Cadet Leadership Course

I remember the summer of 2013. I spent three months worrying about the new challenges that high school would bring. Among my worries was the fear of Aerospace Science I, a class more commonly referred to as JROTC. When I signed up for my freshman classes, I decided to take JROTC instead of the regular physical education class. My sole intention was to survive the class so that I could obtain my physical education credit. Little did I know that my future would hold so much more than passing.

            My palms were sweaty as I walked down the hallway for the first time. My heart raced as I scanned the walls and saw pictures of the Command Staff and other cadets. I wondered how I would adapt to such a strict curriculum. Once I found the correct room, I walked in, placed my things in the back of the room, and sat in a desk towards the back of the room. I tried to avoid drawing any attention to myself. Two older students stood at parade rest at the front of the room. They hastily explained the pictures of parade rest, attention, and seats. When they were finished, the instructor walked into the room and greeted us with a smile. He welcomed us to the program, and we listened intently as he explained the daily procedures and the plan for the year. I felt more at ease after learning more about the program. The bell rang and I walked to my next class.

            In late September, the wing had its first mandatory formation of the year, Commander’s Call. Cadets flooded the auditorium and sat with their flights. The wing commander walked onto the stage and called the wing to attention. He greeted us. The cadets who participated in the Cadet Officer Leadership School (COLS) at the Citadel were honored in front of the wing. A few of those cadets discussed their experiences at COLS. Before I left school that day, I had assured myself that I would never go to COLS.

            In late October, cadets began to try out for teams. I intended to join the air rifle team. I asked my flight leadership about opportunities, and they told me to ask the Senior Aerospace Science Instructor, Major. I had limited experiences with Major, but I knew that he was extremely intimidating. This was the first conversation I had with him. My flight commander informed me that he was waiting in his office. I hesitantly walked across the hall. Things moved in slow motion. I could feel my heartbeat quicken as I paused in the doorway. My palms were sweaty. I stepped into his office. Black spots formed in the corners of my vision. To say that I was nervous would be an incredible understatement. He stood and walked towards me with no expression. I felt lightheaded. He said, “I understand that you are interested in joining our air rifle team.” I shook myself out of my stupor and replied in a small voice, “Yes, sir.” He proceeded to ask questions about my experience with various weapons. Eventually, he sighed and said, “Air rifle is a very competitive team. I have heard that you make good grades. Academic team is struggling to survive, and they could use you.” He told me to return to class. The following Monday, I joined the team. I enjoyed the practices, but I also wished that the team was larger. The team commander was friendly. The year went on, and in late March, Major began to select cadets with potential to return as second years. At that point, I still had no intention of returning. Major had other plans for me. I was asked to return, but I was hesitant. To return meant that I would attend the leadership program and have a leadership position. My parents, my team commander, and the JROTC instructors strongly encouraged me, and after struggling with the decision for weeks, I eventually agreed to come back.

            Early April brought stress without relief. In addition to the increasing difficulty of my academic work, training had begun. COLS had been changed to the Cadet Leadership Course, so even the cadre did not know what to expect. Our future wing commander led the training. I was most nervous about the physical aspect. In middle school, my mile time was over twelve minutes. I could not do more than fifteen push-ups. I knew that this would be a challenge. I diligently attended every practice after school. When we ran the mile, I was always one of the last people to finish. It was a great source of shame. I ran at home in addition to the mandatory running during practice. I stretched and did calisthenics. I studied the manual. I did everything in my power to prepare myself mentally and physically. Slowly but surely, I was improving.

            Then, during one practice, my lungs failed me. We ran in formation around the school and stopped occasionally to do push-ups, sit-ups, lunges, and other calisthenics. We stopped running at the tennis courts to exercise our legs. I threw myself into the exercises, using every last bit of my energy to push myself as hard as possible. We finished, and began to run again. I was exhausted. The dust swirled on the dirt track as we ran. The air was thick with pollen and humidity. I focused on running and paid attention to the rhythm of my feet as they hit the ground. I controlled my breathing until suddenly, my throat constricted. I had never experienced anything like it before that moment. It grew tighter and tighter until I was gasping for breath, and I choked out the words, “Can’t breathe, please help.” I was terrified. My vision tunneled. The cadet behind me heard my desperate words and asked the leader to stop. The rest of the flight continued running, and the leader walked me back to the starting point as I regained control of my breaths. I tried to calm myself. Once I was back to normal, I talked to Major. I explained that I never had any symptoms before that, and he told me to get an inhaler. I went to my nurse practitioner and she told me that I have exercise-induced asthma. She gave me an inhaler. I was blessed to have it, because I used it several times at CLC.

