"GET OFF THE BUS! MOVE, TRAINEE, FASTER!" a technical sergeant shouted over the rain and hail as the boys evacuated the bus, carrying their carry-ons form the plane and dashing up the stairs. In said stair well was and MTI on every platform.
"Don't stop until you reach the top dorm. MOVE!" The staff sergeant on the first floor yelled.
The boys hustled and ran into the dorm that was split into two bays of beds.
"Hurry up and get to a bed!" the technical sergeant yelled that was standing in the hallway at the end of both bays that connected them and led to the exit.
"Go to bed, trainees," The technical sergeant yelled when they all were standing at a bed. He hit the lights and slammed the door on the way out.
Sebastian lied in the bottom bunk of the second bunk bed on the right side of B-bay. He was cold from getting rained on, tired because it was four in the morning, his head hurt because he was hit on the head by incoming hail, and he was ready.
He heard and read everything there was to need to know about Air Force basic training. He's been training for these next two months for the past two years.
He looked at the papers they gave to him at processing. He was in Squadron 326 in flight 399. It felt so natural to him. He felt at home. This felt right to him.
He fell asleep with ease, knowing he was going to need all the sleep he could get for the next nine weeks.
He read stories where some MTIs let their trainees sleep in the first night, and there were other stories saying that at 0445, when reveille plays over the loud speaker, the MTI makes his or her trainees wake up and get to work.
Only one way to find out. Sebastian closed his eyes and easily fell asleep.
X_x
Sebastian blinked awake and checked his watch. It was ten in the morning. I guess his MTI wanted them fresh faced so they could watch them get torn down.
Sebastian got up, noticing he was the first one awake. He went to the bathroom and pulled back his Band-Aid that was covering the hit from the hail storm last night. It was still bad. Some blood was still trying to come out, and it was shining and scarring.
He replaced the bandage and exited the bathroom, exploring his new home. He noticed there was a day room. He walked in and noticed there was another guy in there.
He looked to be Sebastian's age. He had very pale skin, light brown hair, eyes that was blue one second, then green, then grey. He was wearing a simple black shirt and a pair of jeans with white running shoes. He was around 5' 11". His features were almost elf like.
"Hey," Sebastian said.
The boy gasped and turned to Sebastian. He sighed in relief when he noticed it was just another trainee like him.
"Hi," the guys said standing.
Sebastian was about to say something, but was cut off when he heard a crackle noise that you'd hear from an intercom.
"Hey, trainees in the day room, report to the box next to the door, now, and push the button," a voice of an MTI demanded.
Both Sebastian and the boy dashed to the box. Sebastian pushed the button on the box.
"Sir, Trainee Smythe, reports as ordered," Sebastian said fluently.
"You two the first ones awake?" The MTI asked.
"Yes, sir," Sebastian said.
"Congrats, you two are my chow runners. There is 2 papers on the desk in the room you were just in. Both of you take a copy. You two have one hour to memorize that script. I'll be up there in forty-five minutes," The MTI commanded.
"Yes, sir," Sebastian said.
The box turned off and sighed.
"What's a chow runner?" the boy behind Sebastian asked.
"You didn't do your research before coming in did you?" Sebastian chuckled as they went back to where they were.
"As much as I could. I know the rank structure and what not, but not the names of the duties," the boy said.
Sebastian noticed how soft his voice was. It was almost like a kitten mewling.
"Well, read up. We'll rehearse with each other, okay?" Sebastian said, "Trainee Smythe, by the way,"
"Kurt, but I guess here I'm Trainee Hummel," Kurt said shaking his hand.
The hour rolled on, and they read over the script and rehearsed with each other.
As that went on, the other boys slowly went started to fill in the day room.
"What are you two saying?" one of the Trainees said. He had a Mohawk.
"We're chow runners. You'll see," Sebastian said.
"When an MTI enters the room, you say male instructor approaching and all of you spit out a reporting statement," the MTI, who was a staff sergeant, informed firmly was he walked in the room. Everyone moved out of his way.
"Sit," he commanded, and everyone sat.
"Nope, stand back up. Too slow," The MTI said.
Everyone shot up.
"Sit," The MTI commanded. Everyone dropped.
"Nope, everyone is supposed to hit the floor at the same time. Up," The MTI commanded.
Everyone shot up.
"Sit," he commanded.
Everyone sat at the same time.
"Good. You," the MTI said pointing to a tall Asian guy, "Name."
"Sir, Trainee Chang reports as ordered," the guy spat out quickly.
"Your job for now is going to be the guy who sits near the door and says 'Male instructor approaching' when I'm coming," the MTI said.
