The new cadets with their freshly buzzed haircuts are trying on combat boots. It’s their third day at the Illinois State Police Academy, and they look confused and worried. 
While some squeeze their size-9 feet into the remaining size-8 shoes, they all hear this advice: “Make sure you get a boot that’s comfortable. You’re going to be wearing them for 26 weeks and doing a lot of marching.” 
The quartermaster orders more size-9 boots. 
On that early October afternoon, 26 weeks was only a vague length of time. April 7 seemed far away. 
These cadets could not grasp exactly how long 26 weeks at the academy would feel. They didn’t know how much marching, studying or exercising could be packed into six months. And they didn’t know how little freedom they would be given. 
 “It’s the little things

They’ve lived one block away from each other for most of their lives. Born nine days apart, they often throw joint birthday parties. They have every class together, often sitting next to each other, thanks to alphabetical order. Their lockers are side by side. They shop for clothes together. They finish each other’s sentences. 
Mary Hanlon and Dawn Johnson, both 17, have been best friends forever - from day care to high school, from summer camps to proms. Some classmates even regard them as one person. 
“We are known as a single entity — Mary-Dawn,” Mary says. 
“You gotta say it real fast — ‘MryDwn,’ “ Dawn says. 
Sure, they’ve had fights. Their first