And That's A Wrap on My (Civilian) Fantasy Camp
My USAF Honorary Commandership Ends After Three Year Tour.
As I waited to board the hour-long Southwest Airlines flight to Sacramento for the last time, I had a moment of reflection. No, not from the fact that the only flight I could afford was the first flight of the day, so I was milling around Los Angeles International at 5am on a Thursday. What I was thinking was that by the end of that evening, I would have formally transferred my United States Air Force Honor Commandership to ‘Alumnus’ status. Three years in the making of “serving” a branch of the military in a civilian capacity was over.
Yeah, I am and was always a civilian. An “Honorary Commander” is just that, honorary. I don’t even get to command anybody.
The United States Air Force basically has this program (under their Public Relations department) as a way for ‘civilians of note’ to learn more about the Air Force, with the expectation that these commanders go back and tell their social networks about how cool the military was. It was a fantasy camp. And unlike most people who were from Solano County, the area of which Travis Air Force Base was located, I flew in from Los Angeles EVERY TIME there was an event for Honorary Commanders. It didn’t pay—and I kind of got a reputation for being a bit of a nutjob—but I got to close the loop on something I had wanted to do for a while.
That’s right. Pose inside planes.
No, seriously. I feel like I tell this story a lot, so bear with me if you’ve heard this one: The attack on the World Trade Center happened when I was in high school. I wanted to join the military then because this wasn’t a case of terrorists doing things “over there.” It was an attack on my hometown. I was ineligible to serve then, and while I technically could still join like the Air National Guard or something, I wasn’t going to do that sort of thing now. (I got soft knuckles. No fighting for me). And so I threw my hat in the ring for the Honorary Commander program at the local Air Force base in Los Angeles. Due to a series of clerical mishaps, my application got picked up and approved at another base some 400 miles away. I jumped at the chance, not knowing how I would swing so many travel days. And bam, Honorary Commander Boyce is in the house! Bleeding money to do something in a watchalong capacity. A fantasy camp where I get to hang with the cool kids with no basic training required.
Right. As an Honorary Commander, you get assigned to a unit, and you more or less get to shadow how they operate. You also get a lapel pin, and even though it’s kind of basic looking, it’s the thought that counts. My unit was the Air Force Band, specifically the Band of the Golden West. A giant band that can be broken up into smaller bands for genre playing and touring purposes is responsible for playing at events (for free) up and down the West Coast. I would make appearances when I can, like a warm-bodied mascot, and shake hands with anyone who’d ask, “Hey, what the hell are you doing here?!” It was great. Unlike other commanders, I didn’t have rich friends or attend country clubs, so I tried to get the word out about the band was doing via my podcasts:
It was a good time.
And like most good times, after three years of service, it was time to hang it up. To be fair to me, the third year was a bonus due to some scheduling issues on the Air Force’s part. Did you know that during a government shutdown, public relations programs are the first to be paused? I didn’t!
So I sat there at my transfer ceremony, chatting up the woman who would take over my Honorary Commander role. She could not believe I would fly in from Los Angeles for events at the base, and was utterly flabbergasted when I said that a vast majority of those trips were same-day. I took some exit photos, sang the USAF Air Force Fight Song (btw, a banger…), and was on my way to get myself involved in the next goofy adventure. I did get a cool token of appreciation for my ‘tour.’ It was a unit patch and a letter commending my commitment to the cause.
Not bad for a guy who basically hopped off a plane to get that work done, baybeee!