"Yes, sir," the Asian said getting up and sitting next to the threshold.
"Where are my chow runners?" The MTI said looking at the crowd of sixty guys.
Kurt and Sebastian said their reporting statements at the same time, but Sebastian shot up and stood at attention flawlessly. Kurt stumbled a bit but made a tight recovery.
"Wait a second," the MTI muttered as he got up and circled around Sebastian, not finding one flaw in his posture for the stationary drill he just executed.
"Did you play a sport in high school?" The MTI asked.
"Sir, Trainee Smythe, reports as ordered. I played lacrosse for the four years I was in high school," Sebastian said.
"How long ago was high school for you?" The MTI asked.
"I graduated last month, sir," Sebastian said.
"You're not my chow runner. You're my new guidon barer," The MTI said, "Sit."
"Proceeding, sir," Sebastian said. The MTI nodded as he took his seat behind the desk again. He started playing with a squish toy before throwing it at the crowd nonchalantly. Another Asian kid caught it.
"Oh crap," he muttered under his breath as he took in his MTI's toothy grin.
"You're my new chow runner," the MTI smirked, "Trainee Smith, give him your paper."
"Proceeding, sir," Sebastian said handing the tanner Asian the paper he's been studying for an hour.
"You have until dinner chow to memorize that. Other chow runner," The MTI said.
"Sir, Trainee Hummel, reports as ordered," Kurt said, praying that he didn't trip over his words.
"You're going to be addressing the snake pit this chow. Your wingman will get dinner chow. Now… CHOW RUNNER GO!" The MTI called.
Kurt shot up and practically jumped over the other boys and dashed out of the door, but stopped when he noticed no one was following.
"What're you waiting for chow runner?! I said Chow. Runner. GO! Lesson one FLT 399: Never go anywhere without a wingman," the MTI shouted as the other chow runner dashed out of the dorm with Kurt.
Kurt and the other chow runner ran outside and was stopped by a technical sergeant.
"Follow me," he said walking into the dining facility. Kurt and the other chow runner stayed close behind as the technical sergeant explained how to approach the snake pit.
Kurt saw an MTI sitting, and waiting.
They were along the silver liner in line.
Kurt looked left and right before stepping forward and doing a left face. He took two steps forward and centered himself on the podium that was attached to the snake pit.
He waited there, standing at attention. The MTI looked up and looked him up and down. Before going back to texting.
Kurt waited for five minutes before the technical sergeant cut it.
"Ssgt Allen, address him," the Technical sergeant said, sounding pissed that that staff sergeant behind the desk didn't address him.
"What?" she snapped.
"Ma'am, Trainee Hummel reports as ordered. FLT 399 dormitory B8 is prepared to enter the dining facility from the east side," Kurt said easily.
"He new?" Ssgt Allen said to the Technical Sergeant. He nodded.
"Hmph. Bring them in," she said moving some tiles on the podium.
"Bring them in. Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am," Kurt said doing a right face and exiting.
"That went so much better than I thought," the Technical sergeant said leading Kurt and his wingman outside where they saw their flight being yelled at on how to fall into a proper flight formation.
"Guide!" the staff sergeant from the dayroom yelled.
"Sir, Trainee Smy…" Sebastian shouted from the back of the flight.
"You're up here," the staff sergeant commanded. Sebastian quick stepped to the front of the formation in front of the fourth person to the right.
"You four that are in front of my formation, you trainees are my element leaders," the staff sergeant labeled.
"Yes, staff sergeant!" they sounded off together.
"Call it chow runner," the staff sergeant said, "FLT 399 you better sound off."
"Flight 399 prepare to enter the dining facility from the east side!" Kurt shouted, liking how the MTI gave a nod of approval.
"Proceeding, sir," some of the flight shouted, most of them sounding confused.
"Oh cute… That was REAL CUTE FLT 399! You wanna sound like men sometime today?! If not, we don't want you in this Air Force!" the staff sergeant snapped, "Say it again chow runner!"
"FLT 399, prepare to enter the dining facility from the east side!" Kurt shouted again.
"PROCEEDING, SIR!" the rest of the flight yelled. Kurt noted that Sebastian was the loudest.
"All key personnel fall out, fall in, followed by the fourth element!" Kurt commanded, feeling more confident.
"Right HACE!" the technical sergeant commanded Kurt and his wingman. They executed it, Kurt without flaw, and his wingman stumbled.
"You wanna wake up sometime today, other chow runner?" the staff sergeant yelled.
"Proceeding, sir!" he answered. They went back in the building and marched to the table with the MTI at it, more famously known as the snake pit. The female staff sergeant was gone, but there were now three officer ranking MTIs at the table.
