Physical Ability and Stamina Test: 03

“If you aren’t trying to cheat, you ain’t trying!”

     -MSgt. Greg “Waldo” Waldheim, Combat Controller of the United States Air Force.

Waiting was agony. It was the longest three weeks I think I’ve ever experienced. Every day I would call or text my recruiter and inquire as to my status. Every time he would declare that he didn’t know and hadn’t heard anything. The reason I was stressed was because since I failed the last test I was in jeopardy of not physically having enough time to retest. If I couldn’t retake the test then the USAF would kindly give away my contract to another lucky individual and I would be forced back into rotation waiting for another date. This is what I feared.

Luckily, my recruiter was able to coordinate a retest in Harrisburg, PA. We knew where it would be and we knew that it would be MSgt. Waldo administering the test but we didn’t know when. For three weeks I didn’t hear anything. It wasn’t until the week of the test that I was informed. My recruiter told me it would be at a YMCA in Harrisburg and it would begin at 1100 on 12/09.

Fortunately, my father had made it clear to me that he would drive up with me if it became a situation where booking a plane flight would be too expensive. That’s exactly what we did. We departed the house at around 0530 and began our cross-country journey through all of Florida, Georgia, South Carolina, North Carolina, Virginia, and Maryland all the way to Pennsylvania. It was a long trip. In hindsight though coming back seemed to take twice as long. Once in Pennsylvania we even drove through some snow! We went from high 70-degree weather to a low of 31 degrees in one day. We arrived in Harrisburg at 2330 and promptly checked into the hotel we had reserved and subsequently shed our clothes, dropped our bags, and fell asleep in what felt like seconds.

Our plan from the beginning was to get there a day early so that we could relax, get the lay of the land, and figure out where I would be testing and whatnot. Both my father and I slept in a bit and took advantage of the nice breakfast the hotel offered every morning until 1000. We weren’t in any rush to climb back into the car so we took our time eating and messed around on our computers. Eventually we decided to go about our day.

After cleaning ourselves up and driving through the town we discovered that we had a flat tire! Thank god there was a Tires Plus right around the corner from where we were. So we sputtered along and dropped off the car. The funny thing was that two days before this point in time my dad had just purchased 4 new tires for his Nissan Maxima and here one of them was just obliterated beyond repair. Apparently, we must’ve driven on it a lot the night before without even realizing it. The snow, we had driven through must have masked the mushy feeling the flat tire had. Oh, well.

For the rest of the morning my father and I walked around town, since the car was being worked on. We got haircuts, and walked around the mall and mainly just killed time. At some point we received a call that the car was fixed and a new tire was being put installed so we went back to Tires Plus. Shortly after we were on our way heading towards the local YMCA where my test was to be held the following morning.

A nice gentleman behind the desk happily gave us the grand tour. I’ve always found that I perform better in events if I have an idea or image of what it is to expect. In this case I got to see the pool area and the indoor track, which much to my chagrin, required 16 laps for the distance of a mile. Anybody familiar with running distance should cringe at hearing that. That meant for my mile and a half run I would have to run 24 laps of the track, which on its longest side I could run in 8 strides. Terrible.

For the remainder of that afternoon my father and I would go for a light two-mile jog, and I would only do about 100 push-ups just to stay loose. Later that night we would go out to dinner and be back in bed by 2000. A pretty boring day, but just what I needed. During the day, I received a text from my recruiter that the test was moved up an hour to 1000, which didn’t bother me in the slightest. The sooner it was over, the sooner I would pass and be back home in my own bed. For my first PAST I was entirely anxious and my performance was okay but not optimal by any means. For my second PAST I was nervous, and the whole time was hearing from my recruiter that I should hit the ironman standard for the test. So for this test I decided to remain indifferent as to what my scores were and how good they could be. I just decided to go out and do my best with each and every event and that was it. I would pass. End of story.

That night I slept well, I woke up a few times to use the bathroom but other than that I slept quite soundly. I didn’t wake up to the distress from nightmares or from a nervous anxiety. I was calm and collected and woke up when the alarm went off. I rolled out of bed hit the breakfast and feasted on two slices of peanut butter toast and three hardboiled eggs. I then went to the shower, changed into my gear, and popped my headphones in beginning my zoning out/amping up process. We arrived at the YMCA at 0900 and I warmed up Rocky style. I executed jumping jacks, shadow boxing, light resistance on a pull down machine, and a few push-ups. All the while jamming to Avenged Sevenfold, Disturbed, Godsmack, and Slipknot. I ran four or five laps on the ridiculously small track and then met with my recruiter downstairs in the lobby.

Immediately, I wanted to calm down so I changed my music to some Rebelution, SOJA, Collie Buddz, and Slightly Stoopid. I was amply warmed up but now needed to relax and mentally focus knowing that I would perform well. My recruiter brought with him another PJ wannabe who was interested in the field and wanted to take the test as a practice. I never spoke much to him. I was zoned out.

Soon enough, a couple other recruiters and two other wannabe’s later we had everyone so we went to the locker room to change and met out on the pool deck. We were informed that MSgt. Waldo was running late and were told to get into the pool and prepare ourselves. Soon enough MSgt. Waldo showed up and I knew it was time for business.

“Haven’t I seen you before?” he asked me, as he walked over to the four of us.

“Yes Sergeant, I tested with you last month,” I replied.

“What happened?” he asked.

I answered, “I failed the pull-ups Sergeant.”

“Well don’t suck this time!” He declared. Without missing a beat he began his lecture and told us what to expect and to just put out.

MSgt. Waldo didn’t demonstrate the swim component this time as three out of four of us had already taken the test and were all trying to pass our final PAST so we could all ship on 01/03/12. That means if the three of us passed we would all be in basic together and subsequently in indoctrination together. Kind of cool.

During this time I introduced myself to the other testers. The two who could potentially be at basic with me were named Will and Briyan. (I spell Briyan with both an “I” and a “y” because I don’t know how he spells it, so why not do both.) I honestly forget the fourth kids name, who my recruiter had brought up. He didn’t look like much and unsurprisingly enough he wasn’t. Without any adieu we began the test. Underwaters (as you know by now,) came first.

After completing two of them MSgt. Waldo spoke up, “Get with this guy,” he said, pointing to me. “I don’t say this often but your underwater swim stroke is perfect. All of your guys’ strokes are good but his is perfect. Get with him.”

I must say it is nice being complemented like that. The 500-meter swim was next and boy did it hurt. I hadn’t been swimming at the Masters program as much as I had prior to my second PAST so my time wasn’t great. I honestly forget exactly what it was because frankly I didn’t care. It was passing and that was all that mattered. Next up, the run. Luckily for us there was a track not too far away and we decided to drive to it to do the run, as the small one the YMCA provided would’ve been terrible. Due to its small size it would be incredibly difficult to maintain a fast pace and long stride, as you would be turning every 10 steps. In addition to that is the hazard of dodging other pedestrians who were there walking or jogging for their own fitness.

