Peterson Air Force Base Honor Guard

I have held multiple positions within the United States Air Force Auxiliary, Civil Air Patrol, including the position of First Sergeant of the Valkyrie Cadet Squadron. My job was to provide a dedicated focal point for all readiness, to watch the health of cadets, boost the morale, ensure that operations flowed smoothly, and make sure the orders of the commander were carried out by the support staff. After nine months of being a First Sergeant, I was promoted to be the Executive Officer, which is the third in command of the 52-cadet squadron. Furthermore, the leadership skills I have attained in the Civil Air Patrol carries out to various parts of my life. Specifically, my job at Western Steel Inc., where I've been tasked to train employees

We were told to get in rows and stand at the positon of attention, this was frightening. We were told to run to the bus from here, this is where I was split up with everyone I came with. The base was three hours away from the airport. On the bus ride over there I called and texted everyone I knew for three hours. I called Jed first, he could not talk long because he had a meeting, although I knew if I called my mom or Ayden they would both cry and that would make things harder on me. After I talked to Jed and he convinced me everything was ok after 20 minutes of me crying to him as if he could come pick me up and take me home. After this I texted Boone to be sure he made it on a shuttle, he did. Boone was on the Shuttle behind me. That was the last time I talked to him until the day after graduation. We made it to the reception building at nearly 11 o’clock and briefed until about one. We finally got to bed at 2, and we were woken up at 4:30 the following morning. During reception they checked our dental, blood type, eye sight, etc. this is where we received our uniforms, and most importantly where we met our first Drill Sergeants. In receptions Drill Sergeants are almost done with their contracts, they cannot make you preform corrective action, or give you RBIs, all they can do is get really close to you and scream as loud as they could. I was here for seven days, and then after those seven days were

For as long as I can remember, I feel as though I have been raised in a military environment. At a very young age my parents taught me to value discipline, manners, and to show and treat people with respect. In addition to these ‘staples’ of my upbringing, excelling in academics and on the athletic fields was where I further grew as a leader and learned to work with others to further distinguish myself from my peers. I knew based on my priorities and values that I was different from others by not only the way I carried myself but how I spoke to my peers and elders and the respect that I commanded. Perhaps those values were aided by both my grandfather’s serving in the military and my uncle attending West Point, a graduate of the class of

I was once the big fish in a small pond, but now I find myself as a worm on a hook in an ocean of big fish. Starting this journey, I can say that I was overcome with all types of emotions all at once: anxiety, fear, excitement, inadequateness, and at the end of it all I was finally calm. Knowing that I had just accomplished something that not even six months ago wasn’t even in my life plans. As a platoon, we performed feats that as individuals or a group you would never attempt let alone think about have accomplished. The slogans during that time of my career were “be all you can be in the Army” or “we do more before 9 am than most people do all day.” Within my first four years I got to travel the world and see places that most people would only dream about from Antarctica to Panama, and even to the pyramids in Egypt, I got to see it all. The military had such a powerful and profound hold on me I couldn’t think of anywhere else I would rather be. I was once told by my 1SG after a very long and trying day he said “Private Williams, where else can grown men and women have this much fun and still get paid. “I thought and pondered on what he had said, and even today 26 years later I still ask myself the same question, and it always goes back to the same answer, wearing the uniform serving my country side by side with my brothers and sisters in

“At every crossroads on the path that leads to the future, tradition has placed 10,000 men to guard the past."-Maurice Masterlinck. Being a volunteer member of a military base honor guard, there are numerous reasons that require full effort and dedication. It is important that we, ceremonial guardsmen, strive to stay true to the creed put forth for us. Respect, integrity, inspiration, professionalism and tradition are key to being an effective member of the honor guard.

I learned so much about the prestige of being in the Army. Dawning this uniform every day comes with significant weight. This isn’t limited in scope to General Officers, or those in public relations – it extends to every member of the organization. Everything you do is reflective of the Army, directly or indirectly and by being unprofessional – you are compromising the trust the organization has put in you. It is important to remain cognizant of the fact that regardless of who we are with or where we are – we bear the burden of being an ambassador of the Army and each of its values.

Once I was told I passed I started to tear up. I held it in though. When I walked out I looked at my mom and immediately started crying. I know, I'm such a baby, but I couldn't help it. It was so overwhelming!

Volunteers as a Veterans and Americans Citizen together we build this Corps with all our hearts . Were an Honor Guard to providing the Military Honor Guard ceremony for our local veterans and fallen soldiers. We have seen many flags covered casket and get ready to entomb under ground. Once ,We all witness and emotion when we saw the young son was crying at his father

For this year’s event, we have decided to incorporate a Honor Guard and will hold the memorial ceremony in the OB2 Auditorium (DSHS Building adjacent to the HQ Transportation Building). The Honor Guard will participate in the Worker Memorial by lining the steps and walkway from the HQ Transportation Building to the OB2 Auditorium. It is expected that the attire for each member of the Honor Guard would be consistent with what is worn in the field (i.e. vests, raincoat, hardhat, boots, etc.). In regards to program specifics, the Honor Guard will be in place no later than 9:45 AM. At that time, the families of fallen workers will be escorted from the Transportation Building to the OB2 Auditorium and pass through the ranks of the Honor Guard. The Honor Guard will fall in behind the families as they pass and then be seated behind the families in the Auditorium. Once all are seated, the Worker Memorial program will commence.

SGT Lucier performed admirably as a member of the Headquarters and Headquarters Battalion Funeral Honors Team. He mastered the proper funeral honors and procedures while completing a demanding training regiment. His attention to detail and professionalism were noticed by all members of the detail and commended by the command.

The date is May 30th, 2016; Memorial Day. I, along with some of my friends, are participating in a scavenger hunt that has lead us to the cemetery in our hometown. After finding the item hidden in the maze of gravesites, I cannot help but notice that the two flags next to the military memorial stone are in disarray. Immediately, I run to the flags and begin to fix them on their thin wooden rods, slowly but surely returning them back to the state of honor they once were in. After I finish, I stand back to look at the small flags flapping in the wind and I cannot help but feel pride in the country I am so lucky to call home.

Transition: Show of hands, how many of you have lost a loved one or know of

In 1963, when my grandfather was only nineteen-years-old, he was drafted into the United States Army. He was sent to boot camp in Fort Ord, California where he spent six weeks training to become a soldier. Then, he went on to complete military police training in Augusta, Georgia. After graduating and finalizing his training at the “Advance Independent Military Training” as an SPC4, he was assigned to Fort Meyers, Virginia. There, along with his other duties, he had the honor of standing guard at President Kennedy’s grave at Arlington National Cemetery.

I hated him by then. All the pain and disappointment an alcoholic father brings into a family is deep and it is wide. It was decided that he was to be laid out in his World War II army uniform. He was a Warrant Officer. Not bad for a man with only an 8th-grade education. I removed it from its plastic and noticed the buttons were tarnished. I spent hours making sure his uniform looked right and his ribbons presentable. Since at the time, the only one who was not married or had children to take care of, my mother demanded that I stay at the funeral home when the other family took a break. She did not want someone who came to pay their respect not to be acknowledged by a family member. So I was volunteered. No one ever came in the unscheduled viewing hours so I spent the time rearranging flowers and talking to my father, making sure his uniform was looked good.

We looked at each other, stood up, and headed down the big hallway and around the corner to find my mom gasping at the fact that her water had broken. This was a surprise seeing as she was not due to give birth to my little sister for another two weeks. Once again, we were out the door and in the car. My grandmother did not put me in my car seat right and I remember struggling to free my arms the entire ride. My mom sat in the front seat yelling and muttering words under her breath. I was afraid because my mom was in such a strange state but I soon realized that she was yelling more at my grandmother than at her painful stomach. Every time we approached traffic, she gasped and turned behind her with her hand on my car seat, as to secure me from some ejecting force. It was not until years later that I was told all of the stories about what a terrible driver my grandmother was and how many cars she destroyed in various "incidents," as my grandfather calls them. We reached the hospital in plenty of time, but with one problem remaining, my grandfather and dad remained uninformed and unreachable as the resided among thousands of intoxicated football fans. They arrived in just enough time to see my mom before she had my sister, but not without strategic methods to get a hold of them. They first had to be paged over the intercom and when that seized to succeed, event staff members were sent to find them standing