"There is no special protocol for reporting to officers during chow runs. Give them a verbal greeting before saying the flight is in," the technical sergeant instructed.
"Yes, sir," Kurt said, determined not to screw up.
The officers carried on their conversation until they noticed Kurt not to long after he posted.
"Oh, cool the new flight came in. What can I do ya for?" the youngest looking one said. He looked to be no older than his late twenties, early thirties at oldest.
"Sir, Trainee Hummel, reports as ordered, Good afternoon, first lieutenant Brown. Sir, Trainee Hummel, reports as ordered, Good afternoon, first lieutenant Velazquez. Sir, Trainee Hummel, reports as ordered, Good afternoon, second lieutenant Jordan. Sir, Trainee Hummel, reports as ordered, the first Trainee of FLT 399 dormitory B8 has entered the dining facility from the east side," Kurt said without skipping a beat.
1LT Brown clapped and nodded.
"He's gonna make it," he said to the technical sergeant as he pointed at Kurt.
"Yeah, he hasn't messed up so far. Let's see how far that streak goes," the technical sergeant said.
"Okay, Trainee Hummel, seat them, feed them, and then leave," 1LT Brown said.
"Seat them, feed them, and then leave. Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," Kurt said as he posted did a right face to post.
As he was marching over to relieve the current chow runner, he took note of his posture and look. She wasn't wearing a web belt, feet twelve inches apart, one hand behind her back as if she's at parade rest, and the other was pointing to the tables she was posted near, and her back was straight.
Kurt removed his web belt and did the proper facing movements to post behind her.
"Detail, prepare to be dismissed," Kurt said.
She went to full parade rest.
"Detail, tench HUT!" Kurt commanded. He could see the MTIs at the snake pit making a whipping gesture and nodding in agreement.
"Detail dismissed," Kurt said.
"Detail dismissed. Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," the female trainee said as she collected her web belt and went to go get her food. Kurt posted and did his job without having to be corrected.
X_x
"DAYROOM!" the flight heard one evening while they were putting their laundry marks on their boxers.
They all stopped what they were doing and immediately raced to the dayroom, learning with in the past two days to go in chest to chest to fit more people in quicker, less they were put on their face.
"Male instructor approaching," Trainee Chang said.
"Sir, FLT 399, reports as ordered!" They gave as one flight, as opposed to shouting their own individual reporting statements at once.
The MTI looked generally impressed.
"Already forming unity, I see. Sit," he said.
"Proceeding, sir!" the flight said as they all scrambled to the floor in one mass.
"Okay, I know this week has been hectic, and you've heard me do nothing but yell, but this is called airman's time. This is the only time we're not in training mode. This is our time. An hour per day, and you guys get to ask almost any questions when I say so. Deal?" the staff sergeant said in a civilized tone.
"Deal," the flight chanted.
"Good, so can anyone tell me my name?" the staff sergeant said looking at his trainees that were sitting on the floor while he was in a desk chair behind the desk in the room.
Everyone was about to answer, but then they noticed he hadn't had his ABU top on.
"Okay, this is normal. I am SSgt Miguel, and I'll be your MTI all throughout basic. Your other MTI, SSgt Gimahara, is actually on leave, so it's just you, me and the other random MTIs that will be helping me out until she returns next week. Okay, I have a question: who came up with the mass reporting statement?" SSgt Miguel asked.
"Sir, Trainee Duval, reports as ordered, Trainee Smythe did," Duval answered.
"Smith, aren't you my guide?" SSgt Miguel asked as he scanned the crowd of tightly packed trainees.
"Sir, Trainee Smythe, reports as ordered. Yes, sir, I am," Sebastian said.
"How's that hit healing up?" SSgt Miguel asked.
Sebastian pulled back the bandage and showed his wound. He took it that it wasn't looking so hot when he showed SSgt Miguel.
"Just, uh, cover that up, we'll send you to Reid when we pick up our ABUs tomorrow," SSgt Miguel said.
"Yes, sir," Sebastian said covering it back up with the bandage.
"And I'm not saying your name correctly, am I?"
"It's pronounced S-MY-the, sir, but I commonly get called Smith," Sebastian said with a shrug, "Even after I introduce myself. It never fails."
"Noted. Okay, who here came in here as open general?" SSgt Miguel asked.
Half of the flight raised their hands.
"Damn, how many of you knows what that means?" SSgt Miguel asked.
Only Kurt and Sebastian still had their hands raised.
"Okay, chow runner, what's that mean for you guys?" SSgt Miguel asked.
