Tag: SERE

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Ever Feel Like Someone was Trying To Put One Over on You?

The world is plenty tense right now. Sometimes you just need a smile. I didn’t make it as a SERE Specialist (survival instructor) in the Air Force, but I heard some of their fun stories. Here are a few I hope you’ll enjoy.

To become a SERE Specialist, you’ve got to conquer many hardships. Aside from a very vigorous physical training regimen, you endure hunger, thirst, lack of sleep, conditions that are very cold, very hot, very wet, very dry, very demanding, and that require a great deal of perseverance. These people have learned that overcoming obstacles sometimes requires tremendous grit or discomfort, but the prize is worth the struggle. That’s why they get very annoyed when they’re charged with students who whine about having to perform easy tasks out in the wilderness during survival school.

The people attending survival school are people facing an elevated risk of capture. While those in some jobs are more accustomed to dealing with discomfort and challenges than others (Special Operations Forces, for example, tend to whine less than students from other career fields), the instructors at survival school also teach people who have never spent the night outside, or who have never had to face challenges requiring them to dig down deep within themselves to keep going. Other career fields showing up at survival school include pilots, navigators, flight engineers/crew chiefs, airborne linguists, aerial refuelers, door gunners, etc.

Adding to the dynamic is the general “wussification” of training requirements over time. I don’t know how tough things were before I went through, but I know things got easier after I attended the course. Students had to carry less weight, or walk shorter distances, or they received more food, or got more breaks. You can probably start to get a sense of a SERE Specialist’s ire when one or more of the students they’re escorting complains about how tough it is to carry their little 15-pound improvised ruck sack up two hills in a row.

Sometimes the SERE folks like to have a little fun with the students. They’ll mislead them every now and then when the opportunity presents itself. Even though the SERE Specialists are teaching valuable skills like land navigation, fire craft, shelter craft, and pointing out naturally occurring edibles, that doesn’t mean it has to be taught in a dry way. I heard one instructor recount how he was driving in a bus full of students to the wilderness training area when they came across an unusual sight. Loggers had stripped a hilltop bare, and the only feature on the now-naked hillside was a dirt road that encircled it, winding around and around until reaching the top. One student asked about it, and the instructor replied “those are topographic lines. They match the ones on your map. All mountains have them, but these are more obvious because we paid to have all the trees removed so you could see them. They’re not usually that easy to see when you’re navigating out in the field, so you’re going to have to pay close attention out there.”

On a different occasion, a class was making its way on foot from one point to another, building their land navigation skills. Students at this point are usually rationing their food and getting a little hungry, so instructors don’t want to do something blatantly mean, like eat a meatball sub in front of them, but they might have a cheek full of sunflower seeds as they walk along. One particular instructor brought a bunch of peanuts with him, still in the shell, and he ate them as they walked along. While they all stopped for a periodic break, he decided to play a little joke. Most of the time, peanuts still in the shell have a little slit on one end. If you squeeze the shell just right, the slit opens up a little. While the students were drinking water or checking their azimuth, this guy squeezed a bunch of peanut shells and hung them on the branches of a small tree. Then he called everyone over to share in his discovery. “Hey guys, come check this out! Oh, man, did we luck out, we found a peanut tree! We should pick this thing clean, these are hard to find! Everybody get in here, grab what you can, don’t leave anything for anybody coming behind us. Anybody allergic to peanuts?” Some people, of course, got the joke right away, but there are a lot of people out there who don’t know how peanuts grow.

One more. SERE Specialists have to be prepared for all kinds of serious situations in a difficult environment. They need to be prepared to deal with medical emergencies like broken bones, dehydration, heat injuries, allergic reactions, snake bites, puncture wounds, all kinds of stuff like that. In cold weather, the ability to quickly start a fire can mean the difference between life and death. There are all kinds of products available for quickly starting a fire. Out in the wilderness training areas, one of the most versatile is fire paste. Think of a tube of toothpaste, but the stuff you squeeze out of the tube is flammable. It’s great stuff, you can use it in a lot of different scenarios. One instructor used fire paste to try to combat some of the “wussification” I mentioned earlier. On a land nav break, he pulled up a half-buried rock, smeared some fire paste on the bottom of it, then tucked it back in its hole and packed the loose dirt back down so it looked undisturbed. “Hey everybody, get a look at this! Boy, did we luck out! This right here is a fire rock!” Lots of people with confused looks came and gathered around, and to their amazement, when the instructor held a lighter up to the rock, it caught fire. “Oh, man, this is gonna be great! Everybody else is gonna be jealous when you come rolling into camp tonight with fire rocks. You’ll be able to get a fire going in no time, and that’s good news when you’re trying to set up camp in the dark. This whole area’s full of ‘em. Gather up anything you can carry, we’ll use ‘em tonight!”

