Todays the day....COMMISSIONING!!!

Congratulations to everyone. We need to wait until June 14th for the big day for our daughter. It seems like just a few moments ago we were all trying to figure out the scholarship process and now here we are... Great job by all of these young people.

Side note to K2, our DS accepted admission at University of Portland. He's not doing ROTC but is very excited about starting in August.
 
Congrats to all. Best wishes to the new officers on the adventure they are starting.
 
I echo all the congratulations to everyone graduating and commissioning! Well done!
This is all 3 yrs in my future, God willing.
You are all rightfully very proud of your newly minted officer.
 
I appreciate all the support on the board. Needless to say, my DD is excited for what the future holds and is looking forward to passing her national nursing exam so she can get assigned her BOLC date. July 14th is the 1st option for nurses.

The commissioning ceremony was very nice and it was cool to see all the traditions involved. As nice as it was, the next day they had a joint Air Force / Army commissioning where a General flew in from Korea to address the newly minted 2nd LT's and swear them in again. He was a great speaker and it was a very cool event.
 
As their commissioning approaches, I've been reflecting on the maturing of Cadet Delahanty and his MS4 colleagues. Two brief anecdotes, if you don't mind.

*******************

Home on his last vacation before graduation, Cadet Delahanty was invited to party with a bunch of his high school buddies. Knowing their proclivities, we insisted on driving him there and told him to call us when he was ready to come home, no matter what time. And if there were minors present, we warned, leave at once. Our local police live to issue MIPs. In addition to random mishaps, as followers of SAF know all too well, the potential for an ROTC catastophe is always lurking, and circumstances were ripe this evening.

No calls by midnight, we gave up and went to bed. Around 2 a.m. Mrs. Delahanty bolted upright and shook me awake: "He's not home yet". After an hour of worried pacing, I called his cell phone and got the "Please leave a message" recording. Exhausted by worry, I went to bed an hour later.

Early the next morning, I was woken by a closing door. There was Cadet Delahanty sweating and slightly disheveled. Bored by the festivities, he explained to his stuporous father, he had gotten a ride home at 10:30 and gone straight to bed. I had arisen in just time to meet him returning from a six mile run. Later he checked his phone and wondered why I had called him in the middle of the night. "Butt dial?" I lamely offered. I had not thought of checking his room.

******************

In their penultimate APFT, the MS4s in Cadet Delahanty's battalion ran the two mile event as a group. It was explained to me that their purpose was to display that they had melded as unit, learned to work together and to rely on each other during their time in AROTC. This was a way of demonstrating unity to themselves as well as the younger cadets.

Possibly I'm reading too much into this gesture. After all, running together was not unique to them. They had done it in training schools, as well as in LDAC and at CTLT and of course in morning PT. I've learned a bit about many of them over the years, and I thought of their diverse backgrounds, personalities and motivations. Believe me, it covers quite a spectrum. What made the difference to me here was the fact that they had done it by choice. I expect they will carry the lesson to the units they eventually lead.
 
EDelahanty said:
As their commissioning approaches, I've been reflecting on the maturing of Cadet Delahanty and his MS4 colleagues. Two brief anecdotes, if you don't mind.

*******************

Home on his last vacation before graduation, Cadet Delahanty was invited to party with a bunch of his high school buddies. Knowing their proclivities, we insisted on driving him there and told him to call us when he was ready to come home, no matter what time. And if there were minors present, we warned, leave at once. Our local police live to issue MIPs. In addition to random mishaps, as followers of SAF know all too well, the potential for an ROTC catastophe is always lurking, and circumstances were ripe this evening.

No calls by midnight, we gave up and went to bed. Around 2 a.m. Mrs. Delahanty bolted upright and shook me awake: "He's not home yet". After an hour of worried pacing, I called his cell phone and got the "Please leave a message" recording. Exhausted by worry, I went to bed an hour later.

