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On the verge of exhaustion and at times barely moving, he makes it with the urging of Master Sgt. Robert Hembree, a 44-year-old former San Antonio cop, and his "wingman" Christopher Balltzglier, 20, of Macon, Ga. As he stands, sand on his nose and chest rising and falling, Caldwell is asked if he'd like to crawl another 50 yards.
"I'm not sure," he says.
At this moment, basic training on Lackland AFB is plenty tough for Caldwell, 21, of Birmingham, Ala. But he and other airmen here know the worst is yet to come — and are thankful they won't be around for it.
The Air Force plans to add another two weeks to basic training. It will put more emphasis than ever on transforming would-be techno geeks into warriors, giving them rifles on the second day of boot camp.
Once dubbed the "Chair Force" for its lax physical conditioning standards, the service is evolving thanks to war in Iraq.
The Air Force is determined to close the cultural chasm between it and sister services that emphasize ground combat skills.
"It is sending a message," Gen. William R. Looney III, head of the Air Education and Training Command at Randolph AFB, said of the changes.
"And the message to each and every one of them is now they have joined a combatant arm of the United States military and they are going to be combatants."
Iraq has many lessons, he said. One is the importance of cleaning M-16 rifles, something that cost Jessica Lynch's 507th Maintenance Company dearly at the outset of the war. Yet another is being prepared for ambushes and roadside bombs.
Career specialty isn't the first priority in Iraq's desert, Looney said, adding, "You are part of the fighting force and this is a whole new perspective for our Air Force. And therefore we've got to start with a whole new cultural perspective at BMT."
Basic military training is tougher than it once was. The Air Force's "Warrior Week," a test of war-fighting skills, began in 1999. It's now called FTX — Field Training Exercise — and comes at the 41/2-week point. A final field exam called "Culmination" is given at the end of FTX and stresses fundamentals.
Young boots here defend Scorpion Air Base, a training facility on Lackland AFB's Medina Annex, from the "enemy" — these days, insurgents. They provide first aid to one airman in a drill that tests their ability to treat victims of deadly nerve agents.
One trainee reads through a manual. They have to know which shots to give, and in what order, and they have to move quickly.
Recruits face an information dump when they come to Lackland, learning everything from combat buddy care to the Law of Land Warfare.
Airman Basic Manuel Herrera, 18, of Los Angeles said he froze when he spotted a passing insurgent.
"I saw him," he said. "I'm like trying to talk, but nothing will come out."
Herrera felt like he was having a panic attack. He couldn't use any of the information he'd learned.
Trainee Melissa Cortez, 19, of Atlantic City, N.J., was among several recruits who said 61/2 weeks is too short. "There's not enough time to process what you've learned because by the time you're done, you've got to go asleep," she explained.
Airman Basic Melissa Baab, 23, of Sugarcreek, Ohio, joked that the Air Force can toughen training all it wants after she leaves. But she knows its benefits.
"I walk straighter. I walk with a sense of urgency. It's a completely different outlook going on in my life, a lot more focused. I hate PT (physical training), but yet I love what it's doing to me, how it's strengthening me," she said.
Down the road from the tents and sandbags at Scorpion Air Base, Sgt. Michael Collins, 30, of Auburn, Ala., yells at recruits as they emerge from cover, rifles in hand, and climb over a barricade. Tape-recorded machine gun fire erupts in the distance.
"Let's go! Let's go! Let's go!" he cries. "Don't jump off it!"
Trainees Zachary Wallace, 21, of Bossier City, La., and Brian Guillory run, fall to the earth and take cover. They then charge a pair of dummies. Guillory drives the butt of his M-16 into one and tumbles into the dirt.
"I'm really for any kind of training that keeps me alive," said Guillory, 23, of Lake Charles, La. "Any type of training that will allow me to go overseas and come back and be able to be with my wife and my family is fine by me."
"I'm not sure," he says.
At this moment, basic training on Lackland AFB is plenty tough for Caldwell, 21, of Birmingham, Ala. But he and other airmen here know the worst is yet to come — and are thankful they won't be around for it.
The Air Force plans to add another two weeks to basic training. It will put more emphasis than ever on transforming would-be techno geeks into warriors, giving them rifles on the second day of boot camp.
Once dubbed the "Chair Force" for its lax physical conditioning standards, the service is evolving thanks to war in Iraq.
The Air Force is determined to close the cultural chasm between it and sister services that emphasize ground combat skills.
"It is sending a message," Gen. William R. Looney III, head of the Air Education and Training Command at Randolph AFB, said of the changes.
"And the message to each and every one of them is now they have joined a combatant arm of the United States military and they are going to be combatants."
Iraq has many lessons, he said. One is the importance of cleaning M-16 rifles, something that cost Jessica Lynch's 507th Maintenance Company dearly at the outset of the war. Yet another is being prepared for ambushes and roadside bombs.
Career specialty isn't the first priority in Iraq's desert, Looney said, adding, "You are part of the fighting force and this is a whole new perspective for our Air Force. And therefore we've got to start with a whole new cultural perspective at BMT."
Basic military training is tougher than it once was. The Air Force's "Warrior Week," a test of war-fighting skills, began in 1999. It's now called FTX — Field Training Exercise — and comes at the 41/2-week point. A final field exam called "Culmination" is given at the end of FTX and stresses fundamentals.
Young boots here defend Scorpion Air Base, a training facility on Lackland AFB's Medina Annex, from the "enemy" — these days, insurgents. They provide first aid to one airman in a drill that tests their ability to treat victims of deadly nerve agents.
One trainee reads through a manual. They have to know which shots to give, and in what order, and they have to move quickly.
Recruits face an information dump when they come to Lackland, learning everything from combat buddy care to the Law of Land Warfare.
Airman Basic Manuel Herrera, 18, of Los Angeles said he froze when he spotted a passing insurgent.
"I saw him," he said. "I'm like trying to talk, but nothing will come out."
Herrera felt like he was having a panic attack. He couldn't use any of the information he'd learned.
Trainee Melissa Cortez, 19, of Atlantic City, N.J., was among several recruits who said 61/2 weeks is too short. "There's not enough time to process what you've learned because by the time you're done, you've got to go asleep," she explained.
Airman Basic Melissa Baab, 23, of Sugarcreek, Ohio, joked that the Air Force can toughen training all it wants after she leaves. But she knows its benefits.
"I walk straighter. I walk with a sense of urgency. It's a completely different outlook going on in my life, a lot more focused. I hate PT (physical training), but yet I love what it's doing to me, how it's strengthening me," she said.
Down the road from the tents and sandbags at Scorpion Air Base, Sgt. Michael Collins, 30, of Auburn, Ala., yells at recruits as they emerge from cover, rifles in hand, and climb over a barricade. Tape-recorded machine gun fire erupts in the distance.
"Let's go! Let's go! Let's go!" he cries. "Don't jump off it!"
Trainees Zachary Wallace, 21, of Bossier City, La., and Brian Guillory run, fall to the earth and take cover. They then charge a pair of dummies. Guillory drives the butt of his M-16 into one and tumbles into the dirt.
"I'm really for any kind of training that keeps me alive," said Guillory, 23, of Lake Charles, La. "Any type of training that will allow me to go overseas and come back and be able to be with my wife and my family is fine by me."