Thank the Lord for weekends. Eight months into training camp and they were the only respite we had. Occasionally people would go and visit their mothers or family, but for the most part we all stayed and played soccer and football to pass the time.
My buddies at the camp weren’t so good at soccer. They thought soccer meant kickball- a common misconception for people under ten years old. I taught them the basics of the game during camp.
As camp wore on, I began to itch to fly. After a year, the officers thought I was ready for what they called “practical experience.” In other words, they were going to let me fly.
As a kid, I was nervous doing just about anything in front of an audience. Yet as I stepped up to the jet, I felt strangely at ease. I knew my commanding officers were watching. My fellow classmates were probably watching (with jealousy, most likely- they didn’t get to fly for another six months). And yet I felt no nervousness, no fear of messing up- just confidence.
“This is command. Go ahead.”