Early the next morning, I was woken by a closing door. There was Cadet Delahanty sweating and slightly disheveled. Bored by the festivities, he explained to his stuporous father, he had gotten a ride home at 10:30 and gone straight to bed. I had arisen in just time to meet him returning from a six mile run. Later he checked his phone and wondered why I had called him in the middle of the night. "Butt dial?" I lamely offered. I had not thought of checking his room.

******************

In their penultimate APFT, the MS4s in Cadet Delahanty's battalion ran the two mile event as a group. It was explained to me that their purpose was to display that they had melded as unit, learned to work together and to rely on each other during their time in AROTC. This was a way of demonstrating unity to themselves as well as the younger cadets.

Possibly I'm reading too much into this gesture. After all, running together was not unique to them. They had done it in training schools, as well as in LDAC and at CTLT and of course in morning PT. I've learned a bit about many of them over the years, and I thought of their diverse backgrounds, personalities and motivations. Believe me, it covers quite a spectrum. What made the difference to me here was the fact that they had done it by choice. I expect they will carry the lesson to the units they eventually lead.
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LOL! Thanks for sharing. I can't remember how many times I've told my DS to let me know he has come home before going to bed. I sometimes wait up for hours, not out of worry, but just wanting to chat with him. As usual, sounds like Cadet Delahanty has what it takes!
 
Wow that was awesome. Congrats on graduation and commissioning. Your DS has his stuff together. Best Wishes for the start of the new adventure.
 
Congratulations, best wishes, thank you to your entire family for his service.

God Speed to Lt. Delahanty.
 
Just wanted to pop in and say thank you to this forum. From an applicant 4 years ago to commissioning as a MI 2LT a week ago, time has flown. This forum helped me a lot through the process. So thank you for all of that.

If anyone has questions about ROTC, specifically Wheaton's Rolling Thunder Battalion, I'm known by this username on social networks. Feel free to hit me up.
 
The OC Josh said:
Just wanted to pop in and say thank you to this forum. From an applicant 4 years ago to commissioning as a MI 2LT a week ago, time has flown. This forum helped me a lot through the process. So thank you for all of that.

If anyone has questions about ROTC, specifically Wheaton's Rolling Thunder Battalion, I'm known by this username on social networks. Feel free to hit me up.
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Facebook AROTC had photos up of Wheaton's ceremony. Loved seeing them. Congrats on your commission and graduation:smile:
 
Its been quite a ride here. From 4 yrs ago turning down the golden ticket to USNA and entering college still wondering about becoming a naval officer. DS joined the nrotc as a college programmer because he never applied for the scholarship. Seeing mids disenrolled because there was no funding for class of 2013, wondering if there would be funding for class of 2014 sideloads and advanced standing, changing his major to a tier 3 and luckily still getting a 2 year side load scholarship. DS commissioned this past Saturday and received the gold sword for the outstanding midshipman of the unit in front of the Sec. of the Navy and all other branches commissioning. Today he begins his service to our country as an 0-1. He will work at the unit until nuclear power school starts in August. Its been quite an adventure and thanks to all the posters on this forum for the information and advise.
 
terp1984 said:
Its been quite a ride here. From 4 yrs ago turning down the golden ticket to USNA and entering college still wondering about becoming a naval officer. DS joined the nrotc as a college programmer because he never applied for the scholarship. Seeing mids disenrolled because there was no funding for class of 2013, wondering if there would be funding for class of 2014 sideloads and advanced standing, changing his major to a tier 3 and luckily still getting a 2 year side load scholarship. DS commissioned this past Saturday and received the gold sword for the outstanding midshipman of the unit in front of the Sec. of the Navy and all other branches commissioning. Today he begins his service to our country as an 0-1. He will work at the unit until nuclear power school starts in August. Its been quite an adventure and thanks to all the posters on this forum for the information and advise.
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Wow! Great story! Thanks for sharing terp. :thumb:
 
Ohio2015Parent said:
Facebook AROTC had photos up of Wheaton's ceremony. Loved seeing them. Congrats on your commission and graduation:smile:
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Saw those too — INSPIRING! — and I have to say — there is truly something special about young people who choose this path. Congratulations to all those commissioning this May!
 
In a late morning ceremony Cadet Delahanty and a dozen classmates swore freely and solemnly to defend and uphold the Constitution of the United States and have been commissioned as second lieutenants in the United States Army. It was an occasion of great pride for these new junior officers, splendid in their tailored blue uniforms, for their families and friends, and for the cadre members past and present who had brought them to this point. (It was also lucrative for several battalion NCOs whose pockets were jingling with antique silver dollars by the end of the first salute ritual.)

The keynote speaker gave a moving speech, stirring in parts and humorously self-deprecating at other times, exhorting the new officers to take care of their soldiers. Over the last few weeks similar words have no doubt been uttered in a hundred or more auditoriums across the country. The speaker discussed history and tradition and asked the veterans in the room to stand and be recognized.

He then asked for those veterans who had served in World War 2 to raise their hands. The speaker and his audience scanned the room. Sadly, the inexorable grinding of time has culled nearly all the enemy could not; a single stooping old man lifted his hand no higher than his face. This was my wife's father.

He had traveled eight hundred miles to make the ceremony, not an easy trip for a fellow pushing 90. But my wife's family has something of a military tradition, and he was there to see it carried on. His own father had been transformed from plowboy to doughboy in 1917, serving with the AEF in the Great War. He survived being gassed by the Germans though his lungs were never the same. Oddly, though, according to my father-in-law, the Germans he met were actually decent fellows: it was the British officers his father couldn't abide. After the ceremony men much older than I came up to shake his hand and speak with him. If there had been a cash bar and if he were still drinking, he wouldn't have left thirsty.

The commissioning had an unusual significance for me as well. Joining ROTC had been solely my son's idea. Proud though we were now, we had neither encouraged nor discouraged his ambition. I offered some helpful comments on his essay, but after helping straighten out a scholarship initially offered to the wrong school, my main function in the years that followed was getting him to the airport on time. He set a goal of being assigned to active duty in the branch of his choice and achieved his goal. The academic and ROTC honors he received along the way were purely incidental to him.

Like my father-in-law, my father, gone 20 years, also served in World War 2. He had been honorably discharged but early on rebuffed my questions about the war, so I never followed up. I only knew there had been a bitter fight with his immigrant parents, whose permission he needed as a 17 year old. As an adolescent I did have a tangible connection to his experience, and it was not a pleasant one. In a box in our attic I found a set of samurai swords he had brought home from the Korean occupation. I unsheathed the longer one, the katana. Marveling at the fine steel instrument, out of its scabbard for the first time in 15 years, I gently ran a finger along the blade and realized it was streaming blood.

Anyway, just a few months ago in thinking about family history I recalled that my father had once briefly attended college in upstate New York. I always assumed he had left to get married but until now I never cared to know the timing. When my mother, then his girlfriend and later the first of his three ex-wives, responded that he had gone to college before the war, I was able to work out the details. His parents had relented but on condition that after graduating high school in the spring of 1944, he would go to college, which meant joining ROTC at Syracuse. This bright, impulsive and immature 17 year old lasted a few months before he was expelled from the program, reverting to enlisted status. He completed training in time to be shipped to the Philippines and assigned to Operation Downfall, the planned Allied invasion of Japan. That invasion was unnecessary, as were, for the time being, the 500,000 purple heart medals manufactured for it. Since he never was involved in combat, I realized his reticence stemmed from other causes.

So my son's commissioning completed in a way an arc that had begun and been abruptly halted 70 years ago. I did not share the story or its implications of failure and irresolution with my son, who did not need the dead weight of this history. He'll have enough to carry when he gets to Ranger School in a few months.

All in all, despite my fear of breaking down, I handled myself pretty well. The only close call came when they darkened the auditorium to show a video with scenes of the cadets during their four years with some childhood appearances thrown in, accompanied of course by the usual emotive music. I bit down hard on my tongue and, like I just said, the room was dark.
 