SERE Specialists have some unique opportunities to have fun at work. It’s good to be able to enjoy yourself and get paid for doing your job. If you spend a lot of time around the same people (family, colleagues, etc.), try to lighten the mood every once in awhile. There’s no sense trudging through your day with a frown all the time.

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The Good Ol’ Red, White, and Blue

Have you ever met someone that stayed positive and upbeat almost all the time?

Before I get into my story, I have to explain something to the non-military types reading this. When you’re in the military, there’s a lot of misery and generally terrible conditions you have to be prepared to endure. (After all, you don’t normally fight wars in the nice parts of the world.) As part of the coping mechanism, military branches and units try to buck up their troops with camaraderie and esprit de corps. There’s mixed success with this tactic, but it truly does help to know that when you’re trudging through the mud or up a mountain, your fellow troops are right there alongside you, and you’re not miserable alone.

Also, everything in the military is an acronym. Sometimes there are acronyms inside acronyms. It gets a little crazy. Don’t quote me on the history of this next part, but I think it was the Army that came up with the acronym “HUA.” It stands for “heard, understood, acknowledged.” It’s the military version of saying “got it.” It started getting applied in all kinds of situations. “Soldier, I need you to get rounds on that target NOW, do you understand me?!” “HUA!” Or maybe “we’re gonna grab some Chinese, then meet at the theater at 9, hua?” Over time it morphed into having different meanings; it became kind of a greeting, a rallying cry, or just something to say when you don’t have anything else to say. (I know a dude, long since retired from the Army, who couldn’t go more than two sentences without saying it somehow. “Hooah! Beautiful morning!” “Hooah, enjoy your day!”)

Different branches of the military are funny; a lot of times they want to do the same sort of thing but they don’t want to copy anyone, so they modify things a little. “Hoorah!” “Huh!” “Hooah!” “Oorah!” Where I spent time in the Air Force, it was “Hooyah.”

Anyway, all that’s prelude. When I tried out to be a survival specialist, we had to deal with a lot of uncomfortable, miserable, and/or physically arduous tasks. While we were waiting around for class to start, we spent the weeks doing different things like go on ruck marches in the mountains or in state parks with heavy packs, go on mini field trainings for three or four nights (think camping, but not quite as comfortable), and do a ton of physical training.

There was this one guy, Carl, who was relentlessly optimistic. Whenever he walked into the room or area where a bunch of us were, he’d greet us with a “hooyah, team!” He was so upbeat he came across as kinda goofy sometimes (this guy’s not really like this, is he?). If we’re on a ruck march, he’s bouncing back and forth to different groups of us, lifting our spirits. If we’re getting smoked during PT, he’s the one asking for more and encouraging the rest of us along the way. On one mini field training, when we’d already been out in the woods for a few days without any shower and we smelled like smoke, were tired and irritable from poor sleep and non-stop mosquito bites, and were generally over-tasked with things to do, Carl’s the guy looking for opportunities to goof off in a way that brings a smile to somebody’s face. This picture was one such moment. The other guy was hamming it up a little for the picture, but Carl saw him looking closely at the ground for a piece of gear or something and Carl seized the opportunity for a morale-boosting photo op.

One of Carl’s trademark moves was when we were all assembled at the start of the day. As the American flag was raised each morning to the sound of a bugle call, our formation snapped to attention and saluted for the duration of the music. As soon as the NCO in charge of us gave the call to “order arms” and go to parade rest (stop saluting and return to a more relaxed state), Carl would pipe up with a lone voice and shout “Hooyah, America!” Our instructors liked the sound of it so much that before long, we were all doing it in unison, every duty day.

Today’s our nation’s 248th birthday. That’s a long time for a nation to use a single constitution. We’ve had a lot of ups and downs as a country. Today it seems like the nation is trying to tear itself apart while adversaries band together. I came across the following statement and felt like it resonated with our current times. It applies to both men and women, but I wanted to present the original quote:

“Hard times create strong men, strong men create good times, good times create weak men, and weak men create hard times.”

We’ve been through some tough times as a nation, and it feels like we’re in one of them now. We can get through this one, but it will require strong people standing up for truth and justice. Hang in there, speak truth to power, and help out a neighbor or someone you see who needs a hand.

Happy Independence Day, and Hooyah, America!

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There’s a Fine Line Between Hooligans and Criminals

Here’s a story that hopefully gives you a chuckle.

Early in my time in the Air Force, I tried out to be a survival instructor. The class only started twice a year at Fairchild Air Force Base near Spokane, Washington. While waiting around for the next class to start, we did lots of exercising and other physical training to prepare our bodies for the rigors of the upcoming course.