I did a lap to warm up and some feet drills to get my legs going. It was cold outside so a beanie, gloves, cold weather underarmor and my knee-high soccer socks were a must. My time probably something around 9:20 if I recall correctly. Again not great, probably due to the cold weather shock my muscles felt. Sometimes it isn’t good being a Floridian. But hey, it was passing which is all that mattered. Unfortunately, Briyan failed to pick up and maintain a good pace for the run and failed. A failure on one event is a failure for the whole PAST. He wouldn’t be going to basic with Will and I on the third of January. It sucks but he still stayed for the rest of the test to finish strong with us.

My nemesis was next, pull-ups. This was the deciding factor in my failure last test and was what I considered to be the "X" factor for this test. After my failure of the last PAST I really focused hard on pull-ups. One day in particular, every fifteen minutes I would do a set of pull-ups (6 reps), followed by a set of chin-ups (6 reps), with maybe a minute break in between. That day specifically, I must have done at least 200 reps of pull-ups/chin-ups. It payed off.

As MSgt. Waldo demonstrated the proper form of a pull-up he told us, "I am stickler for form. Make sure you come all the way up and go all the way down. You know your good if you touch your chest to the bar. I want you to do these perfectly. Dare me not to count one! Don't waste energy on a rep that won't even count." This time I busted out 12 flat and none were taken away due to improper form.

Sit-ups followed next. I have no excuse for why my number was so low, I need to work on it or something. But 57 sit-ups is passing so shit I'll take it.

"Kyle what's wrong with you man?" Asked Waldo. "You are killing yourself man! You are more in shape than you think you are Kyle. You hit like a mental wall or something. You make it harder on yourself than it actually is. You'll break that wall though and then you will be pounding out sit-ups like crazy."

Last but certainly not least came push-ups. I wasn't a beast when it came to push-ups but I wasn't incapable either, I knew I could pass. Normally I get around the high 50's for this evolution. But today was a different day. I punded out 35 flat before I paused for a breath but made sure to continue doing push-ups until my full two minutes were up. The way I figured it, If I just kept going for the whole time there was no way I wouldn't pass. When time was called I was slightly worried. MSgt. Waldo took away five of my push-ups for improper form. 

I knew my push-ups number wasn't high. Shoot, all of my numbers haven't been high anymore. I focus too much on one aspect and kill that one event but my other areas suffer. Initially, I was out of shape and was worried about my run time so I ran everyday at least 2-3 miles. The result was running 8:40 mile and a half, but my swimming suffered. So I turned to that as it is probably the most emphasized aspect of Indoctrination and so I attacked it, swimming 2 miles 2-3 times a week, ensuring that I perfected my form. The result was swimming an 8:40. BEAST. Still haven't been able to replicate that. But do you know what happened? When I focused so heavily on swimming a different evolution in my training failed to get the attention it needed: Pull-ups, which lead to the failure. So this time around I tried to do everything and maintain every aspect, but it is hard. And would you know it I still didn't do enough push-ups to prepare. I did great for my pull-ups but my push-ups suffered.

As time was called I dropped to my knees and sat up slowly, panting heavily with exhaustion. It is done. PAST test complete. MSgt. Waldo looks at me and doesn't say a word. He then looks to my dad and gives him a poker face look before turning to the recruiters in attendance.

"What's your count?" asked Waldo.

I couldn't hear the recruiter's response, they mumbled a bit. Apparently my recruter didn't even count as he was nervous for me and just looked away the whole time.

"I don't even know what the minimum is, what is it?" asked Waldo.

One of the recruiter's answered.

MSgt. Waldo drops his head and sighs deeply, "Damn Kyle. If you had just gotten a few more reps I would've been able to give you an early christmas present."

I was confused, zoned out from the effort. It took me a minute to come to the realization of what his words implied. Did I really just fail push-ups... F!@#

Without saying anything else Waldo leans over and shoves the counter in my face. The number on the display: 52. The minimum required amount. Damn him. I hate him. I love this guy. I immediately jumped up and gave a "Whoop" of elation. I did it. I did it. I passed my PAST. I was on my way to Basic Military Training and then Indoctrination. HOOYAH!

As we watched Briyan perform his two minutes of push-ups, MSgt. Waldo who was in front of me, without even looking behind him reaches back and extends his fist towards me. He gave me daps, LOL.

A few minutes later and the test is over. Four candidates tested. Two passed. Briyan, who was testing for his final time to leave with Will and I for Basic, immediately left. He was heartbroken. I know the feeling. I can't blame him. I know he will come back and tear it up next time. He was one pull-up short and was too slow on the run. The cruel thing with this test is no matter how you perform you know that you can do better, or that some aspect of your training wasn't good enough. It may be passing but you know there is always more you can do.

MSgt. Waldo had this workout that you do while watching television throughout the day. Fifteen past the hour on a commercial break do 25-30 push-ups and then just maintain the push-up position for the remaining duration of the commercial. Half past the hour do sit-ups for the full commercial break. Fifteen before the hour do negative pull-ups. When the hour strikes grab yourself a drink or a beer and sit your "fat ass on the couch." It's a good workout and gets your calisthenics in while drinking beer and watching tv. I hadn't been doing it though.

"Kyle, have you been watching tv?" asked Waldo.

"No Sergeant, I play video games."

"Dammit, did I say to play video games?"

"No Sergeant."

"No! So quit being a little bitch and watch television like a man!"

At the mention of video games MSgt. Waldo related a story of a kid he tested in the past, "I had this kid who tested one time, and he failed. The kid couldn't believe it and he started flipping out saying, 'Do you know who I am?' I was like, 'No.' Then the kid boasted, 'I'm Internationally ranked in Call of Duty! I've done your job 200 times over. You don't even know!' I couldn't believe this kid."

That story proved to be quite the laugh. Waldo had many stories like that, too many to relate. I feel privileged to have met him and am kind of glad I failed my second PAST. It really put it in perspective how important my fitness is and how fast it can deteriorate if not maintained.

I leave you with something Waldo related to me as he began telling one of his numerous stories. Some kid had come up to him dropping the name of a book and asking him if he had heard of it or read it. Waldo didn't say this, but thought to himself, "I don't read books. I live 'em."

Physical Ability and Stamina Test: 02

“You got to be stupid enough not to quit,”

- MSgt. Greg “Waldo” Waldheim, Combat Controller of the United States Air Force.

From the beginning I felt… for lack of a better word, off.

I was nervous. Not anxious as I was during the first PAST, but nervous. I still don’t know why. Looking back I think I just mentally defeated myself. I built the test up into this big thing. I made it a big deal. When in reality I had done it all before many times. I knew I could pass, but something was wrong. My confidence wasn’t there.