Congratulations EDelahanty to you and your son. Great post!:thumb:
 
EDelahanty said:
In a late morning ceremony Cadet Delahanty and a dozen classmates swore freely and solemnly to defend and uphold the Constitution of the United States and have been commissioned as second lieutenants in the United States Army. It was an occasion of great pride for these new junior officers, splendid in their tailored blue uniforms, for their families and friends, and for the cadre members past and present who had brought them to this point. (It was also lucrative for several battalion NCOs whose pockets were jingling with antique silver dollars by the end of the first salute ritual.)

The keynote speaker gave a moving speech, stirring in parts and humorously self-deprecating at other times, exhorting the new officers to take care of their soldiers. Over the last few weeks similar words have no doubt been uttered in a hundred or more auditoriums across the country. The speaker discussed history and tradition and asked the veterans in the room to stand and be recognized.

He then asked for those veterans who had served in World War 2 to raise their hands. The speaker and his audience scanned the room. Sadly, the inexorable grinding of time has culled nearly all the enemy could not; a single stooping old man lifted his hand no higher than his face. This was my wife's father.

He had traveled eight hundred miles to make the ceremony, not an easy trip for a fellow pushing 90. But my wife's family has something of a military tradition, and he was there to see it carried on. His own father had been transformed from plowboy to doughboy in 1917, serving with the AEF in the Great War. He survived being gassed by the Germans though his lungs were never the same. Oddly, though, according to my father-in-law, the Germans he met were actually decent fellows: it was the British officers his father couldn't abide. After the ceremony men much older than I came up to shake his hand and speak with him. If there had been a cash bar and if he were still drinking, he wouldn't have left thirsty.

The commissioning had an unusual significance for me as well. Joining ROTC had been solely my son's idea. Proud though we were now, we had neither encouraged nor discouraged his ambition. I offered some helpful comments on his essay, but after helping straighten out a scholarship initially offered to the wrong school, my main function in the years that followed was getting him to the airport on time. He set a goal of being assigned to active duty in the branch of his choice and achieved his goal. The academic and ROTC honors he received along the way were purely incidental to him.

Like my father-in-law, my father, gone 20 years, also served in World War 2. He had been honorably discharged but early on rebuffed my questions about the war, so I never followed up. I only knew there had been a bitter fight with his immigrant parents, whose permission he needed as a 17 year old. As an adolescent I did have a tangible connection to his experience, and it was not a pleasant one. In a box in our attic I found a set of samurai swords he had brought home from the Korean occupation. I unsheathed the longer one, the katana. Marveling at the fine steel instrument, out of its scabbard for the first time in 15 years, I gently ran a finger along the blade and realized it was streaming blood.

Anyway, just a few months ago in thinking about family history I recalled that my father had once briefly attended college in upstate New York. I always assumed he had left to get married but until now I never cared to know the timing. When my mother, then his girlfriend and later the first of his three ex-wives, responded that he had gone to college before the war, I was able to work out the details. His parents had relented but on condition that after graduating high school in the spring of 1944, he would go to college, which meant joining ROTC at Syracuse. This bright, impulsive and immature 17 year old lasted a few months before he was expelled from the program, reverting to enlisted status. He completed training in time to be shipped to the Philippines and assigned to Operation Downfall, the planned Allied invasion of Japan. That invasion was unnecessary, as were, for the time being, the 500,000 purple heart medals manufactured for it. Since he never was involved in combat, I realized his reticence stemmed from other causes.

So my son's commissioning completed in a way an arc that had begun and been abruptly halted 70 years ago. I did not share the story or its implications of failure and irresolution with my son, who did not need the dead weight of this history. He'll have enough to carry when he gets to Ranger School in a few months.

All in all, despite my fear of breaking down, I handled myself pretty well. The only close call came when they darkened the auditorium to show a video with scenes of the cadets during their four years with some childhood appearances thrown in, accompanied of course by the usual emotive music. I bit down hard on my tongue and, like I just said, the room was dark.
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Lovely writing, EDelahanty. Perfect last line, too. Thank you for sharing that story. I savored every word.
 
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