"Sir, Trainee Hummel, reports as ordered. It means we don't have a definite career assignment. It means that judging on what we're qualified for, we're going to basically be put in a lottery of careers based on our wish lists, and we're going to be assigned a job from there," Kurt answered.
"Good job. That's basically it, so tell me, chow runner which job are you hoping for?" SSgt Miguel asked.
"Med group, sir," Kurt said.
"Seems legit. What about you, Smythe?" SSgt Miguel asked.
Sebastian kept his inner happiness that his MTI learned his name.
"Sir, Trainee Smythe, reports as ordered. I want Security Forces and to be in the K9 unit by the time I'm a Senior Airman," Sebastian answered.
"You're now my favorite person in this room. That's what I do," SSgt Miguel said with a proud smirk.
Sebastian's eyes lit up like a child on Christmas day.
"Who's my first element leader?" SSgt Miguel asked.
"Sir, Trainee Clarington, reports as ordered," a big guy with blonde hair said from the back.
"What're you going to be?" SSgt Miguel asked.
"Fire fighter, sir," Clarington answered.
"Second element leader," SSgt Miguel asked.
"Sir, Trainee Anderson, reports as ordered. Crew chief, sir," Anderson said.
"Third element leader."
"Sir, Trainee Hudson, reports as ordered, Security Forces," Hudson said.
"Fourth element leader."
"Sir, Trainee Crawford, reports as ordered. Ammo," Crawford said.
"WHOA! Are you freakin' British?" SSgt Miguel asked.
"Yes, sir. I'm from Liverpool, England," Crawford said.
"Holy crap! This is awesome. Can you say 'pip pip cheerio'?" SSgt Miguel asked.
"Pip pip, cheerio," Crawford said. Everyone in the flight was trying to keep a straight face, and not laugh so they wouldn't upset the MTI in the room.
"Hey, this is airman's time. You can laugh. This is the time to let everything out," SSgt Miguel said.
With that being said, everyone, even Crawford, started laughing.
"Sweet… I got a British guy… take that TSgt Mason," SSgt Miguel said with a triumphant smirk.
"Sir, Trainee Hummel, reports as ordered. Who's TSgt Mason?" Kurt asked.
"Oh, yeah. So you guys know that you have a brother flight, correct?" SSgt Miguel asked.
"Yes, sir," the flight answered.
"Well, you guys are going to get to know them pretty damn well because when we say brother flight, it's like you guys are brothers now. For those of you that make it out of basic, they will be your brothers. One team, one fight. They, however comma, have separate MTIs. They have TSgt Mason and SSgt Wilson. They are also in charge of you should me or SSgt Gimahara have something and we both can't show to work. Got it?" SSgt Miguel said.
Kurt raised his hand.
"Yes?" SSgt Miguel asked.
"Sir, Trainee Hummel, reports as ordered. Did you just say however then the word comma?" Kurt asked.
"Yes. You're going to hear it for the next two months. Better get used to it now and… did anyone ever tell you that you look like an elf?" SSgt Miguel asked.
Everyone in the flight turned to Kurt and examined his face, nodding and making sounds of approval.
"Yes, sir," Kurt said, "Sadly I have."
"Hey, I think it's cool since my favorite holiday is Christmas, the only time of year where I can get some ham with pineapple and now one looks at me weird and Legolas was pretty badass in Lord of the Rings, and Dobby was my favorite character from Harry Potter," SSgt Miguel said with a smile.
"I completely agree, but my favorite harry potter character was Peeves," Kurt nodded.
"You're a potterhead?" SSgt Miguel said with a childish twinkle of happiness in his eyes
"From book one, sir," Kurt nodded.
"Nice," SSgt Miguel smiled and nodded.
Airman's time went on until the next appointment they had to go to. It was a drug test in the middle of the night, but Sebastian didn't care, because tomorrow, they'll be graced with their ABUs. He couldn't wait.
X_x
"This is awesome," Sebastian said as he was issued his PT gear and ABU cap.
"What squadron are you from?" the detail airman looking for his pant size asked.
"326," Sebastian said. The people who worked in clothing issue made it clear that they don't want reporting statements.
"Oh, you're gonna just love going over that steep ass bridge after you're done here," the airman snickered.
"I think I can handle it," Sebastian said accepting the pants from the airman.
"Good to hear. You're a Guidon Bearer, aren't you?" the airman asked as he eyed Sebastian.
"Sure am," Sebastian said.
"Figures. Good luck with the rest of basic," the airman said patting Sebastian on the shoulder.
"Thanks," Sebastian said.
-two hours later-
"Let's go! We don't have all day!" SSgt Miguel shouted as his flight struggled to get into formation properly with their now stuffed duffle bags crushing their spines, disk by disk. Only few had an okay posture. Sebastian was standing at attention, praying that his flight would hurry up.