One of the things we did on a weekly basis was load up our ruck sacks and go on long hikes in a state park or some weird trail or on public land out in the boonies. The idea was to keep our bodies accustomed to bearing heavy loads for a long time as we moved over miles of terrain, and along the way practice some land navigation. We were fortunate enough to have some pretty relaxed superiors while waiting around for training to start, and since we’re talking the Air Force (not the Army or Marines), they told us “hey, as long as they’re decent, you can wear civilian clothes during this ruck; the only guidelines are that you wear the issued boots you intend to wear during the course and you must bring a loaded ruck.”

Now, when you go for long hikes once a week, it doesn’t take long before you start repeating trails. One of the sergeants in charge of us had an idea to help break up the monotony. He had family an hour or two away from the base; his parents lived in Idaho somewhere, I think. He worked out a plan to have us go for a hike near their location, then we could spend the night at his parents’ house, and we’d come back to base the next morning. As far as training goes, this was very casual and actually a really generous thing for his parents to do. (Would you be willing to host 20-30 very fit and very hungry males with an extra dose of testosterone at your home? I wouldn’t.)

When we went on our hikes, we physically took up a lot of room. There were a lot of us, and we each had a large ruck sack, so we normally took a big bus that was pretty much a navy blue school bus with a very “for official use only” look to it. We piled in, drove off to whatever trail we were going to hit that day, and did our hike.

I don’t remember the details, but for some reason, when we finished our hike and got back to the bus, we needed to kill some time before we could go to the house. We ended up driving into town where a high school baseball game was going on. I think maybe the sergeant wanted to say hi to the coach, who was an old friend or something. We didn’t really know, our attitude was “hey man, I get on the bus when they tell me, I go where it takes me, and I get off the bus when it stops.” Well, they told us to leave our rucks on the bus and come outside to watch the game.

As we spread out on the grass, dozing in the sunshine, shooting the breeze, or watching the game, we looked around and started noticing some of the locals looked uneasy. None of us could figure out why. We hung out for maybe 20 minutes to half an hour, then got back on the bus and rolled out to wherever we were going next. We later found out they thought we were from a nearby prison and were out on a work detail whose very limited supervision was chatting up the baseball team’s coach and not paying much attention to the bunch of rough-looking guys, wearing the same boots, with similar haircuts and no facial hair, all piling off the government-issue bus.

I guess if I had to pick a moral to the story, I’d say even though it might not be your fault, sometimes people are going to make assumptions about you based on how you look or the vibe you give off. Before you get mad at them, don’t be afraid to step back from the situation and maybe even laugh at yourself a little. Cut them some slack. You might’ve jumped to the same conclusion if you were in their shoes. Or boots.

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Only Jagger Moves Like Jagger. Try Moving Like You.

In my early Air Force days, I pursued training to become a survival instructor. The Air Force is the only branch of service where you can spend a whole military career as a Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape (SERE) Specialist. The other military branches have them, but they’re only temporary assignments, something you do for a few years at most before returning to your regular job. Anyway, that’s free info; now back to my story.

The main SERE school is at Fairchild Air Force Base near Spokane, Washington. The course all SERE Specialists were required to pass only started twice a year, so folks put together a program to keep us busy and out of trouble while we were waiting around for class to start. We were together just about all the time. Every weekday we worked out in the mornings, and then afternoons varied. One day a week we’d do a full PT test in the morning and a timed 7-mile ruck march after lunch. One afternoon a week we’d have details (more or less do chores, restocking supplies, cleaning up or repairing things around our building). Once a week we’d go to a state park or something similar and go for ruck marches up and over mountains, where we’d practice our land navigation and keep our bodies accustomed to carrying heavy weight for a sustained period. There were lots of other odds and ends to keep us busy while we waited for class to start (help unpack moving vans for the families of students who had started class and were out in the field, help perform maintenance on the equipment getting used by the class ahead of us, etc.).

One of the standard activities we did was to spend time in “the back 40.” The back 40 was a section near us where we went to learn and practice some of the skills we’d need once we started class. Here we learned to sharpen and swing an axe, how to start fires with the stuff around us, how to build a shelter out of parachutes, all kinds of skills you’d need to survive in the wild. The course we wanted to pass had a high failure rate, and the instructors found that this type of orientation helped prepare students for the training, resulting in fewer washouts.

We were all part of a very physical career field, and as a result, it seemed like someone was always heading to the doctor. Although we’d all gather at a certain spot before heading out to the back 40, it became common practice for those returning from appointments to meet up with the group at a certain spot the group passed on their way to the back 40. One day we were all heading out to the back 40 when we saw a guy in the same uniform as us, wearing his ruck sack just like we were, standing motionless and waiting for us at this spot. Someone among us asked “who’s that?” We all took a look up ahead, trying to figure it out. Someone said “he stands like Jones.” A quick look around the group verified that Jones wasn’t among us, and as we got closer, it turned out that it was indeed Jones. We spent so much time together that someone in our group was able to identify someone off in the distance, who was dressed just like us and had the same haircut, simply by the way he stood.

