No, I’ve got no excuse. I understand the punishment.
Note: This is Chapter 10 of my upcoming book, “The Adventures of an Air Force Medic.” Here’s the story of how I met the ‘base commander.’ Met him one morning on my way to work. I’ll never forget it.
P.S. Story is fiction based on my time as an air force medic; hence, my character is ‘Sean.’ Characters in this chapter are introduced in earlier chapters, so book readers will already know them.
Picture: That’s me (on the right) in the Mather Air Force Base hospital barracks with another ‘medic’ Charlie from Bayonne, New Jersey.
I trekked across the base making the journey from where I lived, the hospital barracks, to where I worked, Mather Air Force Base Hospital. The total distance, a hundred yards maybe, short walk. Deep in thought, I made it about halfway when I had to stop suddenly to let a car pass by.
Normally, the morning walk to work involved no cars, too early for most people. I didn’t appreciate having my stride interrupted by this early morning lone vehicle. I looked down at my feet, verified both were perched on the side curb; then adjusted my balance while I waited for the car to pass. I thought, ‘Glad I looked up, almost walked into that car, not used to seeing cars this early in the morning.’
I waited for the lone morning vehicle to pass, then stepped out onto the road and headed directly for the hospital front door main entrance. Before taking my second step in the road, I heard the sound of brakes locking and tires leaving black marks on the road. My head instinctively turned right towards the direction of the noise. I watched the big blue car as it rocked forward and backward from the brake locking maneuver, then change into a quick reversing vehicle. I jumped back onto the curb to avoid getting run over.
The reversing vehicle performed another forward and backward rocking session when it suddenly stopped in a curious location. I wondered, ‘Hmmm, why’s he stopping in front of me?’
The passenger side window dropped rapidly. No magic involved, I watched as the driver leaned over franticly cranking it down. My frantic window cranking driver proved he could multi-task as he yelled and cranked at the same time, “Get in!”
I began to appreciate my new situation. Somehow, on my innocent walk to work, I’d upset someone. And, I quickly figured out several things about this upset person. First, as I looked into the car I could see he wore ‘eagles’ on his shoulders attached to his light blue air force shirt. That told me his rank, colonel. That made him ‘higher than God’ on my ‘new to the air force’ military ranking scale. Next, I noticed the metal ‘wings’ on the front of his shirt. That told me he’s a pilot. Finally, I scanned the front hood area of the four door blue sedan and noticed a flag blowing in the breeze sporting a big drawing of an eagle. I knew this meant he’s not only a colonel, but he’s the base commander; kind of like the mayor, top dog, the boss. I remembered being told to watch out for the ‘fighter pilot’ base commander when he drives around base. But, remembering now did me no good, too late.
Following the base commander’s order to ‘get in,’ I opened the front passenger side door, got in, closed the door and sat motionless as the car moved forward. My new base commander ‘friend’ demonstrated more multi-tasking skills when he proceeded to drive and yell at the same time, “You deliberately challenged me! Do you think I’m going to let that go? You’re in the military young man, you’re not a civilian. Why didn’t you salute my car? You telling me you can’t see that big flag waiving out there? Are you blind? What kind of troop are you? You got no observation skills? You don’t know what’s going on around you? You can’t recognize a big blue vehicle with the base commander’s flag on it? What have you got to say for yourself?”
In case I failed to convey the base commander’s mood, let me state it now, he was angry. I could feel it. I felt the blast of anger push me up against the car door. As I bore the brunt of his onslaught, I observed him. His handsome face became distorted turning him into a creepy looking madman. If I had to make a psychological call, I’d say he lost his mind. He went berserk. He flipped. You’d have thought I killed his pet poodle. If he had a handgun, I believe he would have shot me.
And why … what’s my transgression, my crime? Well, by the time he got done chewing me out, I figured it out. I failed to salute his car as it drove by. Yes, that’s my crime, ‘failure to salute an inanimate object – the base commander’s car.’ All part of military customs and courtesies, when you see a ‘flag’ car, you salute.
I thought, ‘Wonder what he’d be like if something bad happened?’
I pondered his question, ‘Have you got something to say for yourself?’ I figured that’s the easiest question he could ask. I knew the answer, so I shared it with him, “No sir.”
And true to his fighter pilot credo, he launched a second wave attack, “You just gonna sit there and tell me you got nothing to say for yourself? You directly challenged me, you disrespected the base commander. You got no respect for military customs; I don’t want troops like you in my air force. You better start talking, you better tell me why you didn’t salute my vehicle!”
I felt my Adam’s apple bob up and down, ‘gulp’ and then began pleading my case, “Sir, I’d be honored to salute your car, but I wasn’t paying attention this morning. I was deep in thought, thinking about the work day ahead. I barely noticed your car in time to stop at the curb. I thought I was going to get hit because I looked up at the last minute. I’m sorry, like I said, I’d be honored to salute your car.”
My plea seemed to work. Although he wasn’t buying my story, at least he stopped yelling, “That’s no excuse. How can you miss a big blue staff car with a huge eagle waving flag on the front? No, you can’t be that oblivious. And, if you are, I don’t want people like you in my air force. We need alert people, not zombies.
“What’s your work section? I want to know where you work and the name of your supervisor.”
“I work in the hospital on the medical ward. My supervisor is Staff Sergeant Takahashi.”
The big blue flag waiving sedan pulled up to the hospital main entrance and the base commander gave me my marching orders, “I’m going to talk to your supervisor and the hospital commander. You’re not getting away with challenging me. You picked the wrong guy to mess with. This is strike one, I better not hear about you screwing up again or I’ll make sure you’re on the other side of the fence. This is your warning, you screw up again and you’re out, you understand airman?”