"Either you're going to stop being fat and lazy, and move, or we're going to drop, and I'm gonna make you double time on the way back!" SSgt Miguel said.
Kurt was desperately trying to stay up, and was succeeding. He was helping the others with their strap so they could hold their duffle bags easier on their backs.
"Thank you, Trainee Hummel, for being a good wingman. You can teach this flight a thing or two about that because it seems common sense and courtesy is in LIMITED SUPPLY AROUND HERE!" SSgt Miguel barked.
Kurt finished the last one as they started helping each other. He also noticed that SSgt Miguel was holding his duffle bag on his back too, but he wondered what his was filled with.
The march back was brutal, especially going uphill then trying not to tip over going back down the steep incline, but halfway through, SSgt Miguel started calling cadences.
"Whatever comes out of my mouth, better come out of your ten times louder, FLT 399," SSgt Miguel said.
"Yes, sir," the flight tried to say without strain.
"Here we go again…" SSgt Miguel shouted.
"HERE WE GO AGAIN!" FLT 399 rumbled loudly, catching the eye of bypassing flights, their brother flight, and trainees on bas liberty with their families.
"Same old crap again…"
"SAME OLD CRAP AGAIN!"
"Marching down the avenue…"
"MARCHING DOWN THE AVENUE!'
"Eight more weeks and we'll be through…"
"EIGHT MORE WEEKS AND WE'LL BE THROUGH!"
"And I won't have to look at you…"
"AND I WON'T HAVE TO LOOK AT YOU!"
"Ugly brother flight smellin' like poo!"
"UGLY BROTHER FLIGHT SMELLING LIKE POO!"
"You won't have to look at me…"
"YOU WON'T HAVE TO LOOK AT ME!"
"Wishing you could look like sexy me…"
"WISHING YOU COULD LOOK LIKE SEXY ME!"
They felt proud to have been that loud and make it back to the squadron without error.
"You were wrong for that, Ssgt Miguel," Tsgt Mason, one of the brother flights MTIs laughed.
"My flight is better looking. Look at my guidon, he must've got all the girls in high school, eh?" SSgt Miguel said.
"Sir, Trainee Smythe, reports as ordered. Something like that, but pretty much," Sebastian answered with a straight face.
"Plus, he's like 18 and yours is like 30," SSgt Miguel said, "So I win."
"We'll see," TSgt Mason said with a devious smirk. SSgt Miguel knew what he was talking about when he heard their watches beep.
"CHOW RUNNER GO!" they both yelled.
Kurt immediately dropped his duffle and snatched Montgomery's off as they raced to the door and won, not wanting to be on their face.
"Stop right there Ellwood and Turner. On your face," TSgt Mason told his chow runners.
"Proceeding, sir," they said dropping together.
"I win," SSgt Miguel smirked as he stuck his tongue out at TSgt Mason.
"Yeah, whatever. We still have eight more weeks right FLT 398?!" TSgt Mason shouted.
"Yes, sir!" they answered.
"FLT 399, they maybe your brother flight, but let's show them who the big brother is, eh? HOOYAH BULLDOGS!" SSgt Miguel shouted.
"BULLDOGS WOOF WOOF!" FLT 399 shouted then barked.
"Did you feel that earthquake, 'cause I sure did," SSgt Miguel smirked.
X_x
Today was the day. The day that SSgt Gimahara was supposed to come in. Everyone was hard at work, doing details to make to place spotless.
"Female entering the dorm," the entry controller yelled.
"FEMALE ENTERING THE DORM!" the flight yelled.
There stood a short Asian lady who had what looked like a permanent scowl on her face. Her dark hair, which the flight was convinced was as dark as her soul, was pulled back into a perfect tight sock bun. Her eyes dark and judging every last nonexistent hair one every one of her new trainees shaved heads, her physique was clearly at the pinnacle of her age, which seemed to be very young.
Everyone ceased all conversation to hear the first words she had to say about the flight.
"Holy crap, SSgt Miguel, their all fat! Every last one of them!" She yelled.
This was going to be a hell of a next two months.
(a:n)
hey everyone, its me, and this is a story that I had stored since basic training. if there is any lingo that I didn't explain in the story, merely inbox me and I can elaborate. we use a lot of acronyms here so:
MTI= military training instructor
BMT= basic military training
TSgt= technical sergeant(E-6)
SSgt= staff sergeant(E-5)
MSgt= master sergeant(E-7)
IS= instructor supervisor
so till then comment to tell me what you guys think.
love ya lots,
this gal