There’s a story in the Old Testament where something similar happened. In 2 Samuel chapter 18, an aging King David was waiting for news from a battle. As he sat near the city gate, the watchman on duty announced two separate men running toward the city. While they waited eagerly for the messengers to arrive, the watchman said in verse 27 “I think the running of the first is like the running of Ahimaaz the son of Zadok.” Here again is someone who’s able to identify another from far off by the individual’s kinesthetics. The way their body moves, or their posture, gives away their identity. Each of us is so different from one another that the way our bodies move gives us away, like a fingerprint.

Of all the people God could’ve chosen to live the life you’re living, He chose you. We’re unique individuals God stitched together, with no two looking, moving, or behaving exactly alike. In all that uniqueness, God prepared challenges for you in this life that you’re superbly qualified for. Other people could do it, but God chose you to do it. Embrace your uniqueness, whatever that looks like, and live the life God’s called you to live. You’re the best person for the job.

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An Apology to the Taxpayers

I’m sure you’ve heard stories of some kind of wasted taxpayer money before. Well I’m sorry to say that some wasteful federal spending once happened because of me (at least on a smallish scale).

This is back in 2004, and the Air Force was paying my salary at the time. I was stationed at Fairchild Air Force Base, near Spokane, Washington. While I was waiting for some paperwork to go through, I supplemented the folks teaching water survival.

It was a cool gig. I don’t remember what happened each day of the week, but one day out of the week was a course where they simulate being in a helicopter that crashes in the water and rolls over as it sinks. Two other days out of the week was a course where they taught students how to signal from the ocean, how to use rescue devices that were dropped from aircraft, how to use radios and distress beacons, and the course culminated in a big production in the indoor pool where the students climbed into a big aircraft simulator that then “crashed” into the ocean. There were two already-inflated life rafts lashed to the side of the pool (with ice water inside). The lights were all shut off, a thunderstorm soundtrack played from enormous speakers up in the rafters, and strobe lights simulated lightning. As the students evacuated the “aircraft” and jumped into the water, my job was to spray them using a fire hose while on a catwalk up above. I’m not gonna lie, it felt crazy to be getting paid for stuff like this.

These courses were pretty messy and took some time to set up. We used the other two days out of the week to clean up all the wet gear and reset it to prepare for the next course. Those were good days to schedule medical/dental appointments and any other type of official errands that Uncle Sam mandated.

This goober is modeling a pair of fully inflated LPUs

On one of those days, I was at some kind of appointment at the beginning of the day, then returned to the pool to help with prep. As it turned out, while I had been at my appointment, one of the instructors taught my colleague (someone that was supplementing, like me) how to pack LPUs, or Life Preservation Units. An LPU is a piece of survival gear that some aviators wear. When you’re descending toward the water while dangling from a parachute, you can pull the tabs on your LPU and two big high-visibility pontoons will inflate in a flash, providing more than enough buoyancy to keep you afloat.

Well, when I got back to the shop, my colleague showed me how to pack an LPU. Each LPU had two CO2 canisters that, when punctured by pulling the inflation tabs, quickly inflated the pontoons, even if completely submerged. Packing the LPUs meant unscrewing the old canisters, resetting the pull switches, screwing in new canisters, and then folding up the big orange/pink balloons into small compartments that could be easily worn by an aviator.

Packing LPUs

Unfortunately when my buddy showed me how to pack LPUs, he didn’t show me the right way. The two of us packed tons of LPUs and set them on the shelf, thinking they were ready for students in future classes to use. When they got pulled off the shelf and used during an actual lesson, students that ran off the diving board expecting their LPUs to inflate midair had to end up swimming for it.

While that’s obviously embarrassing for the water survival instructors, that’s not the part I owe taxpayers an apology for. The way the LPU puncture mechanism worked, it wasn’t physically possible to properly reset the mechanism without removing the new CO2 cylinders, and it wasn’t possible to remove the unused CO2 canisters without puncturing them. We had to intentionally pull the inflation tabs, knowing it would waste two perfectly good cylinders per LPU. Each cylinder that was improperly installed in an LPU had to be unscrewed and tossed on the floor, shooting all over the place like a corkscrewing balloon while turning ice cold from the sudden expansion of compressed gas.

Considering all the LPUs we packed and a rough guess that each CO2 cylinder cost about $10, we’re talking hundreds of dollars of wasted taxpayer money. It would’ve been far better to each waste a pair of cylinders by doing a quality control test after packing just a pair or two of the LPUs rather than the way we did it.

Yep, they all need to be packed

So for those of you that dutifully paid your taxes back in the 2003/2004 timeframe, I’m sorry I wasted some of your hard-earned money. The Government is funded by the people, and you deserve better than that. I wish I’d known to correct the mistake sooner! It’s been almost 20 years since I’ve been around LPUs, but that lesson has taught me to keep an eye out for ways to head off the wasteful use of resources (even if it’s as simple as making my kids finish the food on their plates before they can be excused).

