remember my dad telling me to do EXACTLY as I was told. Left shoulder? Not the right? Ok. On the left it went. Perfect. And I was glad I listened. Others did not. I wanted to laugh at them.. but they were all in a panic and I was scared too.

 

Those damn strings!!!

 

Getting uniforms back from the dry cleaner was the most aggravating day. Oh they were already pressed and starched for us… that was the easy part. But you see, there were these strings that would pop out everywhere. Where they came from, I do not know. But we had to find each and everyone one of them and clip them off. Sundays were our slow day and the day we did not have to see much of our TI’s. It’s the day we would spend cleaning and organizing our wall locker, folding clothes and clipping strings. I would spend hours clipping.. only to have a TI come do an inspection and find the largest, gnarliest strings known to mankind. I am convinced it was all some sick joke and that the strings “grew” by some sort of electronic device placed in our uniforms. Sort of like the hairballs and dust bunnies that would magically appear after we licked the floors clean. I think the TI’s would sneak in when we were gone and spray the place down with dust just so they could scream at us for it…. and those damn strings. Many of us never got over the strings. It followed us after BMT where we would point out strings on each others uniforms.. long after it mattered. It’s no wonder the other branches of service think USAF people are just weird….strings!!!

 

The body does weird things when conditioned…

I used to like the sound of Reveille. You hear it in movies and it just sounds so freakin awesome! It just makes you want to pick up a rifle and go to town, plowing away Japs, Germans, or whatever your chosen prey is. But now, it makes me cringe and think about euphoric drug experiences of some type. My heart would pound with fear and dread whenever it would blast through our bay. You knew another day of hell was just starting. You knew you only had moments to get dressed, get your bed made, and get ready for the pounding and screaming of our male TI’s at the doors. After a while though, the heart pounding stopped and it was replaced by what I can only describe as programmed reactions. I remember the first day I realized what was happening. The horns blasted, I jumped out of bed and BEFORE my eyes even opened, I was throwing on my uniform and tying up my boots. My brain and body had no connection…. it was a weird floaty feeling. I was thinking in my head “Holy shit! I’m doing this, but I’m not even thinking of doing this! My body is acting on its own! This is weird feeling!!!!” It was like I could still sleep, and just let my body do its own thing until it needed my brain for something. My mom used to play mean (but funny) tricks on my dad where she would wake him up by yelling him to attention. He would jump out of bed, “Sir! Yes, Sir!”. The poor guy never had a choice… you’re body acts before your mind does. It’s really weird!!!!! Sorta like superhuman powers.

 

Mirror, mirror, on the wall. Where will the next bit of lint fall?

Seeing a bit of lint on a mirror always strikes sort of a sense of fear in my little heart. I was in charge of our mirrors. They had to be perfectly streak free and link free. Go and take a look at your mirror. Any streaks? Any lint? Now, JUST TRY and get that damn lint off!! As soon as you get that last little bit off, more come to hang out. Yet another sick joke of a way for our TI’s to prey upon us. But I did find a way to beat those little lints. My cover (hat). You could wipe it over the mirror and it would clear them all away and leave none behind. I did it once in front of my TI and it was the only time I saw a look of shock come across his face. I’m not sure if he was happy I found a good way of solving the problem, or if I was somehow violating my uniform in his eyes, either way, I DID NOT CARE!!! I was victorious!!! And dammit I wanted my TI to be proud… but alas… we were once again treated to insults of how disgusting our latrine was and how he would not even let his own dog eat off the floors. But I am still proud of my lint defeating victories.

 

Last name first….first name first.. wait.. what?

I was on dorm guard. Not too bad. Ok, so the occasionally TI would show up at the door with a Mickey Mouse ID and demand to be let into the dorm. He would scream and kick the door and I would stare at him with big watery eyes. But really, we just had to stick to a script that was written right below the door window and not screw up. There was a board next to the door that had the names of the TI’s authorized to be in there (thus the Mickey Mouse jokes). Sometimes they would trick us by removing their own names just to see if we would screw up. I never did. I was always really good at dorm guard. Until one day I was just a little too sleepy. Here he came. He buzzed the door. I peered out the window and said my script. He held up his badge. Only this time instead of calling his last name.. I said his first name. I said it about 3 times until the look of furry on his face finally led me to believe I was doing something wrong. I then opened the door in defeat. It was not a man. It was a creature. A very large creature that towered above me. Its dark eyes peering down at me. Large, watery, red… I expected lazers to shoot forth from them. I surrendered. I don’t remember much what happened after that… just lots of screaming in my face by 3 TI’s around me. I felt like a rape victim who just blacks out or stares at a light .. waiting for it to be over. I hated Dorm Guard after that…..

 

Hi dad. I can’t talk because I’m being strangled.

We finally got to make our first phone call. It was only 3 minutes. Long enough to give our address to our loved ones. We all lined up as usual. I saw them go in groups. I saw them come back with tears welling in their eyes. I was laughing. I mean.. who had time to think about their families? Honestly I didn’t think of mine much those first several weeks. I was just trying to stay focused and wait for it all to end. I saw the males coming back.. and even they had tears in their eyes. I thought they were idiots. And then it was my turn. I walked up to the phone. Easy. Picked up the phone and dialed the number. Easy. Dad answered the phone. Uh-oh. Something weird happened at that point. I could not talk. I felt like enormous hands had reached around my neck and were choking the life out of me. I am not sure what I told my dad. Somehow he managed to get my address from me. I squeeked it out. I had to SCREAM in order for any sound to come from my mouth. I am sure my dad thought I sounded a little funny, but I don’t know if he realized I was dying on the other end… or so it felt. When my call was ended, I walked back to my line with my head hanging low. I felt pretty stupid and suddenly felt great empathy for my brother flight. I wondered if they had been choked by Goliath too.

I remember a lot of other things, but really I am tired of typing. The majority of the experience is stuff that unless you’ve been there yourself, you just won’t get why it’s so horrible and funny. I guess that’s one of the things that bring us military people together. We all know the unexplained horrors we had to face in BMT. Words don’t need to describe those things.. we just KNOW.

 

Dad’s best advice.

 

Before I left for BMT, I asked my dad for advice. Anything to help me. He told me to keep my eyes and ears open and my mouth shut. This is definitely the advice I would give to anyone else going in. Seriously guys and gals, shut the fuck up. Don’t say anything unless you have to. Don’t attract attention to yourself…. just lay low. The longer you can go without your TI’s memorizing your last name, the better you are.

Oh.. and watch out for the Blue Ropes. If you’re in formation and they ever ask you how many push ups you can do, tell them 5 or 7.

PS: Please excuse the spelling mistakes. I just don’t care right now.