How Legends Are Made

I’m constantly amazed at the various ways people respond when put under stress.  Some people perform better under intense scrutiny.  You can tell they feed off the pressure, increase their focus, and rise to the occasion.  And then there are officer candidates.

Not too long after we moved to Maxwell AFB, Alabama, OC Smithowith came through the program.  Crazy as a loon.  She probably had the single greatest day in the history of officer candidates.  In 6+ years at AMS, I carved out virtually no legacy.  In about 12 hours, she became an AMS legend.

It all started at a student change of command.  We had decided to put her in charge of her flight because she was struggling with the leadership concepts we were trying to teach.  In fact, her whole flight was underperforming and not working as a team.  To fix this, they were given “The Load”, a huge aircraft chock with about 10 rope handles on it.  Any time the flight moved, everyone’s hand had to be on “The Load” because it forced them to work together.  So right after the change of command, they were marching with “The Load” and heading to class.  I was marching with them so I could put some extra pressure on OC Smithowith and see how she handled it.  Let’s say not very well.

She passed by an officer, took her hand off the load, and saluted.  “You need to keep your hand on the load, even when you salute, “ I corrected her.  In a stunning display of boldness or idiocy, she again took her hand off the load, whirled toward me, threw both hands in the air and yelled, “I’m doing the best I can!  What do you want from me?!”  Uh-oh, this was about to get ugly.  I used my best overhead correction voice to gently encourage her to fall back in line.  She just continued to lose her mind.  At this point, I decided to pull her away from the rest of the flight and talk to her.  I motioned for the other major to join me.  I just had a feeling that I would need someone to cover my back.  So, we pulled her aside and tried to figure out what was wrong with her.  Maybe the pressure was too much and she just snapped.  Maybe she was just bat crap crazy.  The more we talked to her, the more the latter option seemed like the right one.

Despite our best efforts to calm her down, she stayed irrational.  She kept raising her voice and yelling, arms flailing everywhere.  All in plain sight of the rest of the wing.  This was a disaster.  If we didn’t handle this correctly, we could lose the whole wing.  Patience is not one of my virtues and I had heard enough.  I told her she was done and that I was going to personally make sure she got kicked out of the program.  At this, I walked away thinking that would be the last of the episode.  Uh, no, not yet.  She came running after me screaming, “I just need a second chance.  I just need a second chance.”  When I heard this, I was thinking “What, did we just break up?  Am I going to need a restraining order?”  Anyway, I told her she should have listened to me before and done what I told her.  Being a lunatic, she decides the best response is to argue even more.  She started ranting, “Nothing I do is good enough.  All the staff does is criticize and correct me.  I just need someone to tell me I’m doing okay.”  I responded that would come later in the program.  “Well, nobody told me that!” she shrieked.  My bad, I didn’t realize your crazy butt needed to be briefed on the staff training philosophy. Next time, have your therapist call me.  It’s no wonder I don’t like people.  Anyway, by now, it was lunch time so we had an MTI escort her to the dining facility.  On her way there, she stormed by several flight commanders, failed to salute, and screeched, “Are you happy now? You finally got what you wanted!”  See, that’s how you create a lasting impression. 

I finally made it back to my boss’s office to brief him on the events.  He had Smithowith write a statement.  She claimed she went nuts because “Maj Kallstrom had verbally kicked me out of AMS.”  Ultimately, he disagreed that we should just kick her out so she got her second chance.  When the OCs fell out for dinner, we informed her that she was back in charge.  “What?  I don’t want to be in charge,” she said.  “You have to be in charge.  It’s not optional.  This is a leadership program, “is how I actually responded.  In my mind, it went more like, “Listen, you insane lunatic.  No one here wants you to be in charge.  If you ever actually get commissioned none of us will ever be able to look at ourselves in the mirror again.  Why don’t you do us all a favor and just quit.  The only way people would ever follow you is out of morbid curiosity.  So shut the heck up, get out front and follow orders like I am.”  But somehow, I think she got the telepathic message I sent her.  She looked at me, took her hat off, and said those two beautiful words “I quit.”

Next thing I know, she’s storming off.  I tell another staff member to call the commander and get him down there so he can witness the insanity while we chase her down.  We catch up to her and asked her if she really wants to quit.  She says yes so we start explaining the procedures to her.  She goes off again saying, “I’m a failure.  I’m a failure” because everything had to be said twice.  I’m not sure who she was trying to convince.  She had definitely failed at being rational.  As she’s chanting about her failure, I hear my sidekick come back with one of the best lines ever.  He says, “That’s neither here nor there right now, we just need you to sign the paperwork.”

But wait, there’s more.  During her exit interview, she told one of the flight commanders that she "just wanted to fly and didn't realize the blood of terrorists would be on her hands."

And that’s how legends are made.