            The end of school marked the beginning of grueling training sessions that lasted five hours each. The June sun scorched us as we drilled on the hot pavement and ran until we could not continue. I came home one afternoon covered in mud from falling during push-ups. We all glistened with sweat and wondered how we would survive the week. Then it began.

            CLC began on Monday, June 16. I woke up at 0430. I was terrified. I had packed my suitcase the night before. I ate a huge breakfast, unsure of when I would have my next meal that day. Every insignificant action I did that morning was charged with a surge of adrenaline. I somberly processed out of my house and loaded my mom’s trunk with my luggage. We were silent as I rode to the school. We pulled up to the bus loop. The sky was streaked with pink and orange clouds. The sun rose. My mom and I stepped out of the car and began to unload the trunk. I chewed on my lip nervously. I could tell my mom was as nervous as I was. She pulled me into a tight embrace and whispered, “People wrote the nicest things. There is one envelope for every night. I love you.” I lost control of myself. Tears poured down my face. Having lost my mask, I was embarrassed. She helped me take my luggage to the rest of the group, and then I was alone. Some cadets chattered excitedly, and others, like me, stood in silent terror. The bus pulled up. We loaded it with our bags, sat down, and the journey began.

            The week was a blur of events. My mind, hindered by sleep deprivation, was as hazy as the thick, humid summer air. The first day, we went to the air rifle range. After a safety demonstration, we were allowed to shoot two sets of ten pellets each. I remembered the way my dad taught me to shoot. I slowed my heartbeat, aimed, held the rifle in that position for a moment, exhaled slowly, and fired. My first shot was a ten. The cadre saw my score and clustered around me. They watched in awe as I continued to do as well as the first time. I started the week with a positive reputation. The next challenge was the fire drill at two in the morning. I was enjoying the little rest that I was able to have and suddenly a loud alarm went off. We ran across the galleries, down the staircases, and hastily formed into our flights. Attendance was taken, and after a few minutes, we were told to go back to bed. I was exhausted the next morning. The physical training was torture. One morning, a cadet was a minute late, and the wing had to plank for twelve minutes. We ran in formation every day. That was when I discovered that my performance improves when I focus on helping others. A cadet in my flight was struggling to keep up with the group as we neared the end of our two mile run. He was easily six and a half feet tall and most likely the strongest person in the flight. He was exhausted, like the rest of us, but he was falling behind. I was running with him, shouting encouragements as I struggled for breath myself, when the cadet on the other side looked at me. Without words, we nodded to each other and put our arms around him. We carried him across the finish line. He was grateful beyond belief. 

            I also learned that it is important to conquer fears. The Citadel has a rappelling tower that is between three and four stories tall. We were required to participate. I am ridiculously afraid of heights. After listening to the safety briefing and slipping on the harness and gloves, I reluctantly climbed the ladder and stood at the top for a minute. When it was my turn, I begged to climb back down the ladder. The instructor encouraged me as I leaned back and felt the rope support my weight. My breathing slowed as I calmly enjoyed the view and bounced down. I was ecstatic when I finished.

           Then came the obstacle course. I can't honestly say that I was expecting a bouncy house with the hoops to jump through, but I also wasn't expecting a near-death experience and countless injured cadets. Needless to say, it was fun. It involved army crawling, jumping over log hurdle things, flipping through elevated bars, contorting yourself into unimaginable positions, climbing ropes, climbing walls, and then, to top it off, jumping from one suspended surface to grab onto a bar and using your momentum to swing onto another bar. I was far too uncoordinated for that last part, and I ended up falling flat on my back because of sweaty hands. Fun. I was proud of myself, though, because even though I slipped and fell several times, I dusted myself off and persisted. 

  

          I defeated many other fears that week and learned that I am capable of more than I ever could have imagined. At the awards ceremony at the end of the week, I was presented with the Top Academic Award and the Outstanding Basic Cadet Award for my flight. My parents were thrilled. Once I got home, I slept for hours. It was blissful. I am now the commander of the academic team and I look forward to challenges in the future. I became a new person that week. I will always remember my transformation from a weak, shy person to an assertive and strong young lady. 

Here is a compilation of pictures and videos from this year's Cadet Leadership Course: