I am pretending to pour soda on the head of one of the other women in our flight at the squadron picnic.
I have no idea if at this point I knew whether I was going to graduate or not. I had been hearing some interesting news. The Cookie Monster fellow told me that he had been told that one of the high ranking officers in charge of OTS had said that the Air Force takes care of its own, using me as an example. So, I suspect I was feeling more optimistic as the weeks passed and graduation began to loom.
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