I had to fly up to Pittsburgh and take my final PAST since by this time I had relocated back to Florida. I flew out on the 15^th of November relatively early in the morning. I had a layover in Atlanta for a couple of hours before continuing on to Pittsburgh. My mom was there waiting for me, as she wanted to be there with me when I tested and we were going to make it a point to visit family in the area after my test. My recruiter would later make the claim that my Mom was bad luck.

I arrived in Pitt late in the afternoon and immediately realized I didn’t miss it. The weather was cloudy with plenty of rain. Cold too. So we drove the hour to our hotel and checked in for the night. My test wasn’t until the 17^th so the following day we had time to kill and did so. We went out to eat, went to the movies and killed time. The whole time my thoughts would drift to the upcoming PAST, my head was “in the game,” but I couldn’t shake that feeling of unease.

Before I knew it I was laying on my bed in the hotel room cloaked in the darkness more tightly than the sheet that clung to me, counting sheep or trying to at least. I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned all night and eventually did find solace in examining the back of my eyelids. But like any athlete before the “big game” I was restless. I continued to wake up every hour, mostly due to my hydration. I would wake from a nightmare then make my way to the bathroom to dehydrate only to find myself back in my bed struggling to find sleep. This repeated itself what felt like every hour.

I woke up one final time 10 minutes before my alarm (I hate it when that happens). My mother and I promptly got dressed and packed our bags as we wouldn’t be returning to Pittsburgh following my test. Two slices of peanut butter toast and three hardboiled eggs later we were at my recruiter’s office with two other PJ wannabes who would be taking the test with me as practice. Both of them would fail. One was a prior service marine, the other a kid in his final year of high school.

Eventually we caravanned it to Wheeling, West Virginia, where the actual test would be conducted at.  This was the same location where I had taken the first PAST, so it was familiar to me. Unfortunately, after returning home to Florida I had become acclimated to the 80-degree weather and wasn’t used to the mid 40’s that Wheeling was experiencing at the time. I did plan ahead though as I brought my cold-weather underarmor as well as some adidas shorts and old knee high soccer socks I used to keep my legs warm.

This time around we were running late to the test, due to the fact that my recruiter was late in getting to his office. Fortunately for me the test administrator was late as well. When he did show up though he wasn’t quite what I expected. It wasn’t the PJ from last time but a pretty solidly built man who stood at about 6’0” with a grizzled appearance and deep raspy voice. He introduced himself as a Master Sergeant Greg Waldheim, Combat Controller, but told us we could refer to him as MSgt. Waldo.

By the time MSgt. Waldo arrived the entire lot of testers and myself (14 of us total) had already changed and were standing by on the pool deck. Before we knew it he had changed and was standing before us briefing us on the order and expectations of the PAST. The man was quite the hairy dude with tattoos covering portions of his chest and arms he must’ve been in his early 40’s but still looked super fit and still rocked a six- pack. The man was a beast!

“I know what you’re thinking,” said MSgt. Waldo, “You are thinking, ‘Shit! If this guy can make it than I’m going to have no problem.’ If you are not thinking that, then start! I’m not special. I was just too stupid to quit.”

As he briefed us on the PAST test he explained a bit about the different strokes and encouraging us to put out during the duration of the test. He even demonstrated the strokes we are allowed to use for the underwater swim and regular swim portions of the test. The PJ administrator for the first test never took off his BDU’s, he never explained or demonstrated strokes, as I said in a previous post he was pretty much stone faced the whole time.

“So this is the freestyle stroke,” MSgt. Waldo explained, “Now my freestyle sucks. I don’t know how to freestyle, my sidestroke is better and faster than my freestyle. I guess I’m just retarded like that.”

The demonstration continued, it was cool seeing a different approach to the test and someone actually get in the water and try to impart knowledge to us even if it was right before the test. Seeing the proper form of the sidestroke in no way means I will be able to execute it properly immediately after. But I made a mental note to practice it in the future and observed silently.

Soon enough we were told to enter the water and were divided up into 1’s, 2’s, or 3’s. On the command “1’s Go!” Every single 1 would take a breath and dive under the water swimming the full length of 25 yards in one breath without breaking the surface. I was a 3.

“2’s Go!” Waldo shouted.

“Okay, deep breath Kyle. Just look down at the big black line until you run into the wall.” I said to myself. 25 yard underwater swims are easy but when dealing with evolutions that involve holding your breath you have to remember to calm yourself and think about other things, otherwise even a short underwater can and will put you in distress.

“3’s Go!”

Immediately I swallowed a huge breath of air and dove for the bottom of the pool as I simultaneously kicked off the wall for a good push.

The stroke for an underwater is kind of tricky. In theory it is simple but timing is important, but the mechanics and form even more so. Often times most testers I’ve seen will do a modified breaststroke repeatedly as fast as they can. However, speed isn’t the key when it comes to this evolution. Efficiency is.

You must execute what is called a keystroke. As you push off the wall make sure your body is straight and your hands out in front of you. You must glide as far as possible and just as you are about to slow down you stroke with your hands bringing them out and down like the head of a key and then thrust them down by your legs to really get a good thrust. PJ “Bobby” even gave me the tip to try and slap your legs. You should shoot through the water quite nicely, be sure to glide it out and not to move or kick too soon as you will only slow yourself down. As you start to slow then you frog kick as you bring your hands up to recover. Again make sure to glide.

It’s all about moving as little as possible. The more you move the more oxygen your body uses and needs. By minimizing the amount of movement required and making each stroke as efficient as possible you severely decrease the difficulty of the underwater evolution.

I popped up as I touched the other wall signaling to SMSgt. Waldo giving him an “OK” signal and telling him that “I feel fine, Sergeant.” A big fear with underwater evolutions is what is known as shallow water blackouts and by making us speak he can ensure we are not suffering from it.

We swam back to the other side of the pool just doing a freestyle stroke slowly to recover and breath before we attempted a second underwater. The PAST dictates that two underwater swims must be completed if you fail one you fail the entire test. A few minutes later we were back at the shallow end and exiting the pool preparing for our 500-meter swim.

As I exited the pool SMSgt. Waldo came over to me and yelled at everyone telling them that if anyone lived near me to get with me and train because I had the underwater stroke down perfectly. It was an unexpected compliment. I appreciated it.

‘Thanks “Bobby,” those few workouts we did were priceless.”

Like clockwork, 10 minutes later we began our swim. You’ve read my previous posts so I’m not going to get too detailed. There isn’t too much to describe about 14 guys swimming 22 lengths of a pool. I started out too fast though. I blew up. I had to ease up by the sixth length. I nailed my flip turns for these first lengths but quickly switched to just doing touch-and-go’s, I don’t know why. I ended up losing count of my laps and just as I felt like I was about to cramp I switched to a sidestroke halfway through a lap. Little did I know that it was my last lap. It was pretty frustrating.

