One memory that stands out was marching everywhere.

I don't remember much about what we ate in the chow hall, but marching back one day I started feeling sick. I was on the left front corner of our flight.

About the time I had to vomit our T.I.(training instructor} come marching up along the left side. About that time I leaned out and let loose all over the T.I.'s shoe, he yelled, "Flight Halt!" I thought to myself, boy am I in trouble now. The Sergeant looked at me and said, "are you finished?" as he wiped it off his patent leather shoe. I answered, "Sir, yes Sir!", and back to attention and forward march.

I never heard another word about it.