Bad Luck Cadet (3 page)

I looked at him and said, “Yes.”

“Well congratulations I’m sure you will do
great. What’s this about 18 weeks?”

I explained I would be living in a dorm and
weekends off were up to the academy staff. I told him I would come
home anytime I could.

Norman and I met my freshman year in college.
He was in his third year studying to be an engineer. We fell in
love, one thing led to another and then we had one of those talked
about moments when the condom actually broke. Nine months later
Letty was born. Norman married me as soon as we discovered there
were consequences to our actions and went with me to tell my
family. I dropped out of college and discovered I loved being a
mom. Norman finished college and began his career. Those first
years were lean but Norman felt if I wanted to stay home and raise
Letty, he would do everything he could to make it work.

I loved being a mom up until Cassie started
high school. These past four years were difficult. I knew I either
needed to finish college or decide what I wanted to do now that I
was all grown up. The midlife crisis did not really set in until
this past year. Middle age and Cassie’s final year of high school
seemed to do the trick.

Roger came back out and said he had been
reading online about what was expected at the police academy. He
said I would need to jump a six foot wall. I could tell he was
feeling rather smug about it.

“So I’ll jump a six foot wall." I replied. "Is
there anything else you’re worried about?”

“Mom, you’re being ridiculous. You can’t
possible think you’ll make it through the police
academy?”

“That’s enough," interjected Norman. "What
your mother does or doesn’t do will be up to her. She’s worked hard
and she deserves a chance. I will not hear one more negative word
out of your mouth.”

Roger left the room again.

Have I mentioned how much I love my husband?
He’s just a great guy. I would miss him and realized we had never
been apart for more than a week during our marriage.

After Cassie left the room, I asked him if he
wanted to go to bed early. We cleaned up the dinner table together,
left dishes in the sink and went to bed. Hours later, I was trying
to fall doze off but all I could think about was a six foot
wall.

Was Roger lying?

Chapter 5

Being Late Will Get You
Fired

Over the next three weeks, Stacy and I felt
like we were getting our first experience at what being a police
officer was like. We were issued wallet police badges, by a
secretary, to take to the academy and we were also issued our
batons, handcuffs and firearms.

Guns, this was one thing I hadn’t thought
about. I had never shot a gun before. It looked huge. It was a .40
caliber Glock 35. I was told it had an extra-long barrel and was
great for target shooting.

P-R-O-B-L-E-M! It barely fit my
hand.

Sgt. Spears took us to the range for shooting
instruction. I screamed, with the gun practically jumping out of my
hands on my first shot. Sgt. Spears looked like he wanted to scream
too. He was patient but I pushed him to his limit. He told me if I
made it far enough, the academy would straighten out my problems.
Of course, Stacy did an excellent job.

The night before I left for the academy,
Norman gave me a party. He invited Veronica and a few of my close
friends. They made me a cake and wished me well. My daughters were
both in attendance but Roger made his excuses and stayed away. I
didn’t let him ruin my great evening. Everyone wanted to know if I
was nervous. By then I was past nervous and had gone straight to
petrified.

Stacy and I left Small Town first thing in the
morning. We stayed in a hotel in Phoenix that night and were
expected to be at the academy at 1300 hours the following
afternoon. Our hair had to be up and off our collar; we wore white
dress shirts with black ties, black pants and black shoes. We had
to carry our duty belts minus the guns and gear. We left our
suitcases in our police issued unmarked vehicle and went inside.
There were about thirty people standing around dressed like us. I
only saw two other women.

Everything was going well until a military
drill sergeant arrived. He was short, squat and had a loud
voice.

“What are you doing?” He bellowed, “Get in
formation NOW, NOW, NOW!”

He had several “helpers” with him. They were
yelling as well. We began lining up and were told to count off. The
first five people got it right but number six missed his
turn.

“What the hell is your problem? Did you learn
to count in kindergarten? Start over and this time, get it
right.”

We made it to twenty-two.

Stacy blew it. Her eyes were huge and I
thought she would cry. After more yelling we started over. This
time we made it. There were thirty-five of us. Next, we were
marched outside. The weather was expected to be 115 degrees that
day. It felt like 120. Our stiff white shirts and ties were
drenched with sweat within five minutes. About half of the cadets
didn’t bring their duty belts with them, and the rest of us were
made to stand at attention, in the hot sun, while they were given
five minutes to run out to their cars.

We were placed in two lines by numbers. We
were marched around the campus. PAFRA was located on a college
campus. Students would not be arriving for another week. We would
have the place to ourselves for now. We ran “double time” in the
heat while the library, gym and cafeteria were pointed out. We
ended about ten minutes later at the far west end of campus. Our
classroom was stadium style. There were six rows and I was the
third person in the fifth row. Stacy was next to me and a male
cadet was first in our row. We would become squad five. There were
seven total in our squad.

We were told we had one minute to get a drink
of water and were sent to the fountain by squads. No one did more
than wet their lips.

I was just getting my heart rate under control
when the back door at the top corner of the room flew open. A metal
garbage can was kicked down the classroom stairs and our class
Sergeant stormed in. I thought the other guy was the sergeant but
soon discovered my error. The new sergeant made the other look like
a pansy.

“On your feet, I’m Sergeant Dickens and you
will stand when I enter a room. You will address me as sir.” He had
our attention. “Don’t eyeball me; you will look through me and not
at me. Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir,” It came out weak. I wondered what
the hell he meant. Through me, not at me? I guessed I would be
learning.