I would’ve asked what lap I was on but MSgt. Waldo made it clear. “If you ask me how many laps you have left, I’m going to tell you 10! So don’t ask. Keep freaking swimming until we tell you to stop.”

My swim time 8:40. I was pleasantly surprised, ecstatic really. I dropped a full minute off of my swim. It hurt, but boy did I feel good afterwards. I showered, changed and met up with everyone outside. It was fairly cold so I made sure to do a couple of laps before hand. This time around every guy who was taking his last test to ship out was told to stack up on the inside lane, so I didn’t have to worry about getting in front as quickly, but hell old habits die hard. On the command of go I bolted and got in front. I nearly stayed there the entire time again but I was passed which MSgt. Waldo noticed.

“RIP HIS SOUL OUT AS YOU PASS HIM!!! LAUGH IN HIS FACE AS YOU STOMP ON HIS SOUL!!!” he yelled.

The kid who passed me was too out of breath to do so which was fine by me because I probably would’ve laughed too. I still laugh at it now when I look back on it. I ran a 9:06. Decent considering it was cold as S!@#. Not my best but it works. As you know by now calisthenics are what follows: pull-ups, sit-ups, and push-ups in that order. I was on track to pass, or so I thought.

MSgt. Waldo had the three guys who were on deck to ship out go first. That included me. I was the second of the three of us. Sure enough, I’m told to mount the bar and prepare to do pull-ups, I do so. My repetitions: 13. How many actually counted: 9. My form was wrong apparently. Waldo even silently mouthed the number as he held up the same amount of fingers. I guess he thought I wasn’t paying attention. My heart sank. I needed 10. I failed. That easily I failed, the rest of the test didn’t matter at that point. I could’ve done 123,456,789 pushups it wouldn’t have mattered. I crushed my run and swim in vain.

I still did the rest of the test. But even then I failed to achieve the right number of sit-ups, my form was wrong and because of it my abdominals stayed contracted the whole time and I wasn’t utilizing the full range of motion I could’ve and because of that I came up short. At that point I had given up I guess, I mentally defeated myself and forgot to focus on the task at hand. A mistake I can’t afford to make in the future, a mistake that will never happen again.

For my push-ups I think I got something like 57. Passing… YAY! I still failed.

I can’t describe the feeling. Most everyone is familiar with it in one way, shape or form. It’s just to what degree they’ve experienced it. The feeling in my gut was painful, I really wanted this but I failed. Waldo didn’t I fail me. I failed me.

Despite it all I kept my chin up and shook his hand and picked his brain for the rest of the afternoon as we all stood around saying goodbyes before parting ways. I still remember every word he said to me.

“Don’t worry about it man. You put out. You did well. You are right there and almost got it. You will kill the test next time.”

***As I sit here writing this, those words still echo in my head. He was right. I would go on to retest a few weeks later and pass. There will be more detail on that and great quotes from MSgt. Greg “Waldo” Waldheim in my next post.

Shooting With A Recon Scout Sniper

"One Shot,

From An Unknown Spot,

One Kill,

Because Of My Skill."

-Sniper Motto

Going in to the Special Forces community is practically a guarantee that you will see combat. That is what makes the job so dangerous and is what initially separates the men from the boys. With that being said you will be trained extensively in the use of firearms and some of the best technology the military has to offer.

As I grew up I rarely was ever around firearms. My stepdad had some at one time but never took me shooting. My dad had a sidearm when I was a baby but got rid of it for that reason exactly. This coupled with growing up in Palm Beach Gardens Florida prevented me from really going shooting like some kids did out in the farms on the weekends.

When I was younger I don’t think I was ever really interested in the hobby either. My only experience with any type of weapon was my Tippmann 98 custom paintball gun which I used quite frequently back in my high school NJROTC days.

It wasn’t until I decided to embark on this path of becoming a PJ that I realized my lack of experience with any sort of actual weapon! I needed to rectify this.

Now I wasn’t expecting to become a marksman, far from it. I just wanted to have some experience and knowledge as to what to expect once I got into basic and an M-16 was thrust in my hands.

Luckily enough for me I just so happened to stop into my parents’ office one afternoon and meet an outstanding individual. My stepmother’s client was a man named “Danny.” Who my dad immediately revealed to me is a Veteran Marine Recon Sniper.

My immediate thoughts: “HOOYAH!”

I was in awe at meeting this man, and didn’t rightly know what to say or what questions to ask. After all, I wasn’t expecting to meet someone like this in my parents’ office. But I shook his hand and we talked briefly and then we said our goodbyes and he wished me luck.

It wasn’t until a few days later that I had the epiphany to ask my stepmom for his contact information to see if I couldn’t get in touch with him again. Eventually, I did so and he told me that about twice a week he goes out shooting with his friends and unloads enough ammo to supply a small army. I made plans to meet up with him one weekend and learn how to shoot.

I mean come on! If you are going to learn how to shoot, you might as well learn from the best!

So one Saturday morning I met up with him and several of his friends at a retreat that was being conducted to promote gun knowledge and experience for Women. “Danny” was an instructor at the retreat along with his friends. One such friend was actually a prior service Air Force Combat Controller!

What luck!

After the women left for the day, I was finally able to shoot. And boy did I shoot. They had every handgun of every single caliber you could list. Everything from a .22 to .357 magnum, they even had black powder guns as well. That day I mainly fired a .357 Colt Python and a .45 Beretta. It was awesome.

My shots weren’t great, but they weren’t terrible. My groupings were inconsistent but I could hit the targets. The hardest part for me was changing the side I fired from. I’m left handed and during my paintball days I played with the stock of my gun resting on my left shoulder and the sights lined up with my left eye. Unfortunately, “Danny” told me that they don’t make special weapons for “leftys” in the service. So I may as well develop my skills with my right side. Therein making each and every shot feel awkward and off, but I started getting used to it… eventually.

Before I knew it the day was over and I was headed home with a sense of euphoria. Shooting is quite exhilarating, at least for the first time. However, it was only going to get better.

The following day, Sunday, I returned to the retreat and met with “Danny” and the other instructors on the firing range but there weren’t any handguns. Not one. But, there were plenty of rifles. There was an AK-47, M-4, AR-15, FAL and several others I can’t recall. Boy was this what I really wanted. Handguns are good and all but standard issue for a PJ is an M-4. So I made it a point to get familiar with the M-4 and AR-15. I fired the others but I must say I did favor the M-4, it felt good. In contrast, I actually shot more accurately with the AK-47. I must note the AK had standard iron sights where as, the M-4 and AR-14 both had red dot sights. How I was more accurate with the AK-47 I do not know.

