WELCOME TO THE USAF (PART 2)

Submitted by: Old Okie

When we arrived in San Antonio, Texas, to begin our basic training, there were so many young men arriving for the same reason that the personnel of Lackland Air Force Base were hopelessly understaffed to handle such numbers. So, we had to sit on the train for several hours before trucks arrived to take us to the AFB. We thought that was really bad until we saw where we would be living while on the base; our home away from home was a batch of canvas tents, each of which had about a dozen canvas cots and a dirt floor. We had no mattress and just one blanket for bedding, and had no uniforms – just the civilian clothing that we were wearing. There was no heat in the tent, and it was very cold, even in San Antonio, that January in 1951. Fortunately, a young boy stood outside the mess hall that first evening, selling newspapers. I bought two, I think, and lined my cot with them to help insulate it from the cold. We slept in our clothes, wrapped our one blanket around us, and shivered the night away. For the duration of our stay there, those were our accommodations, along with a nearby ditch for a latrine. During the day, we spent some time marching around the tent area in our filthy, wrinkled civilian clothes. We were, therefore, greatly relieved when, after about a week we were transferred to Sheppard AFB in Wichita Falls, Texas. I have no idea why I can’t remember what mode of transportation was used to get us there. What I do remember is that when we arrived, we had a barracks with actual beds, and a toilet with running water! It’s amazing what joy a few simple pleasures can bring to those who have been without them for a while.

At that time, the USAF would normally subject us to 12 weeks of basic training. But, due to the overwhelming enlistment and the resulting overcrowding and shortage of training personnel, we were cut back to only nine weeks. During that time, our “Flight Leader” (the Air Force equivalent of a Drill Instructor) did his best, within limits set by his superiors, to make our lives miserable. We had double-decked metal bunk beds; since I was pretty short, I was naturally assigned to an upper bunk. Our first morning in that barracks was a big shock. At 0430 hours, we were rudely awakened by Corporal Smith, or whatever his name was, our Flight Leader, as he turned on the lights and blew loudly on a whistle like the ones used by NFL officials during a game. As he loudly requested that we arise, get dressed, and make our beds – in language that was not at all polite, he also mentioned that the latrine was temporarily closed, and that we had exactly three minutes to report outside the barracks for our morning calisthenics. We then discovered how much fun it was to do jumping jacks and pushups on a cold, dark January morning, while dressed in fatigues with no coat and full bladders demanding to be emptied. After about 10 or 15 minutes of that, we were dismissed and all ran into the barracks, trying to be first in line for use of the latrine. Corporal Smith was stationed at the latrine door, making everyone wait for a few more minutes until he was satisfied with how we were lined up. I was small and very quick on my feet, so I was among the first bunch to be allowed into the latrine. A few of the less agile or aggressive unfortunates pissed in their fatigues while waiting in line. I was quite pleased with myself until Cpl Smith informed us that from now on, we would line up in alphabetical order, by our last names, to use the latrine after calisthenics. That meant that I would always be near the end of the line. Some idiot recruit with a name that began with “R” or “T” whined that such a procedure “…ain’t fair”.

He was informed that recruits only spoke to Flight Leaders when spoken to, and that he would always be last in the latrine line. What an old meanie our Corporal was!

After our latrine break, we were ordered to stand by our bunks at attention. As we did so, we noticed that the bedding on our bunks, which we had made so neatly before going outside, was all messed up. In some cases, the blankets and/or sheets were thrown on the floor. After spending about 10 minutes loudly describing to us what lazy incompetents we were, especially in the sloppy manner in which we had attempted to make our beds, the Corporal stopped in front of one of the guys who didn’t make it into the latrine in time. “Airman, why are your fatigues wet?” he bellowed. “I pissed in them, sir!” the guy answered. A couple of recruits snickered at that. In a rage, the Corporal ordered one of them to exchange fatigues with the poor slob whose fatigues were soiled. That made them both miserable, since the borrowed fatigues didn’t fit either of them and, since the original urinator had naturally also wet his underwear, they both now had on wet clothes. We had learned a couple of lessons that morning: (1) Don’t drink any liquids after dinner; and, (2) Don’t smile, laugh, or in any way express any emotion. We were then given a lesson on how to make a “white collar” bed. After remaking our beds, we were told to “fall in” outside, then we marched to the mess hall for breakfast.

-Submitted by: Old Okie