While I was stationed at the Electronic Proving Ground at Fort Huachuca, Arizona, my ultimate goal was to get accepted into Officer Candidate School (OCS). In order to do that, I had to achieve some small baby steps. One of those baby steps was to get the Army to accept the college credit that the Community College of the Air Force had awarded me for calibration school to count toward promotion points for the Army cut off score for promotion to Staff Sergeant. That was a two-month battle that ultimately involved filing a memorandum for exception to policy because what I was seeking was not in contravention of Army regulations. Of course, the regulations didn’t exactly say what I was seeking was authorized either. But there you go. The regulation didn’t say what I wanted was illegal, so I wanted the Army to approve it. In the end, they did. As a result, I met the cutoff score for promotion to Staff Sergeant and I was promoted. It was virtually impossible at that time to make Staff Sergeant as a calibrator back then because the cutoff score was so high. But I got lucky. And getting promoted to Staff Sergeant wasn’t even my goal. It was just icing on the cake. The actual cake, if you will, was getting the Army to accept the two years of college credit that the Community College of the Air Force had awarded me. Why was that college credit so important you ask? Excellent question. You see, one of the requirements for acceptance into OCS was a minimum of two years of college credit. I needed that college credit to count in order to get into OCS. It was all part of my master plan. One baby step down. The next baby step was to get my body into top physical condition. I was already in pretty good shape. But pretty good shape just wasn’t good enough. I had to be able to run further and faster than I had ever run before. I had to be able to do more push-ups than I ever thought possible. I had to strengthen my core muscles so that I could do more sit-ups. That meant that I had to invest some time in the gym. Every afternoon I would take off and run out into the desert and run for 10 or 12 or 14 miles. Some days, I would change up and run laps on the track outside the gym. On those days, I was training for speed. With each lap that I ran, I would attempt to run each successive lap faster than the previous lap. At first, that was difficult to do because I had no competition. But in the summer when the Reserve Officer Training Corps (ROTC) cadets showed up for summer training, I had some competition. I loved getting out there on that track and racing against those cadets. I don’t think anybody ever told them that it was a race. But it was a race. Let me tell you, it was a race. I lived for lapping those cadets. With each successive lap around that track, I would push myself faster and faster and faster to see how many of those cadets I could lap. That was my goal. I don’t think anybody ever told them that. Maybe somebody should have. Oh well. Finally, judgment day arrived. On a windy day in October, our platoon Sergeant said we had to take a PT test. I easily passed the push-ups and the sit-ups with the maximum score. When it came time for the running event, we lined up at the starting point. After they told us the route, we set out. None of the people in the platoon had ever seen me run before. As a result, I surprised the hell out of them, when I opened up an early lead and set a fast pace. None of them knew that I had come to Fort Huachuca from Denver as well. So, they did not know that I was well adapted to running at high-altitude. There were two soldiers in the platoon who were perennial runners. They were also considered relatively fast runners. The difference between them and me was that they were short distance runners. I was a long-distance runner, and I could run at speed for long distances. I could hear them talking behind me as we ran. I heard them say, “Can you believe this guy?” “Yeah. He’s going to burn himself out running so fast out of the chute.” “For real man. I wonder what he’s trying to prove?” I thought to myself, “Yeah, well, what you don’t know is I get faster as time goes on. Stick around. Oh wait. I won’t be here for you to stick around. Catch me if you can.” Then, as I usually did when I had competition, I started to open up the jets. With each successive step I took, I ran a little bit faster. When I reached the three-quarter point on the two-mile run, I tossed my head back like a thoroughbred mare and gave it my all and ran full out. When the other two finally got to the finish line, they looked at me and said, “What in the hell happened to you there toward the end? You were running pretty fast already. But at the end, you just tore it up. It was like something possessed you.” I looked at them and said, “No. That’s just the way I normally run. I get faster as time goes on. When I loosen up, everything starts to click.” “Wow. We really underestimated you.” That PT test was a litmus test to gauge how I measured up in my readiness for OCS. I could now officially check off another baby step. The final baby step I had to overcome was to start purchasing new uniforms to fulfill requirements for the list of basic items to bring to OCS. I spent a month putting together the uniforms and other assorted items on the list of basic items to take with me to OCS. At last, I was ready. I was as ready as I would ever be. I was mentally and physically focused so that I could ensure that I was not embarking upon an exercise in futility.
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