SERE (1993)

Survival, Evasion, Resistance, Escape -- that's what's drummed into your head during the AF survival school which is mandatory before donning the flight suit and actually 'flying' as part of an aircrew. It's not necessary for passengers ;)

Whilst dominating the NCO Academy class at RAF Upton (Map), UK in January 1993, I fell in love with England during my 6 weeks there. Nominated for the Commmandant's Award (top 1% of the class), I lost to my competitor but managed to garner a Distinguished Graduate award anyway. I only mention this because both my supervisor and first shirt decided to go to the Germany NCOA graduation in which none of the Iraklion Air Station (IAS) students won a bloody thing. Two of us (out of three) UK graduates won awards - neener, neener, neener! The supervisors and first shirt mainly went for the beer in Germany, I'm sure.

PME ribbon

Upon my return to Crete, after tossing my award on the first shirt's desk with an acerbic 'thank you for your support', I submitted the paperwork to volunteer for airborne duties as we IAS ground-borne 20875As were transferring to RAF Mildenhall either as flight crew or ground. There were very few ground slots so it made sense to go over 'to the dark side' as I wittily called airborne status after years of grousing about the megalomaniac airborne linguists. I understand that healthy teasing is inherent between the two species (ground vs airborne) but damn, they just seemed so FULL of themselves!

At the Highland Laddy, Crete

My application was approved and PCS orders arrived shortly thereafter. I would depart Crete in April, attend SERE school in May, and report to RAF Mildenhall in June. Departing Crete wasn't that easy as high winds kept the commercial airlines from landing/taking off from Iraklion. So the powers-that-be bundled us onto the 12-hr ferry ride to Athens. Oh yay!

Business class tickets due to the length of the flight from Europe to San Francisco -- nice! I was traveling with an airman who knew people there so he was set for getting out and about the town. Making the acquaintance of a cute guy during the flight guaranteed my night out as well. Quite a bit of carousing and some sightseeing shortened the layover in SF (no, nothing lascivious happened other than some kissing)... mid-morning flight to Spokane, WA and the scary prospect of SERE school.

It wasn't a dormitory like we had on Crete (or anywhere else I've been) -- this place was like a hotel! Each room had two twin beds, cable TV, kitchen, and a shared bathroom between rooms. I lucked out and didn't have a room-mate (which facilitated quite a bit of misbehavior on my part). MAID service, fer crissakes -- as if we couldn't keep our rooms up to par by ourselves! Didn't complain, though, as it also facilitated a bit more misbehavior on my part).

SERE school

I was a TSgt, 32 yrs old, and in okay physical shape but I kept wondering if this arduous course would kill me as I'd heard quite a few horror stories of how awful it is. I mean, really, really horrible 'and then they do THIS to you' type stuff to include compromising photos and facts from former spouses, one-nighters, whatever. Anything to get the psychological upper-hand, or so my sources told me.

A few captains, some young lieutenants, one old(er) guy (MSgt), some SSgts, and a bunch of airmen comprised our class. My schedule was one week of water survival, two weeks off, then two weeks of ground and advanced beatings (an affectionate term for the intel portion of survial school). During the two weeks off, I was technically on detail but due to my rank, that only involved stumbling to the admin desk to check in at 0730 every morning (note the stumbling remark).

Water survival

I shan't bore you with a myriad of details of each course of instruction -- no need to cause glazed over eyes! But I had fun in water survival (actually had to tow a taller guy to the life raft in the giant pool we used whilst being bombarded by multiple water cannons) and spent my off hours at the Final Point (NCO club/bar)... ;) There were a few dalliances here and there including the tall bloke I towed to the life raft -- hee! And that occurred before I rescused his arse in the water!  One interesting thing I learned was that sharks and barracudas are attracted to shiny bits which sucks for the officers with their pretty shiny bars!

Love this tattoo!