“Danny” even commented saying that I should go fight for the terrorists instead being that I’m a better shot with their weapons. LOL! I told him, “Not a chance, they don’t have a PJ program!”

“Nowadays, with things being the way they are its hard for the military to recruit. I’m just glad there are still guys like you who are willing to carry on the torch of the United States Special Forces,”

-       -"Danny”, Prior Service Marine Recon Sniper and mentor.

***I realize this isn’t a very interesting or insightful post but it was fun and I thoroughly enjoyed it. At this point in time I’m almost caught up to the current events. I have been writing about these events that have already occurred months ago purely from memory. So a reminder that when I quote someone it may or may not be verbatim but it is important to note that the message and events are accurate and embody the original tone.

Today as I’m writing this (12/5/11), I have only two more planned posts. The first is about my most recent PAST and the unfortunate turn of events that followed and the second is about the PAST test I’m about to take this week (12/9/11). I will do my best to get the first of the two up this week and next week I will detail the most recent test with some good news entailed. After those posts you may notice that my posts may lack the substance of previous posts as not many events remain before my ship date (1/3/12), we shall cross that bridge when we get there.

Again thank you for the viewership and if you are reading this I would appreciate it if you actually subscribed! Thanks for the love!

HOOYAH!

The Grind That Gave Way To New Found Motivation: 01/03/2012

“Look towards your future,”

-“Phillipe”, Peer, Motivator, and God willing a future SEAL.

Probably the hardest part about this whole process is the waiting. I know how I’ve already preached about keeping motivation high and trying to immerse your self as much as possible which is definitely crucial. But motivation wouldn’t be such an issue if the wait wasn’t so long.

Unfortunately in almost always is. I’ve heard from very few people who sign up and ship out a month later, it seems uncommon. Once you do get your whole application in order and receive a contract for a specific job from the Air Force that is when the wait really begins.

That period of time where you don’t know if you should take classes and get a job because you don’t want to have to withdraw or quit in three months time. Of course your not guaranteed to get a ship date in that time frame and when you don’t you wish you did have a job or had taken a few extra classes while you were waiting around. At least that’s how I felt. Then again if I did have a job and classes who knows what I would’ve sacrificed training wise. Maybe my run times would be a little slower or my push-ups would have suffered.

It’s just a grind.

I workout. that is all I do, day after day. It begins to get monotonous. I kept constantly finding myself hitting that wall after about a month of training. Especially if I had no one to push me, and help motivate. I don’t care who you are, you burnout working by yourself. Top-level triathletes, swimmers, even cyclists have a team to work with and help push one another. Unfortunately, Pararescue isn’t a hugely sought after career due to the degree of fitness involved and the danger related to the job. I was lucky that my recruiter even had another person interested in the field.

I think I was lucky living in the Florida area as I was able to find groups of like-minded individuals and train with them to keep my motivation up. Initially, I had enlisted while I was in Pittsburgh, living with my mom. However, after a time there I began to miss my sister and family back home in Florida and applied for a courtesy ship so I could return home. Fortunately, it was approved. Now when my contract does come around I can process out of Miami instead of Pittsburgh.

As I was saying though, Florida gave me a lot. I found a local bike shop, On Your Mark Bike Shop (http://www.oymbike.com/), that sponsors a small team of individuals who participate in triathlons. I began training with them. Running and swimming were my focus but riding on a bike became a great way of cross training. It helped that my dad was a cyclist and could outfit me in some of his gear, as cycling is an expensive sport. But having this group of people to workout with on a weekly basis was unfathomably helpful.

Once I moved back home to Florida I was no longer able to work with my training partner “Jack,” the fellow PJ wannabe. So I made it a point to find another group of military guys to workout with. As I was prepared to walk into the Navy recruiter’s office and find out when I could workout with their SO candidates (Special Operations) one of my buddies from college and fellow fraternity brother had made the decision to enlist into the Navy as a NUC (Nuclear Engineering). So I began working out a training with him and his fellow Navy DEP members. It was fun, lots of fun.

Once a week these guys would wakeup at 0730 and meet at the beach at 0900 Saturday morning to PT for a solid two hours. Total body workout. It hurt. But damn did it feel good afterwards. I met several guys that I hope to keep in touch with throughout the rest of my lifetime, one was probably one of the most motivated men I had ever met in my entire life. The guy radiated self-confidence and motivation. I look forward to every chance I have to hangout and PT with “Phillipe.” Every word out of his mouth is positive and inspiring. If he heard something he didn’t like or that wasn’t what he wanted to hear, he would yell out “INFRACTION! Time for punishent!” and we would drop to the ground and start pushing dirt.

Surrounding myself with great training partners and like-minded individuals was the only way I could’ve gotten through this long wait period. It made those months seem like they flew by. Because before I knew it my contract was in front of me, and I had a date: 01/03/2012. On that day, I would be at Lackland, AFB in San Antonio, TX. On that day, it will be Week 0, Day 1 of BMT. On that day my journey will begin!

“This is your life now you’re hardcore!”

Physical Ability and Stamina Test: 01

"The more you sweat in peace... the less you bleed in war,"

-General George S. Patton

Approximately a week after my visit to MEPS I was scheduled to take my first official PAST test. I was notified that we would be leaving my recruiter's office at 0745 so I should arrive promptly.

The drive wasn’t too bad maybe 45 minutes tops before I found myself sitting outside the pool waiting for everyone else to show up. According to my recruiter the test wouldn’t begin until 1100, and here we were about two hours early. I zoned out for must of the time before the test and just sat around hydrating while I waited. I hydrated, dehydrated, and hydrated some more.

Another PJ wannabe like myself, the training partner who I mentioned in a previous post came along as well. He however, just had surgery on his eyes to correct his vision and unfortunately the doctor forbid him to swim for a month. My friend, “Jack,” would still do his best to pass the run and calisthenics portions of the test though.

Eventually more wannabes and their recruiters showed up and like most competitors do before an event everyone began sizing up one another. There were two individuals who I remember specifically, one was built like a basketball player, he must’ve been 6’5” and lean as hell. I assumed he would be fast in the water with those arms. The second was shorter than myself, probably 5’8”, but jacked! The guy was all muscle, which won’t help you in a swim but he looked fit as hell, and I knew he would be fast.

I told myself that these two were the men to beat. I was going to take them out. My recruiter had mentioned to me previously that there was a few individuals taking their final PAST test that day. So I assumed that if they failed and I passed that there could be a chance that I could take their slot. He told me the two I previously described were going for PJ.