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Your Tax Dollars (Not) at Work

Hiding on Grandma’s couch is one of the only things this camo pattern’s good for

Right after Basic Training I got shuttled off to another section of Lackland Air Force Base near San Antonio, TX. It was here I began the long road to become an instructor for Survival, Evasion, Resistance, & Escape, or SERE.

Of course, right after Basic, you’re not much good for anything aside from doing what you’re told. It’s nothing personal…you just don’t know anything yet. You have to hang around for awhile and learn how things are done (sadly, the thing that makes the most sense isn’t commonly done). Our first week or so after arriving at SERE was spent doing what we call “in-processing,” which in our case consisted of some paperwork and sitting around listening to lots of briefings. We didn’t interact with the SERE instructors during that week other than to say “hi, we’re here;” we did our in-processing en masse with administrative troops that did it full time.

One day, probably the week after we finished all our in-processing, I think our instructors had some stuff they had to take care of at the school building, so they sent us back to our dorms to do our details…where we cleaned up and were supposed to make the place shine. One thing that’s important to understand…this was in early 2004; we were in the midst of two wars and the military infrastructure to support them was crying uncle in some places. Rumor had it that the dorms we were staying in had been condemned, but had been pressed back into service for the war effort. We could do our details for weeks, but it was only going to make the place look so nice, you know? Sending students to do details in the dorms was just a way of keeping them out of our instructors’ closely cropped hair for awhile.

Now I was still pretty new to this, but apparently we didn’t get sent back to the dorms to do details very often, and when we did, it was seen as a great opportunity to goof off. The training was pretty intense, so having some free time was a nice thing to have, because we were all wound up pretty tight.

I guess I happened to be standing in the wrong place at the wrong time. One of the more senior students pointed at me and said “You, you’re on Sergeant watch.” He sat me by a window where I could see the main entrance to our building. If I saw anybody that wasn’t a student approaching the entrance, especially any of the SERE instructors, I was supposed to raise the alarm.

I have no idea what everyone else was doing, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t what we were supposed to be doing. If one of our instructors had snuck in the back door and caught us, we would have paid pretty dearly for it. I was still young enough in my Air Force career not to know it, but punishment through physical exercise was something you come to embrace in SERE Indoctrination. Uniform look like garbage? Get down and start doing flutter kicks. Is your hair too long? That’s a set of pushups for each hair that’s touching one of your ears. Suffer an egregious lapse in judgment during the weekend? Heaven help you.

After staring hard out the window for awhile, one of our SERE instructors rounded the corner of the building, heading toward our door. I was still so new that I didn’t even know the guy’s name. “It’s Sergeant…one of the sergeants is walking up the path!”

One of the more senior students rushed to the window to get a better look, and sure enough, he saw Joe walking toward the front door. With a muttered curse, he ran out of the room and down the hallway, letting everyone know they needed to look busy…now. About 10 seconds later, guys were mopping the halls, vacuuming the Day Room, washing windows, dusting stuff that didn’t have a speck of dust on it, and scrubbing stuff you never even thought about scrubbing.

Joe wasn’t a sadistic dude, but if he had caught us goofing off, he would have dropped the hammer on us! It would have been one of those “everybody do pushups until I get tired” moments. Then after hearing us struggle for awhile he would have said “are you getting tired?” When we said yes, he would have said “okay, roll over on your backs and start doing flutter kicks.”

I wouldn’t say we performed our duty in an honorable way that day, but it provides a different bit of context to a famous Bible verse about being watchful. First Peter 5:8 says Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.

I don’t think Joe came there to try to catch us doing something we weren’t supposed to be doing. He was probably just coming to the dorms to say “okay, we’re ready for you to come back now,” but if he had seen what we were actually doing, you can bet he would have devoured every last one of us. Whether he was intentionally trying to catch us or if he caught us as targets of opportunity, the result would have been the same: we’d be toast.

The devil is the same way. Constantly on the prowl, he’s looking for believers to devour. I don’t think he bothers too much with nonbelievers…he already owns them, so why would he waste effort on them? He’s looking for enemies to pick off. Sometimes he’s targeting a firmly planted Christian through an ongoing campaign against them, and other times he comes across a Christian that’s teetering on the edge of something they’re not supposed to be doing. If he sees that, he’ll put his campaign on pause and pounce on the target of opportunity. Enticing that believer to sin enables a whole host of tools that can be used against them to cripple their effectiveness as the hands and feet of God (guilt, shame, desensitizing of sin, fear, doubt, follow-on consequences, etc.).

Therefore, as Peter says, be on your guard and on high alert, because your enemy’s looking for an opening where he can nail you. Don’t give him the opportunity.

