Basic Training

One of the highlights of our 2019 was attending the Air Force Basic Military Training graduation of our son. John had graduated from college and taught elementary school for three years before he made the decision to sign up. We kidded him that he just wanted to deal with drill sergeants because that would be easier than dealing with parents of elementary school students. OK, maybe we weren’t kidding.

Anyway…it had been ten weeks since we’d seen him. Eight weeks of Basic plus two weeks with a knee injury in medical hold. Our only communication was through letters and three precious ten-minute phone calls. I knew that the experience was  going to be a challenge and life-changing in a good way, but the lack of communication was hard.

His letters were mostly a tongue-in-cheek recital of daily life and Air Force regulations, along with tinges of yearning for a little privacy and his playlist. He took time to tell us how he discovered a way to make peanut butter French toast with various components in chow. He also told us about some of the other trainees, like one whose wife had a baby and how it motivated the new dad.

So here we are in the blazing May sun in San Antonio waiting for the coin ceremony, talking with parents around us. We discovered that Mrs. Anderson sitting next to us has a son who was in John’s flight. She was very involved in her son’s entire BMT experience. They wrote each other every day. His letters were filled with dreadful accounts of things going on within their flight. There were countless arguments, fistfights, and missed privileges for all due to bad behavior of a few. I wanted to cry as I listened. Had this whole experience been like hell for John and he just wasn’t telling us?

Then all 800 of the trainees came marching in formation until his flight stopped directly in front of us and I locked eyes with my firstborn. I knew he wasn’t allowed to move or smile or acknowledge me, but I knew he saw me. My heart swelled as they shouted their oaths and coins were presented.

At the end of the ceremony, the newly-minted Airmen weren’t allowed to move until they were tapped out by a loved one. His dad and I agreed that I could have the honors that day. Ohmigosh, I’m tearing up now thinking about it. I tapped him on the shoulder and he hugged me SO hard. I won’t ever forget it. I could tell by looking in his eyes that he was tired but okay.

As we talked on the field among all of the other reuniting families, I spotted Mrs. Anderson with her son. I pointed them out to John and told him about all of the problems she’d heard about from her son. His response? “Oh, that’s Anderson. He’s a complainer.”

Simple. Direct. True. You can focus on the positives or complain about the negatives. That most basic of all the lessons he learned in Basic may be the best thing that any of us can learn.