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!!