Married and needing a new direction; I found myself on an airplane headed to Hell Week. My wife was 6 months pregnant and I was about 6 months scared to death I was gonna be a father. I wasn’t sure what type of father I’d be but I knew I was going to be a damn good one. I could only hope anyway.
I arrived at the San Antonio airport and was picked up by 4 military in uniform who were very nice and very helpful. I didn’t feel like a Lokal but I sure was being treated like one.
A short bus ride to Lackland Airforce Base at 730pm in the dark and 40 other people on the bus. Everyone remained quiet. It was definitely the feeling of the calm before the storm.
Hell arrived in a drill instructor hat and his name was Sgt Jones. He said get off F’n the bus in a way I absolutely knew…I was not a Lokal.
We all lined up and stood in single files 4 columns deep. We sized ourselves according to height and somehow I ended up in front at the 3 column. I knew at that very moment my life had just began to get worse.
This wasn’t a good feeling as I stood there wondering how a Lokal Utah Boy ends up staring at a drill instructor hat brim as he is yelled at and spit on…I’m sure Sgt Jones didn’t realize he had spit in my face and I wasn’t about to ask him not to do it again. I knew I wasnt a Lokal
We ended up getting in bed early that next morning around 130am. That’s 0130 for any of us who had to learn military time. Telling military time is easy in the early parts of the day but I sure wasn’t ready for Day 2
Not Being a Lokal sucks on Day 1
NOTALOKAL 