In the Air Tonight

 While driving this morning, Phil Collins' song, "In the Air Tonight" began playing on the radio. It reminded me of a time in basic training about this time 12 years ago. We were in our bay (living quarters), the lights suddenly were turned off, and the song "In the Air Tonight" began to loudly emanate from the stereo in our Military Training Instructor's office. "Trainees stand in front of your wall locker at the position," he ordered. "Well, this is different, and I doubt it will be fun," I thought as I hurriedly moved to my wall locker. "TRAINEES," he bellowed, "Grab the chair next to your wall locker, maintain the position of attention, and hold that chair out in front of you with your arms fully extended!" "Yep, not fun," I silently said to myself.

"But I know the reason why you keep this silence up, no you don't fool me," Phil sang... "Why are we here doing this?" We all thought collectively. We stood there in silence for a while longer, and Phil sang his last, "Well I've been waiting for this moment for all my life, oh lord, oh lord." My arms started to hurt a bit; "Well this is wrapping up; the song is just about over." Then the song started over, and on the other side of the bay, some trainee out my line of sight but in earshot began to be yelled at for setting his chair down. "Oh no, not yet; this song is going to keep playing until one of you confesses!" "Confesses to what?" I wondered, but my conscience was clean, and I wasn't about to draw attention to myself.

"The hurt doesn't show, but the pain still grows, it's no stranger to you and me," Phil's words rang clear and true in our darkened Bay. "How long are we going to stand here wondering who did what? Somebody just say something that you did bad," I thought; my arms were really starting to burn. Our instructor interjected, "This will all be over when one of you clowns confesses!"

So, Phil started singing his song a third time, and our flight leader finally yelled out, "Sir trainee xxxx reports as ordered what are you wanting us to confess to?" "SOMEONE HAS BEEN PEEING WITHOUT PUTTING THE TOILET SEATS UP, AND YOU WILL ALL PEE SITTING DOWN FOR THE REST OF BASIC TRAINING IF THE CULPRIT DOESN'T CONFESS." "Seriously, that's all he is looking for?" I was mildly amused but man my arms. "Well that isn't me, so I'm just going to stand here silently."

Phil's epic drum solo pierced our bay again, "What is this the sixth time I've heard this drum solo?" Trainees began to shout, "JUST CONFESS; GET THIS OVER WITH. MAN UP!!!

It felt like we listened to that song ten times; it could have been fewer. Then a couple bunks down, a trainee said, "Guys, I'm getting this over with, it might have been me, I will take whatever he gives me." In my peripheral, I observed him set his chair down; a moment later, I heard, "Sir Trainee xxxx reports as ordered; it was me." Then as abruptly as the music turned on, it turned off, the lights came back on, and we all dropped our chairs, and returned to some semblance of normal.

For the life of me, I can't recall if that trainee received any further discipline, but I know he graduated. And, every so often, I remember his courage to say, "All right, enough, this one is on me."

Some might read this and wonder if it was necessary. I have no idea, but I do know that basic training was a formative experience for me and others. It taught us that no matter how difficult things were you could always find strength and resolve from within to push yourself a little further and keep surviving. And, that has guided me through a few situations in life since then.