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Don’t Underestimate the Importance of Solid Footing

After I passed the SERE Indoctrination course in Texas, the Air Force moved my fellow course graduates and I up to Fairchild Air Force Base in eastern Washington state. Fairchild AFB is the site of the Air Force’s main survival school.

In some ways the environment was more relaxed. The screening course was about two weeks long, but the upcoming course was six months long. With such a lengthy course that starts only twice a year, if you missed the start of one class, you could be waiting around for awhile before the next class began.

While waiting we had various tasks and activities to perform. We’d work out together in the mornings five days a week, with every Monday being a PT test that the rest of the Air Force only did once or twice a year. On Monday afternoons we’d do a 7-mile timed ruck march. The other afternoons during the week usually involved some sort of training in a section of the base where we could practice using an ax to fell trees or split wood, perform other firecraft training, or practice building shelters. Another afternoon was usually spent cleaning a particular building, repairing equipment, or prepping and resupplying stuff we’d used previously. Every now and then we’d spend a few overnights out in the forest somewhere, learning to use the skills and tricks we’d picked up.

One of the cool things we regularly got to do was grab our loaded rucks and pile into a bus and we’d get driven to state parks or national forests or some kind of wilderness that was open to public use, and we’d go on 10+ mile hikes to help prepare our bodies for the upcoming training. The only real rules given to us were that we had to carry a decent weight in our packs, we had to bring water, and we had to wear the boots we’d use in training, but aside from the boots we could wear whatever we wanted. It was a relaxed version of intense training and we’d get to apply more things we’d learned along the way.

About this time of year, April or May, we went for one of these hikes up in the mountains somewhere. There was still a lot of snow on the ground, but it was warm enough that the snowpack was melting.

Someone tell that goober that his survival vest doesn’t go with that outfit

We came to one spot where some small evergreens were sticking out of the snow. As we walked through the patch of trees, a few guys started sinking waist-deep into the snow. It was a total surprise to me. I had no clue what was going on…it almost seemed like some kind of snow shark was swimming around underneath us or something, picking us off one by one.

It turns out that during the winter, as the snow fell, the evergreens acted like umbrellas. The snow piled up around the outside of the trees, but near the trunk a snowless void remained. Weeks or months later when some unsuspecting Air Force students came walking along and got too close to the trees, the snow shifted underneath them and started to swallow them up. Though the trees looked small, their full height was hidden from view. In this picture, Carl walked right between two trees growing close together, and after sinking into the snow he had to get a hand up. The surface he had been walking on, despite its appearance, was not as solid as what he had imagined it to be.

Two are better than one because they have a good return for their labor. For if either of them falls, the one will lift up his companion. But woe to the one who falls when there is not another to lift him up. -Ecclesiastes 4:9-10

We live in strange times. Up is down, black is white, right is wrong, and wrong is right. The snow that humanity stands on is shifting around us, leaving us in a state of confusion with unsteady footing. As the world goes off in search of today’s version of a moral compass (and gets ready to change it tomorrow), build your life not on the shifting footing of the world’s ideology, but on the firm foundation of Jesus Christ, which does not change.

“Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock. And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not do them will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell, and great was the fall of it.”-Matthew 7:24-27

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Wait a Minute…How Epic Would it be if…

While training to be an Air Force survival instructor, the first hurdle to pass was a screening course that occurred immediately after Basic Training. Recruits fresh out of Basic spent a few weeks getting their bodies strengthened through rigorous physical training, leading up to the official two-week course.

Week 1 of the screening course involved performing a lot of tasks in preparation for week 2. The second week took place out in the field. Training on base can help familiarize you with a lot of things, but if you want to be a survival instructor, sooner or later you need to get away from civilization. Week 2 of the screening course took place in the scrub country on a military installation north of San Antonio, TX. Here we got our first real dose of land navigation, drinking scummy water, and eating things we normally wouldn’t consider eating.

During most of our time in the field we worked in pairs or in groups. There were lots of tasks and activities to perform, along with new things to learn. Then at the end, we spent our final night going solo. On that night our instructors gave us a list of items we had to accomplish and dropped us off in locations where we were isolated from one another.

The list of items seemed fairly long, but none of them were terribly complicated. I went through the course in March, so my biggest challenge was completing as much of the list as I could before dark. I think the first thing I did after getting dropped off was find a spot to set up my shelter. I set down my ruck, then looked through the list of tasks to see which ones would be best to perform during daylight.

One of the things I needed to do was make a ground-to-air signal out of the materials available. Since I needed to wander around a bit in order to scavenge items to use in building the signal, I wanted to make sure I got that done while it was still light out. I started collecting logs and brush to arrange in the required pattern.

I can’t remember if I was using an axe or a military-issue bolt knife, but I started hacking away at some brush. Almost immediately I heard a sound I’d never heard in person before but knew right away what it was. While thrashing in the scrub, I had disturbed a rattlesnake, and it let me know in no uncertain terms that I needed to back up.