“Yes sir.”
“OK, get out.”
I walked away quickly creating distance between me and the base commander and his flag waiving staff car. Never looking back, I entered the hospital front door thinking, ‘Elen’s gonna kill me. She’ll hit the roof. I’m gonna be on her shit list.’
And that concluded my first and last ride in the base commander’s staff car. The fifty yard trip took twenty seconds of driving and five minutes of base commander yelling.
I suppose there’s a bright side to the story, after all, how many people get a personalized ride to work from base commander in his flag waiving staff car? But, then again, I paid a high price; lost hearing in my left ear for a couple of hours. So, I’d rather take a cab … or walk.
I braced myself as I entered the elevator, pressed the second floor button and thought about how upset Elen will be when she finds out. Maybe send me off for another counseling session with the first sergeant … great.
I arrived onto the medical ward and noticed SSgt Elen Takahashi and Sgt Kylie Jones walking side by side coming towards me. They stopped about five steps away and SSgt Takahashi scowled and said, “Come this way airman Mitchell.” They both did an about face and headed the other way down the medical ward hallway. I followed.
I had a discussion with myself as I walked slowly behind the two ladies, ‘How the heck did she find out so fast? Boy, the colonel is on it, he don’t fool around. I figured it would take at least a day, but no. Elen’s gonna step on me like a bug under a boot.’
The ladies made a right turn into Elen’s office. I followed and Elen said, “Sit down.”
I sat in the lonely chair in front of her desk. Elen sat behind the desk and Kylie sat off to Elen’s right. I wondered how she was going to break the news that I offended the base commander and embarrassed the entire hospital squadron. I soon found out.
Elen began the meeting saying, “I like to get my airman squared away right up front. You keep your nose clean, we’ll get along fine. You want to kick up dirt, we’re gonna have problems.
“OK, we had a mandatory floor meeting yesterday morning and you weren’t there. You missed a mandatory meeting,” she paused, then continued, “And, there’s no excuse for missing a mandatory meeting. What do you have to say for yourself?”
I thought, ‘What? She doesn’t know. Great. This can’t be as bad as the base commander thing. So far so good.’
Kylie sat forward in her chair as if a medical student watching a complicated surgical operation. She held a pen and notepad and scribbled away every time Elen spoke. I wondered why Kylie had to be involved.
I pondered how to answer Elen’s question, ‘I don’t know what she’s talking about.’ I figured, that’s a good way to start, just tell her the truth. So I did, “Well, Sergeant Takahashi, I didn’t know anything about the meeting, I didn’t know there was a meeting.”
Elen pounced on me, “That’s no excuse. We post a mandatory meeting schedule in the break room and everyone is required to read it and attend all mandatory meetings. So, it’s your responsibility to know about it. No excuse.”
I thought, ‘Elen’s upset, but she’s no match for my early morning nemesis, Mr. Colonel Base Commander. This ain’t so bad.’
I sat silently. I didn’t have anything else to say. I wasn’t aware of any mandatory meeting schedule posted in the break room. Now I knew. From now on I would read it and attend the meetings. But, there’s nothing I could do about the meeting I missed, too late now.
Elen broke the silent pause, “Well, what do you have to say for yourself? What excuse are you going to make up? Say something?”
I calmly looked at here and replied, “No excuse ma’m.”
“What do you mean no excuse? Do you know what the punishment is for missing a mandatory meeting?”
“No idea ma’am.”
Elen snapped, “And, don’t call me ma’am, I work for a living airman.”
I again pondered, ‘Still better than my early-morning, madman-yelling, base commander taxi driver. I’m ready for anything Elen throws at me.’
Elen pulled out a small form and proceeded to enlighten me, “You get a Letter of Reprimand; it goes in your file and stays there until I pull it out. If I give someone a reprimand I keep it there because it’s been my experience they’ll offend again and again and I want a good record in case I need it to throw someone out of the service. I’ve been burned in the past for being nice, those days are over.
“You understand this Letter of Reprimand is going in your record so don’t you have anything to say to keep me from doing this; it’s not good for your career you know. Do you have anything to add that might make me change my mind?”
I got confused, ‘What am I supposed to say? I missed the mandatory meeting. I’m guilty. I got no excuse. After all, that’s what Elen told me – no excuse. She gave me the answer. So, why try to weasel out of it? What am I supposed to do, start crying? Am I supposed to beg her to let me off the hook? Naw, I figure the gig’s up, just fill out the paperwork and be done with it.’
And so I replied, “No, I’ve got no excuse. I understand the punishment.”
A strange silence followed my guilty plea.
I could sense a strange twist. The mood cracked from tense to loose. Elen looked down holding her arm over her mouth. Kylie looked over at Elen. Then Elen looked up at Kylie and both of them held their stern look for a short moment then lost it, launching into full blown laughter.
Elen spoke through her laughter, “Sean, you’re just going to take the punishment, no argument, no excuses, no yelling, no begging? I’ve never run into anyone like you before. Normally, the guy starts making up some fairy tale and I laugh in their face and then hammer ‘em. But, you? Forget it, just give me the punishment, no problem. Where did you come from?
“And, thanks a lot buddy, I brought Kylie in here to show her how to disciple airman, but you ruined it. How can I give you a letter of reprimand? You didn’t know about the mandatory meeting schedule, nobody told you. It’s an honest mistake, yet you didn’t make any excuses.”
As she spoke, Elen tore up the letter of reprimand and threw it in the trash.
“Alright Kylie, you just have to wait until we get a trouble maker airman. Sean blew it, too honest.”
More good news, I never heard anything from my personal early morning ride share companion – the base commander. I never spoke to him again; never saw him again. And here’s the best part … Elen never found out.
