Dashing Lifelong Dreams

Author:

The humor in this story is often lost on those who have not been involved in the process of eliminating good guys from the training process, dashing lifelong dreams.

Please recall the torturous process that led to elimination from training. A student had to perform unsatisfactorily on either a checkride or three consecutive training flights. Then, an extra training flight process of two more flights. Then, a Progress Check from an instructor in the supervisory chain of command. Then two additional training flights, followed by a Final Progress Check by a senior supervisor. Usually the Sq CC or Ops Officer.

Further, recall that the vast majority of eliminations occurred during the T-37 phase of training. Once the student got to T-38s, they had survived a fairly significant winnowing process. But landing The White Rocket was different, and it was not unusual to wash out someone because they couldn’t land the jet. That is the situation in this story.

Lt. Smith has been unable to safely land throughout the seven consecutive rides described above. His gradebook has been winnowed for errors and submitted to a Training Review Board. The Board will review the documentation, interview the instructors, review progress checks with the pilots involved, and then validate that the process has been stringently followed before forwarding the elimination package up the chain for final dispensation.

Next, please recall the ATC Gradebook Form 803. It was Command Guidance and standard operating practice to always ask a student who was having difficulty whether they had any personal problems that were adversely affecting their ability to fully apply their faculties. Every single 803 contained the statement “Lt xxx states they have no personal issues affecting their training.” This was rigorously true of Lt Smith’s gradebook. I checked.

On to the Training Review Board itself. I was appointed a voting member. Jeff Rude, my T-38 Side Chief, was called up likewise. LTC Dave “Bulldog” Locker, Ops Officer of the 86 FTS, and therefore not in the 87 FTS Chain of Command, was the Board President. The purpose of our board is to review the training Lt Smith received and confirm he got a fair shake and that he truly lacks the potential to be a pilot. The day prior, we all got a copy of the gradebook and reviewed it closely.

The board was opened, and we stoically listened to each and every Instructor and Progress Check pilot calmly describe Lt Smith’s performance. Each interview routinely ended with “Lt Smith is a fine fellow, but he lacks the potential to complete training within the constraints of the syllabus.” We were offered the opportunity to question each officer.

Interviews done, it is Lt Smith’s turn. Bulldog says, “Lt Smith, is there anything else you’d like to say? Is there anything else we need to know?”

This is when Lt Smith begins a 30-minute Tale of Woe. As your humble correspondent drafted this section of the story, he considered trying to reproduce the Lt’s presentation but was forced to conclude he lacked the writing chops to do so. So, a summary....

Lt Smith told us about his grandfather, who flew in WWII and was wounded. He told us about his Dad who was killed in a crash. About his Stepfather, who raised him and was also an AF Pilot. About his ill mother. His sister was struggling in college. Now, before you consider me hard-hearted, please recall all those 803s where numerous responsible officers looked Lt Smith in the eye and asked him if he had personal problems. Recall that this was a command emphasis item. Recall that the Flight Commander was required to remind the students that personal problems were important and he was there to help them.

We board members are, therefore, somewhat convinced that Lt Smith is taking a Hail Mary shot at mercy with a sad story. (Training Review Board testimony, being an administrative process, was not sworn testimony.)

Tragically, Lt Smith completes his tale of bathos and pathos with this closing statement: ”…and just last week my faithful dog of 14 years, Sparky, passed away.” 

I vividly recall placing my fingers over my lips and striving to still my expression. I don’t know if I succeeded. I was fervently praying silently, “Please God, Please…Please give me the strength to not laugh out loud.” It was a close-
run thing.

Now, this is the point in the Training Review Board process where the President turns to the Junior Board member and asks, “Do you have any questions for Lt Smith?” I turned my head to see this tableau: Bulldog, unlike me, is doing a great job of maintaining a stoic, composed face. Beyond him, Capt Rude, like me, has his fingers over his lips.

Bulldog does not trust himself to speak. He turns to Capt Rude and waves his hand in a “You got a question?” gesture. Capt Rude, shakes his head “No”.

Bulldog turns to me and, having had a little more time to compose himself, asks, “Major Whisler? Any questions?” I manage to put my hand down and gasp out “Nossir”. I thank the Lord for his strength and guidance.

Bulldog, a better professional than I, says “Lt Smith, No questions, you are dismissed.” Lt Smith posts.

The door closes and the pressure builds. After a few seconds that we hope has allowed Lt Smith to go beyond earshot down the hall to the waiting room. we all collapse in laughter. 

One of us says: “I was doing OK until he threw in the dog dying.” 

We waited a respectable time to indicate a deliberative process and to recover our professionalism. We reconvened and completed the horrible process of dashing the poor kids dreams.