Of course I was startled and jumped back. It didn’t take long, though, for me to have this thought…how epic would it be if I were eating a rattlesnake when the instructors showed up to pick me up in the morning? That would become, like, the stuff of legends back at the survival schoolhouse on base!

I eyed the snake as it started slinking away, trying to decide whether I should try to kill it or not. Here I was, about to pass the course. I was hungry, but wouldn’t have a problem making it until the next day without anything else to eat. I’d never eaten a snake before, so I wasn’t sure how to prepare it. Since it was venomous, there were plenty of ways for things to go wrong. All you did was cut off the head a little below the widest part, right? I think so…but, how much am I willing to gamble on that?

Was it a good idea? By almost any measure, no. Would it be awesome? Absolutely and unequivocally yes!

Should I make the decision with my feelings or with my head?

I watched the snake as it slowly left the area, still flirting with the idea. In the end, the risk didn’t seem worth it. I didn’t want to make some kind of stupid mistake that ended up with me being injected with (or accidentally eating) venom when I was on the cusp of passing the course…a course I had no desire to repeat. When it was all said and done I gave the snake a wide berth and decided to pick a new spot to build my shelter for the night…a spot that wasn’t so near the brush the snake had been hanging out in.

The penalty? This story is less cool than it could have been. (I passed the course, though.)

It’s funny how we make choices in life. I’d compare this experience to other times when we’re trying to decide whether or not to pursue something we know isn’t a good idea…pick whatever sin is especially hard for you to walk away from. Even when you know it’s something that could bite you in the end, there’s that draw that pulls on you. Despite the fact that you know it’s a bad idea, you may still spend some time thinking it over despite the fact that you know you should walk away.

This is something you probably know, but I’m going to say it anyway. The closer you stay to and the longer you flirt with doing something you know you shouldn’t, the more likely you are to do it. When you find yourself in that position, take action to just shut that door. Walk away from the computer if you’re about to start looking at stuff you’re not supposed to look at. Put your phone down and walk away from it if you’re about to text something you shouldn’t. If you get yourself into trouble when you’re alone, go somewhere where you’re around people. If you get yourself in trouble when you’re around people, go somewhere where you’re by yourself.

Sin isn’t always going to be as obvious as a rattlesnake, but God gave you a conscience for a reason. If you consistently ignore it, it’ll eventually leave you alone.

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You’re On Your Way to What You’ll Be Later

During my time in the Air Force I spent some time trying out to be a survival instructor. Known as SERE Specialists (Survival, Evasion, Resistance, & Escape), these professionals focus on preparing high-risk-of-capture personnel in the event they become isolated and cut off from friendly forces in neutral or enemy-held territory.

This was in 2004, so the Air Force was pretty busy at the time with both Afghanistan and Iraq. Lots of people needed SERE training, and there weren’t enough SERE Specialists to go around. To help boost numbers, representatives from the SERE career field spent time recruiting people while they were still in Basic Training. This got a lot of people interested, but before we could really get started with SERE Specialist training, we had to pass a screening course, known as SERE Indoc (indoctrination).

There are some odd situations that occurred along the way as a result of how things unfolded. In Basic Training, they really regulated what (and how much) you ate. You’ve got a bunch of civilians from across the country and its territories that in most cases had a little extra pudge when they first showed up to Basic, and you give them healthy food, but you give them less of it than they’d like. Everybody loses weight, and some people lose a lot of it. (When I graduated Basic Training, I think my Mom was a little traumatized when she saw how skinny Uncle Sam made me.) Then, when you’re the skinniest you’ve been in awhile, they fit you for your dress uniforms.

After Basic, I went to SERE Indoc, which was very demanding physically. It usually involved five days a week of rigorous PT…lots of running, pushups, pull-ups, and rucking with heavy packs. I don’t remember how much, exactly, but between being able to eat normally again and putting on a lot of extra muscle over a couple of months, I probably gained over 30 pounds from my low point at Basic. The buttons on my dress shirt were definitely stressed, and there was no longer a crease in my dress pants above the knee because they were more like spandex or leggings at that point.

Mom & Dad came to see my graduation from Basic. They barely recognized me!
Some $5 footlongs & a few thousand pushups later

I can honestly say that I’m no longer as muscular or as heavy as I was back then, so that adds still more volatility to the weight yo-yo. It’s been awhile since I tried on my old dress uniform; maybe I should dig it out of mothballs to see how it fits.

I went into each of those phases with one set of characteristics, and due to the conditions I went through, it led to a new set of characteristics. It’s the same for the Christian. Not only are you imperfect when you’re born, you’re still imperfect when you’re born again. From the moment of salvation until the moment you slip from this life, God’s working on your heart and on your mind, shaping you into a tool He can wield to accomplish things in or through you that you’re not yet prepared to do.