Finally, 1100 rolled around and right that minute our test administrator walked in. He was tall and built like a brick house, and a PJ to boot. My training buddy “Jack,” tried picking his brain a little for advice during the lulls between events and was told that “You either have it, or you don’t.” After that the PJ was pretty much stone-faced and said little. With little delay all the wannabes changed into their swim gear and formed up on the pool deck. We were briefed on the order of the test and that which was required of us and then it started.

First up, were two 25-yard underwater swims. You start at one end of the pool and when given the command to go, you inhale as much air as you can and swim to the other end of the pool without surfacing, or breaking the surface at all. If you do in fact break the surface at all the whole test is considered a failure. I remember looking around at the other candidates while I was swimming underwater. There form was off. I guess not all of them were given the chance or privilege to train with a PJ. Upon reaching the other end of the pool you are required to surface and freestyle back. After completing this you take a 3-minute break and do it a second time. This didn’t faze me as I had been practicing by training 50-yard under waters.

We were then given a 10-minute break before the 500-meter swim was to begin. The swim portion was my nemesis. Growing up in Florida you would think I would be a capable swimmer, but I wasn’t. I hadn’t seriously started swimming until I decided becoming a PJ was what I wanted to do. The worst part was probably the waiting. That pool was cold. My teeth started clicking, my body convulsing and shaking on its own, goose pimples breaking out all over my body. It was cold. On the command of go we pushed off the wall and started swimming, 22 lengths later and it was over. My time: 9:40. Not great, but passing. Like I said I wasn’t a swimmer. However, somehow I was first out of the twelve of us swimming. Hooyah!

Everyone hit the showers and changed during the 30-minute break before the 1.5 mile run portion of the test. I was one of the slowest getting changed and when I left the locker room I saw that everyone was still grouped up inside standing around with their thumbs up their butts trying to talk to the PJ or just bullshitting. I walked up to my recruiter and told him I was headed outside to warm-up on the track. I’m not wasting my break.

Once I left it seemed that everyone realized they ought to do the same. Everyone was stretching out, jumping around but still making light of the situation. I remember one kid specifically the tall giant I described earlier starting bullshitting about the run.

“Hey we should all get a big group run going with a nice pace with one another,” he said. “We could draft off one another and all finish strong.”

I laughed. “No,” I said, with an intense look on my face. “My goal is to pass all of you, and then lap as many of you as I can.” I can’t believe I said that! The words were out of my mouth before I even thought about it. Immediately all talk and bullshitting stopped but no one replied or said anything to me after that. “I just made myself a target,” I thought.

 Sure enough probably about 29 minutes into our break the PJ comes out and announces that we have about a minute before we start. We were lining up on the corner of the track right before the turn. I found myself on the fourth lane, thinking, “Oh crap, I’m going to get cut off by one of the seven guys on the inside of me right off the bat. I need to sprint right away and get in front so no one trips me up or slows me down immediately.” Sure enough the count down began and I began pep talking myself.

“10…”

“Okay Kyle here we go, get ready…”

“9…8…7…”

“You got this, you talked the talk, now walk the walk…”

“6…5…”

“I got to sprint… I got to sprint…”

“4…3…”

“Stride it out…”

“2…”

“...”

“1…GO!”

Now to quote one of my favorite movies, “From that day on, if I was going somewhere, I was RUNNING!” Got to love Forrest Gump. And boy did I run. I walked the walk. I sprinted out the gate and cut everyone off going into the turn. I got in front and stayed there. I lapped four individuals during that run. I don’t know how, it was only a mile and a half so they must’ve really been running slow. My time: 8:56. Not bad. My goal was an 8:30… maybe next time.

I couldn’t believe it though, I crushed the swim, destroyed the run with no one even close to being on my heels. I felt good. But it was time for calisthenics. I made it a point to go last. Out of 12 people, I made sure to be the last person to go. I figured it would just be extra time to regain my energy. Pull-ups were first, I did 11. Then sit-ups, 54. Then Push-ups, 59. Not what I wanted, but it’s passing. My calisthenics are not my strong suit. I didn’t know it then but they would wind up becoming the weakest link in my final PAST test months later, not the swim.

After the test it was time to head back home after a nice lunch with the other wannabes and recruiters. I ordered a beer to celebrate. I had recently turned 21 but never put it to any use as I had been training so intensely for Pararescue.

Everything in moderation I suppose. But I prefer the saying, work hard… play hard. I celebrated a little more that night.

MEPS: Medical Entrance

“Integrity First.

Service Before Self.

Excellence In All We Do,”

            -Core Values of the United States Air Force

As the first of my alarms began blaring I proceeded to roll out of bed and groan with the misery I already felt washed over me. You know what I’m talking about, that feeling when you wake up and immediately feel like you haven’t slept at all. All because of my roommate, who somehow had managed to turn off the television and eventually pass out.

I opened my hotel room door and dragged myself through the hallway proceeding to provide courtesy wakeup calls for the other candidates in the hotel. After making my rounds I found myself back in my room, brushing my teeth, taking a shower, and packing my bag. It felt as if someone was doing it for me and I was just being moved from one place to the next. I was in zombie mode. A feeling I know I will become more acquainted with in the near future.

The other candidates and myself found our selves in the dining room of the hotel loading up on a breakfast buffet. The food was good. By good I mean shit. But I was grateful to have something in my stomach. After all, free food is good food.

We then finished our breakfast and straggled outside where we proceeded to line up half hazardly in front of the hotel waiting for our bus. A couple of the candidates proceeded to smoke or dip and get their tobacco fix in as they would be indisposed all day. I saw the “other PJ candidate” pull out his cigarette and lighter and just laughed to myself. What a joke.

At this point it was approximately 0450 and we were told that the bus would be arriving at 0500. It did. However, we weren’t allowed on it for some reason. It wasn’t until nearly a half-hour later that we were allowed to board the bus.

At this time I remember what my recruiter told me, “Be sure to get on the front of the bus. People in the front are the first to be selected for their tests while people in the back would have to wait.”

Basically I was told that if you are in the front you could be done with MEPS an entire 3 hours earlier than the last person on the bus. So my roommate and I made sure to be the first on the bus.

Eventually, we were on our way and drove the 10 blocks to the MEPS station where we proceeded to wait.

And then we waited some more.

We were forced to sit on the bus for a solid thirty minutes before we were curtly ordered off the bus by an Army Sergeant. Everyone mentally snapped to attention and filed off the bus where we were ordered to line up single file and prepare to enter the building and go through security. As we exited the bus the “other PJ candidate” continued to walk out of the line naturally formed as we came out of the bus single file and come stand next to me at the front. This caught the Army Sergeant’s attention.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked.

“Aren’t we… about to go in?” replied the “other PJ candidate.”

“I said line up single file get the f!@# back into line, jeez!”