“What did you say? Is everybody here capable
of saying yes sir? Or maybe you don’t understand. Do you
understand?”

“YES SIR,” We were louder this
time.

“If you have military experience I want you
front and center immediately.” About ten guys started for the front
of the room. “I didn’t tell you to walk. For the love of God, get
down here now.” Their pace picked up.

Squad leaders were appointed and all sent back
to their desks. Some seat shuffling went on as the squad leaders
took the far right seats in each row. We were in luck; our guy
already had the correct seat. Next, we were told to come forward
when our names were called and we were given a name plate on yellow
cardstock paper along with two large white paper filled
binders.

Before my name was called, a young man dresses
like us, looked into the room. One of the Sergeant’s helpers
noticed him. “Who are you?” She asked.

“Mike Todd.” He answered.

“And what are you doing here Mike
Todd?”

“I’m supposed to be in this class.”

“What time were you to be here?” She
asked.

“1300 hours.”

“What time is it?”

Mike looked at his watch and said, “1342
hours.”

“And you think you can come in late? Does this
look like kindergarten? Sergeant Dickens, this fine young man is
late.”

Sergeant Dickens walked over to Mike and got
in his face. “Are you eyeballing me Mr. Todd?”

“No sir.”

“You were eyeballing me and now you’re a liar
as well as late. You have no business being here, get out. Go back
and tell your department you were late. See how they like it. Now
get the hell out of my room.”

Mike left. We never saw him again.

I learned two very important rules; don’t be
late and double time means run like hell.

I also realized I had been thrown into the
Hollywood set for the remake of Full Metal Jacket. I just wondered
who would end up being our Pvt. Pyle and hoped it wasn’t
me.

Chapter 6 You Will Be Sent Home

After receiving our academy study binders,
Sgt. Dickens reviewed the class rules. We would be spending eight
hours a day in the classroom. Everything we learned throughout the
week would be covered in a test on Monday mornings. We were
expected to get a seventy percent or higher. If not, we would be
given one retake. If we did not pass the retake with a seventy
percent we would be sent home immediately.

We were also expected to pass the POPAT
(Police Officers Physical Aptitude Test):

A 99 yard obstacle course

Body Drag – Lift and drag a 165 lb. lifelike
dummy 32 feet

500 Yard Run

Chain Link Fence – Run 5 yards, go over fence
and run an additional 25 yards

Solid Fence Climb – Run 5 yards, go over solid
fence and run an additional 25 yards

The nightmare six-foot fence that Roger
taunted me with was now on the table.

Each event was timed and scored with higher
points given for shorter times. The minimum passing score was 384.
Men and women were scored equally. Age did not matter. If we scored
a 383 we were going home. I think I liked the Cooper Test
better.

Oh, and yeah, we had to pass the Cooper Test
as well.

More rules. There would be no fraternizing
with the college men or women on campus or among the cadets. If
caught we would be sent home. We would tell the truth at all times,
if we were caught in any lie we would be sent home. We would attend
every class. If we missed more than three classes, we would be sent
home. There were so many “you will be sent home rules” it’s hard to
remember them all.

We would keep our dorm rooms spotless and have
a dorm inspection weekly. All home work would be turned in on time.
Our notebooks would be inspected weekly. We would be given daily
uniform inspections. We were to be outside on the classroom deck at
0745 each morning and inspection ready.

Monday, Wednesday, and Fridays we would meet
in the gym at 0530 hours for Physical Training (PT). On Tuesday and
Thursdays we would meet at the same time for Defensive Tactics
(DT). These classes would last an hour and a half, giving us
45-minutes to eat breakfast, change into our uniform of the day and
arrive for inspection on the deck. Infractions would be severally
punished.

Punishment hill runs (whatever that was) would
take place after class at 1700 hours daily. We were not to leave
campus unless we had permission. There was an absolute ban on cell
phones during the day.

After this set of rules and instructions were
yelled out, we were marched to the gym. It was time to learn a few
military formations and some of the terminology. Sgt. Dickens
continued to yell and we eventually got it. It was hot in the gym.
One hundred and fifty degrees was what it felt like. I'm pretty
sure we were dying.

Eventually the first cadet dropped. He passed
out in a dead faint. I could see the look of satisfaction on Sgt.
Dickens’ face. An ambulance was called and we got a break. There
were two water fountains and we took turns getting water and
wetting our heads and necks. No one spoke; we were all being
watched closely. The "lucky" cadet was taken to the hospital about
15-minutes later.

We were told it was time for our first
inspection. We lined up by squad. This would be our formation
throughout the academy. The orders were being yelled out; about
face, parade rest, attention, forward march, etc. The Sergeant and
his helpers yelled at once. My head was spinning. We were told not
to lock our knees or we would be visiting the emergency room. I
tried locking my knees but it didn’t work, I just couldn’t pass
out.

The two Sergeants and their helpers (a.k.a.
our squad advisers) began going person to person and finding
something wrong. My hair was barely staying up and I could feel it
touching the back of my neck.

I could sense someone close behind me and then
the back of my hair was tugged, hard.
A female voice, “Sgt. Dickens, it appears we have a bird’s nest in
squad five.” It was yelled into my ear.

I couldn’t help it, I giggled. A woman pulled
my hair and compared it to a bird’s nest. What could possibly be
funnier?

Sgt. Dickens was in my face before I could
choke back my laughter.

“Cadet, are you laughing? Do you find this
funny? Give me twenty push-ups now. As a matter of fact, I want the
entire class to give me twenty pushups. Quarter right turn, assume
pushup position. Begin.”