One of the required activities during the Drummond Island Ranger School was a trip to the local church. For us non-Christians, this was kind of uncomfortable, but there was a purpose for this activity that had nothing to do with religion or even morality. I don't think forcing us to go to church would fly today, but it was really important to our success on the Island back then. It was one of the ways that we showed respect and courtesy for the people who lived there.

At that time, the year-round population on the Island was a little over 200 people. These "Islanders" didn't particularly like people from off the Island. This is pretty common in rural places where tourism is a major industry. Being invaded by drunken campers and rowdy hunters all the time can make the locals a bit wary of strangers. Being invaded by 80 screaming lunatics with brush cuts and black berets could have been pretty disconcerting if we hadn't made every effort to make friends.

It was important to the 77th to earn the trust of the indigenous population. We needed their doctor, their food stores, and access to clean, fresh water. Like Army Special Forces who are moving into a contested area, we did everything we could to leave the locals with a good impression whenever we came in contact with them.

When we traveled through town, we sang clean jodies at the top of our lungs. The staff said the locals liked it when we did that. Several of the locals told me that they liked the fact that they had their own little military force two weeks out of the year. It kind of harked back to the colonial days when Fort Drummond still existed.

When in stores or restaurants, we always let civilians cut in line ahead of us, no matter how much of a hurry we were in. Every cadet was expected to be the "perfect guest"; polite, humble, and respectful. EVERY civilian was addressed as "Sir" or "Ma'am", even when they were our own age. Just because we were spending money didn't mean we had to act like we were entitled to service. While we may have lived like animals in the field, when we were in town, we rivaled any drill team in the discipline and appearance department. The locals saw a professional and deferential corps of cadets, not a bunch of teenagers.

The centerpiece of this policy was church attendance. The Colonel understood that if we could become an honorary part of the congregation (which included the majority of the permanent residents), we would gain full acceptance as a part of the community. So come Sunday, every cadet and senior packed that church. They had to bring in folding chairs to hold all of us.

I remember the first time I went to the church on the Island. It was like no religious experience I had ever had before. It was a non-denominational church, and much to my surprise, the minister was a woman. I had never heard of such a thing.

I had dreaded attending ever since I had been told what we were going to do. I had some bad experiences in churches prior to this time, but I have to say that I really enjoyed it. I had never been to a Christian church where people didn't preach at me. This was a collection of people who had come together to worship God. It was really cool.

The first thing that hit us was the smell. Because we had been living in the field for over a week, we were completely used to the body odor that comes with sweat, sickness, the campfire, and the woods. We were not prepared for the perfume, shampoo and soap that assaulted our senses as we walked in the door. Of course, the parishioners weren't prepared for the stink that walked through their doors either.

We had cleaned up in the waters of Lake Huron as best we could, but it wasn't nearly enough. Our soap was no match for our week of accumulated funk. As the civilians turned and winced, I began to wonder if the effort to clean us up had simply added the lake smell to our stench. Everyone was real polite about it though.

The best part of church on the Island was the music. There were the usual hymns and all, but they also had a visiting act called the Leopard Family. In true 77th fashion, we immediately and irreverently renamed them the Lepers. This was a four-piece Christian rock band, and they made the whole day a real hoot. Those of us sitting in the back of the church did a sit down version of a back-up singer dance. We had all these synchronized hand moves we were doing (like all pointing in the same direction to the beat "disco style"). We had a great time.

At one point the minister stood up and said she wanted to welcome all the "boy scouts" who were attending services that day. The colonel stood up in his jungle fatigues and beret, thanked her, and then turned and addressed the congregation directly.

"...but these are not BOY SCOUTS. They are members of an elite search and rescue unit of the United States Air Force Auxiliary. They are up here to train in life saving techniques. I know I speak for all of them when I express my gratitude for the acceptance and patience you have all shown us while on the Island."

He then sat down. There was an uncomfortable silence for about 5 seconds while everyone tried to decide if he was mad or grateful. I think it was important to the Colonel that everyone understand exactly what we were. Because of our green fatigues, we were often mistaken for boy scouts by civilians back then. After a few moments, the service continued.

Our efforts to ingratiate ourselves with the local population would pay dividends for years to come. The local ambulance company once provided a crash scene for us complete with blood and guts. We never got a hassle for using the taps at businesses to replenish our water supply, even though we must have used a hundreds gallons while up there. In 1982, we were even invited to participate in the local Island Festival. Our guys competed in rifle competitions and softball games, and the Islanders even invited us to their huge dance. We became honorary Islanders, and that was no small accomplishment.

Years later, guys would go up there and mention the ranger school. They would always get a warm reception and questions about why we didn't come around anymore. Considering how closed off an island community can be, that is a real testament to the Colonel's community relations program.

My experience with civilians on the Island, and the Colonel's view on how to treat them, has served me very well over the years. Whenever I use someone else's building, vehicle, or property, I go out of my way to show my respect and gratitude. I do this even if I have paid for its use. By consistently being overly courteous and humble, I have developed a reputation among my benefactors, parents, and suppliers as someone they like to work with.

When I was a squadron commander, we used the basement of the local library as a meeting place. Even though they had a janitor, we helped keep the place clean. The cadets swept up after every meeting and emptied all the garbage cans (even the ones we didn't use). This made the janitor a VERY good friend of ours. We helped members of the general public when they came by after hours. One of those people ended up becoming mayor later on and became a proponent of CAP. Eventually, we got our own keys to the library because we had become a part of their "community".

I treat the parents of cadets as if I have all the time in the world to talk to them. While I will not compromise standards, I make sure I respond to every complaint or concern they have. We ALWAYS end on time, and we never leave until every cadet has been picked up. In return, the parents make real efforts to accommodate the hectic schedule that we put our cadets through. The way I see it, parents are the most important civilians we deal with, and ending on time and treating them with respect is just common courtesy (not to mention prudent).

We talk about customs and courtesies a lot in CAP. I have probably sat through or taught hundreds of classes on the subject over the years. As I write this, I realize that those classes were all about customs, and not really about courtesy. In fact, the only time I remember being taught the value of common courtesy was on the Island with the 77th Ranger Support Unit. Hmmmmm....