He’s refining unwanted things out of your character or preparing you for a coming challenge. Some seasons of life will leave you gaunt and weak. Others will make you stronger. It’s all leading somewhere, though. Rarely does the path you’d chart out for your life align completely with the path God’s chosen for your life. Looking back, it becomes easier to see how a phase of life or a certain string of events prepared you for something that came afterwards. Right now you’re on your way to what you’ll be later. Seek God’s will for your life and see Him do something wonderful. Keep seeking God’s will for your life and watch how He entrusts you with more responsibility and higher callings.

Not sure what God’s will for your life is? Start by increasing the amount of time you spend in prayer. Confess the things you’ve done wrong, then tell Him all the things you’re thankful for. Do this on a recurring basis and see where it takes you.

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Sometimes You Can’t Roll Your Sleeves Up Far Enough

In the Air Force I spent about four or five weeks preparing to pass a screening course for survival instructor candidates. As the time drew near for us to move from preparation to test time, the tone of training got more serious. Up until now we had been building our bodies and learning skills, but there was plenty of goofing off, too. The culmination of our time at Indoc was a nine-day course that was split between rigorous assignments on base and in the barracks for the first half, followed by a period of being out in the field for the second half.

On the last Friday before the course began, it was tradition for instructors to run students through “The Swamp.” The Swamp was a nasty section of Lackland Air Force Base that was just what it sounds like. Making it through the event was not a prerequisite for the course, but it was a way for students to begin making the transition from head knowledge to experience. (It was also fun for the instructors to do.)

A large portion of Air Force Basic Training was focused on professional appearance, making the uniform look good, and establishing a proper demeanor for recruits now living in one of the armed services. While that’s important and has its time and place, preparing to be a survival instructor carried with it a totally different set of objectives. The goal in a survival situation is to do just about whatever it takes to survive and return to friendly territory. A survival instructor goes through grueling circumstances so they better understand how to convey that crucial information to the students they’ll later teach. The Swamp helped students further overcome their reluctance to take actions they might not otherwise take.

Our outing started with some laps up and down a steep hill while wearing heavy rucksacks. We then made our way to the edge of the water. As we got near, we could smell the nasty, stinky, stagnant swamp. It was muddy, had some gross stuff floating in it, and we could only imagine what lived there.

We made our way to where the instructor indicated, then set down our rucks. We weren’t dirty enough yet, so he had us start low crawling through some of the muddiest channels. Naturally, you try to keep your head out of the mud when doing something like that, but that’s exactly what our instructor wanted to break us out of doing. “C’mon, get some mud on your face!”

All of us got herded into an area on the bank of the water, where we started taking turns leading exercises in soaked, muddy uniforms and heavy, waterlogged boots. Pushups, crunches, flutter kicks, eight-count bodybuilders, all sorts of calisthenics made more difficult or tricky by our environment. During flutter kicks, while our soaked boots were up in the air, water would run out of our boots and down our legs. On another occasion I remember that the ground was so soft, while I was in the pushup position my hands sunk down past my elbows into the mud. I couldn’t even bend my elbows to do pushups anymore! We alternately laid on our backs, then on our stomachs, all of us covered in mud except for our necks and heads.

Finally the instructor flat out told us to get every inch of ourselves covered in mud. Then, for his idea of a fun photo-op (which I think is fun too, in retrospect), he had us find some kind of plant to put somewhere on ourselves. By this time, you could hardly even distinguish between the students.

It’s tough to see, but yours truly is the fifth from the left

After awhile, our instructor called an end to the experience. We all headed back toward the bus. Since we couldn’t just walk onto the bus in our current condition, though, we had to get all the mud off. The stinky, dirty, nasty water that once seemed to stink so badly now washed us clean. We walked waist-deep into the water, bent down so the water was up to our neck, and in some cases even went all the way under. Considering how clean we looked when we came up, you wouldn’t know the water was so disgusting and swampy. It later took a few trips through the washing machine for those uniforms to become free of the swamp stink, but they eventually recovered.

This was a crazy experience. It was challenging, certainly, but it was very valuable. All the physical training we’d suffered through for weeks, or even months in some cases, and now this situation, demonstrated something very interesting to all of us: if we try pushing ourselves to the limit, we’ll arrive at our self-imposed mental blocks much sooner than we reach our actual limits. Maybe it’s been awhile since someone asked you: “Are you giving it everything you’ve got?” Maybe nobody’s ever asked you the follow-on question: “Yeah, but, are you really giving it your all?”

It’s also valuable to understand that when you’re confronted by difficult (or even miserable) circumstances, it’s a lot more tolerable when you have others there with you. If you’re headed toward something tough, link up with a few others so you can encourage each other along the way. Alternatively, keep your eyes peeled for someone who’s alone in the mud right now. It could be more encouraging than you’ll ever know for them to see someone wading into the mess to come alongside them.

(To see other posts related to the survival instructor indoctrination course, click here.)