Decided to rent a car during part of my two-week break between classes to do some shopping and sightseeing in Spokane with newly-made friends. I was also at the gymn every day to increase my aerobic endurance for the next portion. In an effort (most likely ineffective) to psych out the SERE instructors, I applied a temporary tatoo of a black panther clawing up my forearm (ha!) and read every POW book available at the library while cycling like mad on an exercise bike. I guess I was using my Girl Scout training of 'always be prepared'!

The ground course started with classroom instruction and exercises such as parachute landing falls (I sucked at this -- had to go into a small room with an instructor to practice falling on my left side. Still sucked as I did a three-point landing of feet, butt, head during the final versus the five-point PLF). Of course, during the two-week break and this portion of the class, I was garnering as much information as I could from people coming back from the field. Although honor-bound not to divulge much, a few six-packs and Domino's Pizza loosened the tongues of some graduates ;)

Tasty 'shrooms!

Rucksacks were packed according to the checklist (oh yay, Meals Ready to Eat -- yummy!) and camouflage laundry bags were placed over our heads during the drive to the training ground. We were out there for at least five days learning how to live off the land, signal rescue squads, read a terrain map, evade capture, erect shelters, etc. My squirrel snare was constructed large enough to capture a moose as I had no intention of bagging let alone EATING a squirrel. The guys decided to shelter me, the only femme in my squad, when one of my mates had to kill the school-supplied rabbit. I didn't EAT any of that poor bunny although I had to make a feeble attempt at skinning it with my lovely survival knife to pass the objective. Morel mushrooms were burgeoning so I'd collect an entire BDU shirt of them to add to whatever MRE looked somewhat appetizing. Nor did I eat any bugs as I declared myself a vegetarian ;) I really liked my instructor -- how he put up with us, I will never understand. A picture of the two of us was taken by Airman magazine and as soon as my scanner is operational again, I'll upload it for y'all!

For the final evasion, the entire class was reunited during the evening. Me and three other femmes shared a structure (and gossip) before getting ready at oh-dark-thirty to evade the evil forces aligned against us. I was off with two guys and maybe was 'free' for ten minutes before capture. Lovely. So now I'm a POW and trust me, these guys do not treat us femmes with kid gloves.

It sucked. The POW camp sucked for however many (probably three) days. Being in solitary was fine, though! And being selected for the 'rape' was also not a biggie (come on, like how many times have I been married?? You think you SCARE ME??) as I was whipping off my BDUs faster than the instructors thought possible. Saved by an 'opportune' arrival of a senior evil forces guy, of course. Whatev. Interrogations sucked the most of all!!! However, the absolute best bit was when all of us were lined up near the POW commandant's tower listening to him extol the virtues of his forces compared to we weak Americans. He bellowed 'ABOUT FACE' which we instinctively did -- and there's Old Glory waving beautifully in the breeze. Not a dry eye amongst us. I still well up with tears when I think about it. Talk about PSYCHOLOGICAL manipulation!! Some of the students refused to shake the hands of the instructors on our way out to freedom (and beer and pizza!). Unprofessional much??

In fact, my girlfriends had pizza and beer waiting for me after a long, hot shower to remove over a week's worth of grime, sweat, and camouflage face paint ;)

I really liked most of survival school but the inadvertently amusing 'advanced beatings' part cannot be discussed. Suffice to say that when I awoke half-way through that week, I screamed during morning ablutions as I'd developed a bladder infection during the week in the field. Antibiotics were prescribed and cranberry juice was suggested (does it matter that I mixed it with vodka?) to help speed the healing. Having that little ailment did not help during the nastier objectives.

A Royal Navy lieutenant commander had observed some of my beatings, errr, interrogations. He asked me out on a date once I was settled in England -- and yes, I did!! It was a bit amusing that when he'd call me  at my squadron, the person who answered would scream 'the Royal Navy is on the phone for you' -- like the entire fleet?? One guy, you wankers!!

Standby for re-transmission when I can post some pics!!

