Walking around aimlessly, my shoulders began to ache after only a few minutes. With every breath, the release of air from the tank could be heard from several feet away. Always feeling like I needed to breathe harder and faster, I had to fight my instincts constantly, forcing myself to take only a few breaths, conserving as much air as possible. In through my nose, out through my mouth, is what they told us. The discipline and focus necessary was immense, and the hardest part of firefighting is gaining those two attributes through hard work and sheer willpower.
Rolling out of the covers of my unmade bed, onto the floor of my rarely cleaned room, I stumbled down the stairs to begin my day. I ran my fingers through my messy hair, beginning to wonder what I would have for breakfast that morning. I still had yet to do any of my homework that would be due that day in class, but I wasn’t worried in the slightest. My ignorance was bliss, and I couldn’t care less what my grades were, even at a 30. The only thing I would accomplish throughout the day would be something I was forced to do, never doing anything of my own volition, initiative never crossing my mind. At the end of the day, I would roll into the same unmade bed, trudging through the same dirty room, without a care in the world, rinse and repeat.
The realization of how detrimental this type of life would be never occurred to me until I was exposed to the discipline required to accomplish these mundane tasks and forced to maintain that discipline for several weeks. At Fort Devens, an Army installation in Massachusetts, that is exactly what happened to me. While I voluntarily went to Fort Devens, I had no idea what awaited me, nor how they would task themselves to transform me for the better.
Everyday was the same, with the only difference being how the other recruits and I reacted to what was happening. At 5 o’clock in the morning, the division commanders would run through the hallway, banging on the lids to metal trash cans, yelling “reveille” at the top of their voices. We were expected to not only be out of bed, but be completely dressed in pants, boots, a t-shirt, and a blouse within the next minute, lining up against the wall outside when we were finished. A task hated at first soon taught us initiative, learning to wake up even earlier to get dressed and be ready by the time reveille arrived. We soon learned that random inspections occurred in our bunks while we were gone for the day, forcing us to meticulously square everything within, and even out of view, away.
The most obvious portion of the inspection was our bunks, which had to be made to exactly their specifications. Our pillows were to be situated 12” from the top of the bed, opening in the cover facing the windows of our room. The sheets were to be rolled back with a 6” overlap, the corners of the sheets were to be in hospital corners, our blankets had to be folded into squares with a 45 degree angle on top, with the arrow of the angle pointing towards the exit of the room. All of these details, for merely making your bed, quickly taught us attention to detail, ensuring that we did not screw up any portion of our room, or pay for it later.
Several weeks of this in combination with other seemingly mundane tasks transformed everyone who successfully completed the training. Entering a lazy slob who had no ambition, initiative, or discipline, I left a more self-confident, well disciplined person with attention to detail ingrained in my mind. These characteristics have carried me through life successfully so far, with hard work and determination being the glue that holds them together. It reminds me everyday that I am not stuck, nor helpless, nor merely taking a back seat in my own life, but instead that I have control over what happens and what doesn’t in my life, proving to myself that if I want something, hard work is the only way to achieve it.
So I walked around aimlessly, breathing in deeply but slowly, and exhaling even slower. Determined to make that air bottle last as long as possible, I walked around for 50 minutes, fighting my very own instincts of survival, and conserved my air. I ignored the pain on my shoulders, from the 60lbs of gear varying from the SCBA (self-contained breathing apparatus) to the bunker gear, and simply walked on. Discipline is the best thing that has ever happened to me, and while it didn’t, and still doesn’t, come easy, it is far better than the alternative.
Rolling out of the covers of my unmade bed, onto the floor of my rarely cleaned room, I stumbled down the stairs to begin my day. I ran my fingers through my messy hair, beginning to wonder what I would have for breakfast that morning. I still had yet to do any of my homework that would be due that day in class, but I wasn’t worried in the slightest. My ignorance was bliss, and I couldn’t care less what my grades were, even at a 30. The only thing I would accomplish throughout the day would be something I was forced to do, never doing anything of my own volition, initiative never crossing my mind. At the end of the day, I would roll into the same unmade bed, trudging through the same dirty room, without a care in the world, rinse and repeat.
The realization of how detrimental this type of life would be never occurred to me until I was exposed to the discipline required to accomplish these mundane tasks and forced to maintain that discipline for several weeks. At Fort Devens, an Army installation in Massachusetts, that is exactly what happened to me. While I voluntarily went to Fort Devens, I had no idea what awaited me, nor how they would task themselves to transform me for the better.
Everyday was the same, with the only difference being how the other recruits and I reacted to what was happening. At 5 o’clock in the morning, the division commanders would run through the hallway, banging on the lids to metal trash cans, yelling “reveille” at the top of their voices. We were expected to not only be out of bed, but be completely dressed in pants, boots, a t-shirt, and a blouse within the next minute, lining up against the wall outside when we were finished. A task hated at first soon taught us initiative, learning to wake up even earlier to get dressed and be ready by the time reveille arrived. We soon learned that random inspections occurred in our bunks while we were gone for the day, forcing us to meticulously square everything within, and even out of view, away.
The most obvious portion of the inspection was our bunks, which had to be made to exactly their specifications. Our pillows were to be situated 12” from the top of the bed, opening in the cover facing the windows of our room. The sheets were to be rolled back with a 6” overlap, the corners of the sheets were to be in hospital corners, our blankets had to be folded into squares with a 45 degree angle on top, with the arrow of the angle pointing towards the exit of the room. All of these details, for merely making your bed, quickly taught us attention to detail, ensuring that we did not screw up any portion of our room, or pay for it later.
Several weeks of this in combination with other seemingly mundane tasks transformed everyone who successfully completed the training. Entering a lazy slob who had no ambition, initiative, or discipline, I left a more self-confident, well disciplined person with attention to detail ingrained in my mind. These characteristics have carried me through life successfully so far, with hard work and determination being the glue that holds them together. It reminds me everyday that I am not stuck, nor helpless, nor merely taking a back seat in my own life, but instead that I have control over what happens and what doesn’t in my life, proving to myself that if I want something, hard work is the only way to achieve it.
So I walked around aimlessly, breathing in deeply but slowly, and exhaling even slower. Determined to make that air bottle last as long as possible, I walked around for 50 minutes, fighting my very own instincts of survival, and conserved my air. I ignored the pain on my shoulders, from the 60lbs of gear varying from the SCBA (self-contained breathing apparatus) to the bunker gear, and simply walked on. Discipline is the best thing that has ever happened to me, and while it didn’t, and still doesn’t, come easy, it is far better than the alternative.
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