JudoPorkChop
08-16-2005, 07:30 AM
Now, most people have really skewed ideas of what BMT (Basic Military Training) is all about. I can sum it up in one of two movies. Either they think it's like Full Metal Jacket, or they think it's like Stripes. Well, FMJ is Marines, so I dunno, and Stripes is Army, and very, VERY off.
Welcome to Lackland Air Force Base, San Antonio Texas!
You roll onto this base, normally at night. The bus stops, and Zero Week begins, with the biggest, surliest motherfuckers you will ever know, storming the bus,and basically terrifying you into getting the hell out of the bus where they can terrify you into getting in line. Past that first night, you get to sleep, and rest, and rega- OH, HOLY SHIT SON, REVILLE? You meet your TI the first day. Normally, they will wake you gently, with the smell of the best pecan pie ev-nope. They tear-ass into the barracks, dump people out of bed, bang trash cans, throw bedframes, I've seen it all.
I'm lucky, my parents taught me to be fearless. I don't get too terribly afraid of people, no matter how loud they might be. This is good, and bad, because the fearless are the ones the TI's try to break. This was particularly bad for my flight, because out of the 53 of us that came in, approximately 30 of us were smartasses that had no fear. Most exchanges with our flight went much like this:
Mighty Mouse I (Instructor was all of 5' 1", so... mighty mouse.): ARE YOU AFRAID OF ME , NUT?
Pause.
Terminology:
Nut, Crazy, Pyle, Gomer, Joker, Goofy, Snuffy, Worm, Maggot, what-the-hell-ever: Name for Trainee when the TI didn't know what yours was.
On your face, Push San Antonio below Sea Level, Kiss Dirt, Get Down, Drop: Doing push-ups, most likely for messing up something.
341, the paper, no-no slip: The AETC Form 341. If you EVER got one of these pulled by another TI, you'd catch hell. Not only because NOW your TI knew who you were, they also knew you were messing around when they weren't looking. You're supposed to have three of these at all times.
Unpause.
Me: No, sir.
TI: WHY ARE YOU NOT AFRAID OF ME, BOY?
Me: Because I could quite possibly kill you at will, sir.
TI: OH, HOLY PISS SON! ARE YOU THREATENING TO KILL ME?
Me: No sir. Merely stating that I have the necessary capacity to kill you if it was ever warranted, sir.
TI: OH, THAT'S IT! EVERYBODY DOWN!
..and we do push-ups until his dick feels bigger.
It's all a really big game. Trust me. You wanna break a TI? Follow their orders, and do so, TO THE LETTER. Their heads pop after a day of this. I was in the chow hall, and one of the last people eating. Don't EVER be one of the last to eat, you WILL get harassed by your TI, the TI of the flight following you, and any other TI that's in the chow hall. So, I have about five people yelling at me to finish eating.
"Avery, you couldn't follow orders if you tried!"
Oh? Game on, motherfucker.
My TI tells me I'm done, stand up. The other TI's leave, and I stand. That is ALL I do. My TI turns around, and sees me standing there.
"Avery, what are you doing?"
"Trainee Avery reports as ordered: I am standing, as per your previous command."
He moves to exit the chow hall, and dismiss the flight for the evening. "Son, go get rid of your freaking tray..." and with that, he's outside, and the door closes behind him. So, I go over to the tray rack, and stack my tray. And then I stand there. About five minutes later, he comes back in.
"Avery? HOLY CRAP! WHAT ARE YOU STILL DOING IN HERE?"
"Sir, you ordered me to dispose of my tray. The tray in question has been disposed of, and there were no other following orders."
"WHAT? GET YOUR BUTT OUTTA THIS BUILDING! NOW!" With this, he leaves, and goes toward the staff area. I calmly exit, step far enough out that I don't cause an obstruction, form on the flight marker, and stand at attention.