Burger King - 1977-1978

Part of the deal I made with the 'rents for finishing high school in Miami was to find a job. My former jobs consisted of gas monkey at the step-monster's cut-rate gas station, selling hay and feed from a semi-trailer on our property, and housecleaning for an Orthodox Jewish family. Not much of a resume but really, what is expected of a 16-yr-old? The other part of the deal was to find a place to stay.

My great-grandmother bought me a 1970 Chevelle Malibu that was owned by a little old lady who had a minor fender bender and wanted $100 for the car. I promptly fell in love with that white gas guzzler -- it was a great first car!

My step-brother knew of a woman with a 3-bdrm house (with a POOL!) that was within several blocks of my high school -- renting one room was $25 a week. So that part of the deal was fulfilled. Walking to school -- good!

There was a Burger King in Westchester about five blocks from my high school -- so I sallied forth early one summer morning to the emporium and asked for an application. The manager, Afzal, was very, very nice during the interview and immediately hired me at a bit above minimum wage. Since this was 1 of 3 research and development BKs (BK was headquartered in Miami), anything new came to this store for trials. I was hired as 'The Hostess'. A new concept to improve the dining experience. Oh My Goddess!

Originally, Afzal envisioned me in a long evening dress swanning about the dining area and catering to the demands of the patrons. But no, instead the uniform was the butt-ugly red and yellow polyster pant suit and a poufy hat. With white shoes. And these were high-water pants as yep, not many 5'10" femmes were employed with BK. Sigh.

I was (and am still) quite shy so I dreaded my first day interacting with the BK customers. Ewwwwwww! I was outfitted with a little wicker basket filled with BK crowns (to place on the heads of the kids), whatever new toy was out that week (piccolos and bouncy balls are all I remember), condiments, sugar, stirrers, blah, blah. I had to go to each table and ensure the customer's meal was 'their way', clean up after they left, and just hostessed for 4.5 hours a day. One free meal a day so I invented the triple whopper before it became a recent menu item ;)

My high school was just one of  four nearby schools and the lunch rush was un-fricking-real. One of the high schools was a Catholic boys school and I became a favorite of the shot-put team (I have no idea why). They even bought me t-shirts (one said 'bite-sized Mounds' and I can't remember the other). No, I didn't date any of them but I did become very good friends with two of the boys. I was R's 'fiance' during his school's mandatory marriage counseling class! Funny!!

The hostess program didn't seem to pan out so I was thus moved inside the kitchen to begin learning every station. First -- learning the flame broiler. Simply place the frozen whopper and burger patties on the conveyer, wait for them to move thru the grill, then place the cooked patties in a large warming bin. There was a broiler station on the whopper side and one on the cheese side. Wasn't difficult but I did hate counting the broken or gnarled meat remnants at the end of the shift to estimate how many patties were lost. Bleah. Covered in grease by the time my shift ended, I couldn't wait to get home to shower! Second -- running to/fm the huge walk-in freezers to man-handle the 50lb boxes of frozen meat to the broiler area. I did slide on a bun rack once and landed on my arse. No damage other than my pride!

I quickly mastered the broil, moved to drinks (piece of cake), fry station (more grease and some burns), then assembly (whopper side first then cheese side). I had a grease pencil with which I would keep track of the called-in orders since we all know everyone has to 'have it your way'. The counter peeps would call their orders over a microphone, either the whopper or the cheese side would assemble whatever was required and then shoot it down the chute for pick-up. We'd also keep a steady supply of 'regular' whoppers, burgers, frys, etc to maintain. The cheese side was responsible for the speciality items and thus, was the last of the kitchen crew stations to master.

Ugliest uniform EVER!