It was all I could do to suppress my laughter. Needless to say I was smirking slightly. After a brief… briefing… we went inside and arrived to the MEPS station. Upon arrival we had to check-in and receive our folder, which would contain all of our medical information gathered that day. Being in the front, I was one of the first to check-in, unfortunately, they said I wasn’t in the system or scheduled to be at MEPS that day by my recruiter. So I was told to fall back into line in the back. So much for first in, first out.

It turns out it was just a mistake something wrong in the system and I was allowed to continue. We then went to the recruiter’s offices of the MEPS center where we dropped our bags in our perspective branches office and then left to begin our medical screening.

Now I could go into detail about each little thing and describe the insignificance of it but, it’s insignificant and droll. So no thanks. They took blood, urine, administered hearing and vision tests, duckwalk checks, body checks, weight checks. Like I said droll. At some point we were allowed to break for lunch and I did so. Then came the fun part, waiting to sit down with a recruiter and go over your qualification options.

For me this part was tedious. Being that I was going for Special Forces slots were not available for me because candidates must successfully pass a PAST test in order to qualify and receive a contract for PJ, CCT, TACP, SOWT, even EOD requires one now. I knew this ahead of time and that I would be required to choose four other careers as back-ups for my contract until I qualified for PJ. So that is what I did here are the four I had decided on prior to arriving at MEPS:

1) Operations Intelligence

2) EOD

3) Aerospace Medical Service

4) Fire Protection

Like I said though EOD required a PAST and somehow I didn’t qualify for Fire Protection. I don’t know how or why and when I asked the recruiter he pretended to ignore me and changed the topic. So this threw a wrench in my plans because I had my set four yet at the same time I didn’t really care I’m not going to do any of this in the Air Force. But I was made to choose four and this is what I came up with:

1) Operations Intelligence
2) Tactical Aircraft Maintenance (Don’t know why I chose this, it just was something to choose).
3) Engineering
4) Aerospace Medical Service

How I can qualify for Engineering and not Fire Protection I don’t know but whatever. After this meeting with my recruiter I was sentenced to another long waiting period before I electronically signed my contracts via fingerprints and was sworn in. But within another three hours I was out of there and called my recruiter to pick me up. I walked out of MEPS grateful to see the sun and curious as to why any service member would want to work at one, it seems like agony.

I must say the best part of the day however was when I arrived back at my recruiter’s office and he handed me an Air Force t-shirt and shook my hand it felt great. I love that t-shirt, I kind of wish I had asked him for another, lol!

All that was left for me now was to take and crush my PAST test, which is exactly what I did. But I’ll get into that next time.

Interview With a Pararescue Jumper

“I Am An American Airman.

I Am A Warrior.

I Have Answered My Nation’s Call.

I Am An American Airman.

My Mission Is To Fly, Fight, And Win.

I Am Faithful To A Proud Heritage,

A Tradition Of Honor,

And A Legacy Of Valor.

I Am An American Airman.

Guardian Of Freedom And Justice,

My Nations Sword And Shield,

Its Sentry And Avenger.

I Defend My Country With My Life.

I Am An American Airman.

Wingman, Leader, Warrior.

I Will Never Leave An Airman Behind,

I Will Not Falter,

And I Will Not Fail.”

-Airman’s Creed

Prior to taking my practice PAST test with my recruiter and “PJ Bob” I had actually met the PJ before. One day I was contacted by my recruiter and told to make myself available to come down to his office for a DEP meeting. At this point in time I myself wasn’t officially a Delayed Entry Program member as I had yet to complete my MEPS evaluation and sign my contract so I wasn’t required to attend the DEP meetings every month.

I don’t know if it is just my recruiter or the branch of the Air Force itself but I’ve heard that Navy and Marine DEP candidates are required to attend DEP meetings 1-2 times a week, whereas with my recruiter I know our meetings were merely once a month.

Anyways, I made sure to get there early and I even brought my Mom along, as she wanted to meet the Pararescue Jumper as well. Upon arriving to my recruiter’s office, which was mostly empty save for a couple other individuals who arrived early, I was greeted my two Airman sitting behind my recruiter’s desk. One instructed me to sign in for the meeting but I informed him I wasn’t a DEP candidate yet but that I was there to meet a PJ. At hearing this he seemed to perk up and told me that he was the PJ and introduced himself as Airmen First Class “Bob”. (I change the names of individuals in my blog so as not to reveal there identity as I don’t have their permission to write about them and seeing as how this is a Special Forces member I though it best to omit.)

“Call me Bobby though,” he insisted.

“I can do that Bobby,” I replied with a huge grin on my face.

I was almost overwhelmed at meeting this kid he wasn’t what I expected. He was still but a kid, only 22 (a year older than me), and built almost identically as myself. I’ve never been a bulky guy, but rather skinny and lean. As I’ve grown older and gained muscle I still haven’t bulked up. I expected a PJ to be well… bigger.

Immediately I hit it off with Bobby as he began talking about his training and a few very general things. Prior to meeting him I compiled a list of questions to be sure to ask him when we met, I never once referred to them. I soaked in every word Bobby said. He described basic training as being a hindrance to his fitness as he actually got out of shape in basic. He told me that because of the amount of physical training (PT) the Air Force Special Forces candidates must do that they have been separated into their own “Warrior Flight.” So basically when I get to basic I can expect to be in a flight consisting of only men (as most of the Special Forces jobs restrict females) and more PT than that of the other flights… Fine by me. He told me that during basic they were told that they would be given time to train in the pool to keep up their swimming fitness but that it never occurred.

“Hopefully,” said Bobby, “by the time you guys get there they’ve worked out all the kinks and get you some pool time.”

“That would nice,” I replied.

We then began talking about the point of interest: Indoctrination.

Bobby described to me in detail everything I’ve read or seen in the documentaries.

“Dude,” he said, “The first few weeks, don’t make friends. You know the fail rate is high and that most all of these guys aren’t going to be there in just a few weeks. So don’t make friends, because when they quit, and they will quit, it just that much more of a punch in the gut if they were your friend. The whole process is just surviving the onslaught the instructors inflict upon you, but you just got to think to your self never quit, never quit. Never quit.”

“It’s all mental bro,” he continued. “Yeah physically it hurts but you got rationalize it. Rationalize everything! Think to yourself you can’t quit on a Monday, the week just f!@#ing started. On Tuesday you can’t quit, because s!@# it’s only the second day of the week, you can’t quit. Wednesday, forget it your halfway through it’s hump-day and your almost over the hump. Thursday, well damn I’ve made it through most of the week I got to keep going now. Friday, f!@# its Friday who quits on a Friday with the weekend staring them in the face. Then it gets to be Saturday and I mean it’s the weekend come on. It doesn’t matter what the instructors do to you because the sole fact that it’s the weekend makes things better. Finally, Sunday… man you just made it through the entire week, what’s one more day?”