Half an hour passes. Most flights are in the barracks for the night at this point, most TI's are either with them, or have gone home, so not too many people are out and about right now. My TI comes out, out of uniform, ready to leave, when he spies me. I muster every bit of bearing I have to not laugh, to not even smile, to stand stock still at attention. He peers at me, incredulous, and walks up.
"Avery. How long have you been out here?"
"I estimate at forty-five minutes, sir."
He takes a deep breath, sighs, and I can tell he's holding back either laughter or anger at this point. "Son, do you mind telling me precisely why you were out here for an estimated forty-five minutes?"
"Oh, not at all, sir. After you told me to exit the building, you left for the TI area. I exited, and formed up at the appropriate location. You did not return to issue supplemental orders."
He turns damn near purple, and appears to be holding back an impressive level of anger at this point. He calms, and straightens up before speaking next.
"Hop on one foot."
I hop.
"Pat your head and rub your tummy."
I hop, patting my head and rubbing your tummy.
"Tell me you're a happy monkey."
I hop, patting my head, rubbing my tummy, and stating I'm a happy monkey.
"Why haven't you stopped hopping?"
"Sir, you never ordered me to stop hopping."
"Stop. StopstopstopstopSTOP! What the fuck, son? Are you TRYING to be an ass?"
"No sir."
"Then what ARE you doing?"
"Following orders sir. Or at least trying to. Earlier today, someone had said I couldn't follow orders if I tried to. So, sir, I tried. "
"I see. Give me a 341, nut."
I do so.
"Now, go upstairs. To YOUR assigned barracks. Enter. Go to your locker. Get PT clothes to sleep in. Set them on your bed. Get soap. Go to the shower. Take a shower. Get a towel and dry yourself. Go to your bed. Dress in the PT clothes. Get in your bed. Jack off if you feel it is needed. Sleep. Are those orders clear enough, trainee?"
"Crystal, sir."
"Good. Understand if you ever make me do this shit again, I'm dropping the whole flight except you, all day long, every day until they kill you. Do you get me?
I can't help but chuckle. "Yes, sir."
"Out-freaking-STANDING! I'm going home, you have your orders. Go."
And that's just a snippet of ONE DAY at BMT.
Welcome to Lackland Air Force Base, San Antonio Texas!
You roll onto this base, normally at night. The bus stops, and Zero Week begins, with the biggest, surliest motherfuckers you will ever know, storming the bus,and basically terrifying you into getting the hell out of the bus where they can terrify you into getting in line. Past that first night, you get to sleep, and rest, and rega- OH, HOLY SHIT SON, REVILLE? You meet your TI the first day. Normally, they will wake you gently, with the smell of the best pecan pie ev-nope. They tear-ass into the barracks, dump people out of bed, bang trash cans, throw bedframes, I've seen it all.
I'm lucky, my parents taught me to be fearless. I don't get too terribly afraid of people, no matter how loud they might be. This is good, and bad, because the fearless are the ones the TI's try to break. This was particularly bad for my flight, because out of the 53 of us that came in, approximately 30 of us were smartasses that had no fear. Most exchanges with our flight went much like this:
Mighty Mouse I (Instructor was all of 5' 1", so... mighty mouse.): ARE YOU AFRAID OF ME , NUT?
Pause.
Terminology:
Nut, Crazy, Pyle, Gomer, Joker, Goofy, Snuffy, Worm, Maggot, what-the-hell-ever: Name for Trainee when the TI didn't know what yours was.
On your face, Push San Antonio below Sea Level, Kiss Dirt, Get Down, Drop: Doing push-ups, most likely for messing up something.
341, the paper, no-no slip: The AETC Form 341. If you EVER got one of these pulled by another TI, you'd catch hell. Not only because NOW your TI knew who you were, they also knew you were messing around when they weren't looking. You're supposed to have three of these at all times.
Unpause.
Me: No, sir.
TI: WHY ARE YOU NOT AFRAID OF ME, BOY?