We changed uniforms in late 1977 to a dark brown pantsuit with striking orange and red stripes down the side. And a much better hat than that poufy red and yellow monstosity. Still with the white shoes. Ugh. At least these pants seemed longer! I was sent to the front to learn dispensing and picking up drive-through orders but refused to call any order in over the scary microphone. Until the day my coworker had laryngitis so I HAD to. The kitchen staff applauded when I finally stammered out my very first order. It got much better after the first time, of course. I liked working the cash registers as counting out change was easy due to years of being a gas monkey ;)  Plus, I met some amazingly nice people, loved the BK crew, and truly enjoyed working there. Did I tell you that we also shot two commercials at my BK?? No lines for the regular crew as we were just background -- even funnier was the BK Corporation dudes bringing us McDonald's breakfast before the shoot!!

As I mentioned, this store was a research and development and the new stuff would come to us to gauge the public reaction. The chicken sandwich? We had it first! Steak sandwich with onion rings on top? Yep, we had that. Fried shrimp? No, you don't remember that?? I guess it didn't make the cut! We also started the ice cream sundae (part of the drinks station -- right up there with covered in grease is also covered in strawberry toppings or exploded milkshake -- yuck). I was chosen with a few other of Miami's finest BK hostesses to the grand opening of a store up in ORLANDO! The BK corporation drove us up there to man three or four outside sundae stations -- OMG. It was cold (I think this was November 1977) and eventually sticky (due to the sundae toppings and exploding soft serve ice cream).

The other big thing in 1977 was the release of Star Wars. It certainly wasn't called 'Episode IV' back then -- it was simply the most magnificent, astonishing, cool as hell movie EVER! I went to see it every day with my Catholic school friends for about two weeks. We could recite all the movielines, imitate Chewie's growl, imitate the Tie fighters screech, oh yeah, we were geeks before we knew what geeks were! My best girlfriend and I named ourselves C3Leigh-O (that was me) and R2B2 (that was her). She chose Luke but I hankered after Han. Win, win!! R2B2 was also renting the third bedroom at the same house so we were roomies as well as besties going to the same school! Her place of employment was K-Mart across the street from my BK.

During the summer, BK was giving away Star Wars glasses (collect all 4!), posters, and probably something else that I cannot remember. I had every Star Wars offering safely stashed at home and wish I still had them -- sigh.

I loved my little (fake) gold 'one year' BK pin. Wish I still had that as well -- sigh.

About half-way through my senior year, I was promoted to 'production manager' which meant I could wear black pants with a white shirt -- and black shoes!! NO HAT!!!! I was so excited! It wasn't only a pay raise but some cool additional responsiblities as well! One of which was 'opening' which meant getting to the store at 8AM on a SUNDAY to prep for opening at 10AM. Bags of lettuce placed in trays and refrigerated. Boxes of tomatoes and onions sliced, saran-wrapped, and refrigerated. Drink dispensers filled. Broiler started. Fry station filled. Gallons of pickles placed in their holders, saran-wrapped, and refrigerated. Lots more that I can't (or won't!) recall but suffice to say, it was exhausting but fun! My partner, a blonde-haired dude, would play raucous music on the radio to keep us entertained during prep. We'd also microwave a small cup of chocolate shake for a hot chocolate treat during the mild Miami winter -- hee! Oh wow, I found a wiki page that says the only recorded snow flurries in Miami occured January 19, 1977!! I REMEMBER that!! I was in my junior year at high school and we all ran to the windows to see this white stuff falling from the sky. One recorded snow event

Afzal left to manage another store, a new manager came in (nice guy) for awhile and then -- the worst boss ever. Okay, not really, just the worst BK boss I ever had. I contracted conjunctivitis and didn't come into work for several days 'cos who wants an employee with icky stuff oozing out of their eyes?? So this jerk FIRED me. I think it had more to do with my rebuffing his approaches rather than my minor illness. I promptly went to work for my former manager at another BK. But that was starting out at rock bottom -- no vaunted production manager status.

So -- my relationship with BK fizzled to an end during the winter of 1978. I had graduated high school and was attending MDCC originally to fulfill the requirements to become an assistant manager. But no. I decided to walk into a recruitment office in the strip mall across from the BK... and the USAF was the first office I went to. You know the rest of the story ;)