“That’s what you got to do. Rationalize everything! Guys would get freaked out because they start thinking about the whole week. If your always two weeks into the course and you start thinking about what you have to do tomorrow and the day after, and the day after that, and then the week after, and that’s only the third week. That is when guys start mentally defeating themselves. You can’t do that”

When he said this it reminded me of something I read in Marcus Latrell’s book Lone Survivor and something he recounted that their captain said to them, “Don’t think about each individual event, just think about what it is you have to do now. Eventually it is going to end if you just focus on one element at a time your going to get through it. Just do what is required of you right here, right now and before you know it the course will be over.” (This isn’t verbatim of what was said in the text, but seeing as I lack the physical text in front of me at this moment because I loaned it to a Navy friend, you get the idea. This is the core of what he said.)

Bobby went on to enlighten me in regards to the roommate situation. Telling me that I will have the pleasure of rooming with many individuals during the Indoc course because of the people who quit. When individuals start quitting you will be reassigned to other rooms with other roommates he said that wasn’t important but what is important is if a roommate starts talking negatively, leave. Find another roommate.

“That s!@#$ contagious! You will notice as you get further along into the course and guys start making friends that some of them will quit together. They will talk about it in their room about how they’re thinking about quitting or how dumb the whole process is. Whatever, it is… just get out. Leave that room, because it follows people and sticks in their heads. You can’t think like that or be around that. Make sure your roommate isn’t one of those. If he is find another quitter and make your roommate move into his room.”

I seared those words into my brain.

“What about Extended Training Day? How was that?” I asked.

“Oh man, ETD was insane. The whole time your in this zone, you are out it. They are making do workout after workout and you just do it. During the pool sessions though bro, that’s where it got crazy. You would be hearing that air horn going off constantly.”

(Bobby is referring to the air horn the instructors make quitters use after declaring that they no longer wish to remain in Indoc).

“And that’s another thing, don’t carry that f!@#$%! air horn bro it’s toxic.”

“What do you mean,” I inquired.

“The instructors make you carry it,” he replied. “Trust me dude, you don’t not want to carry that thing it has toxic gas in it or something man. You would see someone volunteer to carry it and I kid you not they would be blowing that thing a little while later. You know you are doing whatever on a ruck or something and in someone’s pack it starts getting jostled around and you hear it go off for the entire ruck run that shit eats you up bro. I remember one time my teams commanding officer told me to carry it, I was like ‘Pffffft… you can carry that your own damn self… sir!’ and I walked off. He made someone else in our class carry it because he knew about its poisonous powers and sure enough the next guy to quit later on in the week was the guy carrying it.”

I forget the exact number but I believe Bobby told me that ~125 candidates started Indoctrination but by the time they reached ETD only 40 remained and after there were a mere 26. From everything I had heard from the reading I’d done and the videos I’ve watched this was still quite high that far into training. I asked him out of those 26, how many graduated Indoc and 13 was his response. Out of those 13, only 5 completed the “pipeline” on time. This surprised me and I made it a point to ask, he said the biggest thing was due to guys making dumb decisions during the rest of their subsequent training. One such incident involved a potential PJ drunk driving which results in an immediate Dishonorable Discharge from the Air Force.

God, I couldn’t imagine.

“What about the pipeline training how was that?” I asked.

“Oh dude, that s!@# was fun bro. At first we went to Ft. Benning for our jump training and man that was boring though I must admit. Probably the most boring part of the pipeline training. It took us 3 weeks to complete it. Dude, I could easily complete all of those jumps in 24-hours… easy. You’ll be told that you have a jump and so you get your chute packed and meet in the hangar and wait. You’ll be waiting all day and finally as its starting to get dark they’ll tell you, after 6 hours of sitting there doing nothing, that there is to be no jump that day. Waste of time dude.”

“After that we went to dive school and that was easy, you come out of Indoc as a freaking fish bro that didn’t phase me a bit. Then we had our Egress training that was fun. They put you in a replica helicopter that they can submerge into the water at will and pull it back out. I remember we did that training with the Combat Controller’s as well and they had us go in as teams.”

“They let the CCT’s in first and they started freaking out as soon as the simulator crashed into the water. The instructors tell you that you are not allowed to unbuckle until you are fully submerged and these guys were flipping out reaching for their harnesses. It was chaos. Once they were fully submerged they went to the door and couldn’t get it open and started freaking out letting bubble of air escape, it was funny.”

“Next they put us in and boy did we toy with them. Once we were fully submerged we just sat there and eventually unbuckled ourselves. Instead of just going for the door and bolting we all swam around explore the cockpit and just chilled, the instructors hated it,” Bobby explained with a wicked grin. “It was great.”

“Finally we opened the door and came out and the instructors flipped on us yelling at us for messing around and not taking it seriously. So they decided to challenge us and filled the simulator with a bunch of extraneous objects: pots, pans, a freaking Gatorade cooler. To make it even tougher they put a bunch of mannequin babies in with us that we had to rescue before fully exiting the simulation.”

“So we sat there buckled in and as the cockpit sank and tilted, I look up and the cooler is coming right at me and busts me in the face. As we become fully submerged the water in front of me is red because I’m bleeding from my nose. I immediately grab two baby mannequins and open the door and bolt out. My buddy, this big hulk of a guy proceeded to grab like six babies and go for the door. But her couldn’t get out due to the babies coupled with the size of his frame. So he starts tossing babies out the door and swims out. That s!@# was hilarious!”

At this point in time we had been talking for quite a while and he brought us to the back of the recruiter’s office where a pull-up bar hung from the ceiling.

“Let’s see how many pull-ups you can do,” he said.

And so me and the other two PJ wannabes did some pull-ups and sat and picked his brain some more. We asked him about how long is a PJ deployment and he said approximately 120 days, but that they deploy more frequently. We discussed the typical career progression of a Pararescue Jumper and he said that it depends on what that person wants to do but that anything is an option. He did reveal that a lot have started making the jump to becoming a Combat Rescue Officer, which works in tandem with PJ’s in that they help coordinate the missions but don’t have a direct hands on role with patients.

When it seemed every question I had in my mind was finally answered I remembered one.

“What is Black Thursday?” I asked. “I’ve heard it mentioned in the video documentaries and tried researching it but nothing comes up, what is it?”

“Bro, I can’t even begin to describe it. It’s… it’s… it’s something you are just going to have to experience for yourself,” he said with a wicked grin. “You see the instructor sitting up on his lifeguard chair with his shades on, man does it look evil. Then you hear those words, Black Thursday and your heart just sinks.”

“Oh boy, I can’t wait,” I replied enthusiastically.

At this point in time we talked about meeting up to do some training and exercises at some point later in the week, he gave me his phone number and we parted ways. But I would see him a few more times before he returned to his unit.

Never Quit… Never Quit… Never Quit.