First in line for cake

  • Published
  • By Lt. Col. Brian McCullough
  • 15 Air Mobility Operations Squadron
TRAVIS AIR FORCE BASE, Calif. --  I have had the privilege of commanding the 15th Air Mobility Operations Squadron for the past two years and truly believe I am the luckiest man in the world.

Like all squadrons, we have had our share of bad times, but they have been outweighed by the good times and offset by our ability to rally around our "Mastermind" family.

This attitude has been captured in our somewhat tongue-in-cheek squadron war cry, "First in line for cake." Doesn't it just strike fear into your hearts? Now, before you start thinking we just sit around all day and eat cake, there is a little more to the story.

It all started at a random honor guard graduation ceremony. All available personnel in our squadron attended the graduation for a member of the squadron who arrived on station just two months earlier. Hardly anyone knew him, but everyone was there. During the post-graduation party in the honor guard building, I noticed we were the only ones who showed, so, lucky for us, we were first in line for cake.

You may think this is just another silly story, but it says a lot about the type of squadron we are and the type of squadron we continuously strive to be. For the most part, life in the AMOS is pretty easy, but, as I said, we've had our share of trials, too. In the past two years, I saw good friends promoted ahead of their time, I saw potential leaders passed over, and I demoted some of my best troops. We welcomed new babies and we mourned over deaths. We saw post-traumatic stress disorder overcome heroes and we saw others conquer their demons. We celebrated weddings and we struggled through divorces. We had alcoholics and now we have recovering alcoholics. We proudly sent Airmen off to war, and we met them with signs and cheers upon their return. We did miss one person and I still regret that to this day. I sat, stared and cried as a great friend and I first saw his X-ray of a softball sized cancerous mass and I jumped, cheered and cried again when it was gone 8 months later.

Throughout the two years, these events were never met by just one or two people. For the most part, we met them all as a squadron, as a family. We cheered when members of our family succeed and provided a foundation when they needed someone to lean on. We may not always agree or get along, but we we're always there, and, oddly enough, at most of these events, we served cake.

This family concept is key to readiness, one of my top priorities as a commander. Many think readiness is completing all your computer-based trainings, getting all the right immunizations and carrying your A and B bags around in your trunk, but I argue that readiness is a mindset. It's a mindset in which every Airman must know when they get the call to deploy anywhere in the world, in under 12 hours, their families and their issues at work and at home are taken care of, and that we will keep them in our daily thoughts and prayers until they return. That is how you make an Airman ready.

Sometimes, attending events or just taking the time to listen are inconvenient, but to the individual you are supporting it is invaluable. Ready your Airmen by building a trust that you will be there, in good times and in bad. Be the first in line to congratulate them or console them. Your presence alone, your wave from across the room, your cheer from the back of the auditorium or your shoulder to cry on will snowball into an environment where "service before self" becomes a way of life.

Your unit will be resilient. Your Airmen will be ready. Trust me, it's addictive. Just ask any of us. We'll be the first ones in line to either shake or lend you a hand and if you just happen to be serving cake, well, we'll be first in line for that, too.