Me: Because I could quite possibly kill you at will, sir.
TI: OH, HOLY PISS SON! ARE YOU THREATENING TO KILL ME?
Me: No sir. Merely stating that I have the necessary capacity to kill you if it was ever warranted, sir.
TI: OH, THAT'S IT! EVERYBODY DOWN!
..and we do push-ups until his dick feels bigger.
It's all a really big game. Trust me. You wanna break a TI? Follow their orders, and do so, TO THE LETTER. Their heads pop after a day of this. I was in the chow hall, and one of the last people eating. Don't EVER be one of the last to eat, you WILL get harassed by your TI, the TI of the flight following you, and any other TI that's in the chow hall. So, I have about five people yelling at me to finish eating.
"Avery, you couldn't follow orders if you tried!"
Oh? Game on, motherfucker.
My TI tells me I'm done, stand up. The other TI's leave, and I stand. That is ALL I do. My TI turns around, and sees me standing there.
"Avery, what are you doing?"
"Trainee Avery reports as ordered: I am standing, as per your previous command."
He moves to exit the chow hall, and dismiss the flight for the evening. "Son, go get rid of your freaking tray..." and with that, he's outside, and the door closes behind him. So, I go over to the tray rack, and stack my tray. And then I stand there. About five minutes later, he comes back in.
"Avery? HOLY CRAP! WHAT ARE YOU STILL DOING IN HERE?"
"Sir, you ordered me to dispose of my tray. The tray in question has been disposed of, and there were no other following orders."
"WHAT? GET YOUR BUTT OUTTA THIS BUILDING! NOW!" With this, he leaves, and goes toward the staff area. I calmly exit, step far enough out that I don't cause an obstruction, form on the flight marker, and stand at attention.
Half an hour passes. Most flights are in the barracks for the night at this point, most TI's are either with them, or have gone home, so not too many people are out and about right now. My TI comes out, out of uniform, ready to leave, when he spies me. I muster every bit of bearing I have to not laugh, to not even smile, to stand stock still at attention. He peers at me, incredulous, and walks up.
"Avery. How long have you been out here?"
"I estimate at forty-five minutes, sir."
He takes a deep breath, sighs, and I can tell he's holding back either laughter or anger at this point. "Son, do you mind telling me precisely why you were out here for an estimated forty-five minutes?"
"Oh, not at all, sir. After you told me to exit the building, you left for the TI area. I exited, and formed up at the appropriate location. You did not return to issue supplemental orders."
He turns damn near purple, and appears to be holding back an impressive level of anger at this point. He calms, and straightens up before speaking next.
"Hop on one foot."
I hop.
"Pat your head and rub your tummy."
I hop, patting my head and rubbing your tummy.
"Tell me you're a happy monkey."
I hop, patting my head, rubbing my tummy, and stating I'm a happy monkey.
"Why haven't you stopped hopping?"
"Sir, you never ordered me to stop hopping."
"Stop. StopstopstopstopSTOP! What the fuck, son? Are you TRYING to be an ass?"
"No sir."
"Then what ARE you doing?"
"Following orders sir. Or at least trying to. Earlier today, someone had said I couldn't follow orders if I tried to. So, sir, I tried. "
"I see. Give me a 341, nut."
I do so.
"Now, go upstairs. To YOUR assigned barracks. Enter. Go to your locker. Get PT clothes to sleep in. Set them on your bed. Get soap. Go to the shower. Take a shower. Get a towel and dry yourself. Go to your bed. Dress in the PT clothes. Get in your bed. Jack off if you feel it is needed. Sleep. Are those orders clear enough, trainee?"
"Crystal, sir."
"Good. Understand if you ever make me do this shit again, I'm dropping the whole flight except you, all day long, every day until they kill you. Do you get me?
I can't help but chuckle. "Yes, sir."
"Out-freaking-STANDING! I'm going home, you have your orders. Go."
And that's just a snippet of ONE DAY at BMT.