Saturday
Okay, what I wore today is NOT part of my six. This has been excused because it's part of my uniform. My dad and I are part of a first responder organization and we had a drill today, which requires a certain standard of dress. Long pants, hard hat, vest, ID card, closed toed shoes, etc. So while I'm not wearing my six today, it's hardly my fault.
The outfit
Hair: In a high ponytail and topped with a green hardhat (oh, so attractive- not). The hardhat is for obvious reasons-falling debris, why else would you wear a hardhat?-and the ponytail is to stop your hair from falling into blood and to keep it out of your face.
Clothing: Pink v-neck tee-shirt, covered mostly by my yellow vest, and the required floor length pants (cargo pants) and thick white socks.
Shoes: White and pink tennis shoes which are now streaked with dirt and fake blood.
Makeup: None. You have no idea how much you sweat carrying a grown man on a littler or running around doing triage or trying to stop a guy in shock from walking into the road. Anyways- so, none.
Jewelry: Again, none. You do not want jewelry snagging on trees or bushes... or screaming people.
Accessories: My vest, my identification card on a green lanyard, triage tape hanging out of every pocket, and non-latex gloves.
Uniformity and Masks
It was so completely odd. Everyone in their cargo pants, tennis shoes gripping the ground and sending up billowing clouds of dirt as we stumbled through the bushes, tee shirts drowning in often too big vests, triage tape spilling out of hands to lay dead and defeated in piles and puddles, "blood" drying on gloves (non-latex, of course), gauze clutched in shaking hands, backpacks full of gear weighing heavily on backs. All the same, all wearing green backpacks with green hardhats and shouting fearfully for backup or immediate transport.
It's a really bubbly experience; it makes you think. But not only is the drill itself totally eye-opening (I mean, people are "dying" and "dead" all around you and it's panicky and freaky and you have to do everything all at once but you can't). Besides that, if you look at pictures from the event, it's shocking. Everyone's hair is pulled out of their face. Their faces are shadowed by their hard hats, their eyes are hidden behind protective goggles, their mouths and noses are covered with doctor's masks.
Everyone is grim and if someone were to smile, you wouldn't be able to see it behind the mask. But no one smiles. "Team 2! A bomb has gone off at the [church] picnic, we need you there immediately. Team 1 requires assistance. Call in when you get on scene. Over." Incident Command shrieks over the FRS radios and we go running, making sure hardhats are on securely and guzzling last gulps of water before the drill.
And, especially now that I've seen how changing how you dress can teach you a lot about yourself, I wince seeing the unsmiling people in their uniforms, like soldiers ready to stumble off into war. What they wear says a lot about them. And all it says about them today is: we are serious, we are here to help you, we know what we're doing, you must trust us, let us help you. But all I feel is 'I don't know what to do; what if I miss up?'. But like everyone else, I hide it behind a stern mask. Just like when I go to school, in my nice clothes but really just feel, and act, like my goofy spazzy self.
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| Sgt symbol, posted on northwestmilitary |
Sarge
And to end on a somewhat lighter note, there was this really cool guy at the drill. He was supposed to be in severe shock and thought he was in the middle of World War II. I went up to him and gave my spiel "Hi my name is S. Dorsey and I'm here with [blah blah blah] I'm here to help. Do you know what happened?" And instead of the typical "I don't know!" most people in shock give, he told me, and completely seriously, this:
"We were bombed! Sir, what happened sir? Where are the other troops? I hear screaming! Is everybody all right?" Later, he asked me what rank I was and when I said "Sergeant " he said he was too. There wasn't any emergency transportation at the time so I told him to stay still, wrapped him in an emergency blanket, and wished him the best of luck.
Every few minutes, I'd have to look up and I'd catch him crawling to aid his "fellow troops" and I'd have to shout "SIT BACK DOWN, SERGEANT!" and he'd shout back "sir, yes, sir!" and do so. Later, I heard a girl I'd been helping earlier, shout "SIT BACK DOWN, SERGEANT!" and he yelled "YOU'RE NOT MY COMMANDING OFFICER" in response. he was great. XD
Zhai'helleva,
S. Dorsey, 6th period
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