"PHEEWWT! PHEEEEEEEWWT!"
"PHEEWWT! PHEEWWT! PHEEWWT!"
As the band leader releases her last militant whistle, 130 instruments standing at attention spring to life.
Tubas bellow, saxes shriek and flutes scream as their masters swing them back and forth to the beat. Trumpets bleat like forlorn sheep, desperately trying to find the pitch, and droning drums struggle to unite the pack.
"At ease," barks the director. "It's almost like you don't want it to be good. You get it, then you lose it. Now try again."
Regardless of rain, wind or snow, they will play until they get it right, or at least close enough to move on.
Mistakes are to be expected; it's still early. But they only have a short time before they must herald the University of Montana football team's first home game of fall 2008 in Washington-Grizzly Stadium, and entertain thousands of fervent fans.
They are the glue of Griz Nation.
They are the University of Montana Grizzly marching band, and this is band camp.
Earlier this month, 130 members of the Grizzly marching band attended their annual band camp. For five 12-hour days, their lives were everything BAND.
Every year, new and returning members of the squad are required to attend camp, which initiates new members into marching and game day spirit, and teaches everyone the new season's music and moves.
Camp begins each morning at 8 a.m. with a breakfast of doughnuts and juice outside the music building. The first day kicks off with a hum of excited energy, returning members eager to get their hands and mouths back on brass and trade summer stories, and first-years ready to meet fellow band members and future friends.
But as the week progresses, the bunch becomes increasingly bleary-eyed as they trudge to the practice fields to begin long rehearsals and drill-filled days with calisthenics.
Once they are both physically and musically warmed up, director Kevin Griggs takes over by microphone from his perch on a scaffolding platform, conducting the flock from above.
For those who have never marched before, drill work begins slowly. Proper instrument carriage, intonation and pass-offs are the first skills taught, with marching added in gradually.
Griggs, who has headed the band for five years, doesn't hold auditions; anyone who has some knowledge of their instrument and the discipline to practice is welcome.
"We have all kinds of skill levels," Griggs said. "We have music and performance majors clear down to people who've played a little in high school and are still getting familiar with their instrument.
"It's all about the best sound we can achieve as a band. With 25,000 fans, you've got to have some sound to entertain them."
And entertain they do. Besides the beloved fight song, "Up With Montana," the band learns "stand tunes," short pieces played in the stands during timeouts, as well as halftime show tunes.
Tunes new to the repertoire this year include the "Lord of the Rings" theme, the 1970s hit "Takin' it to the Streets," and Green Day's political anthem "Holiday."
After group rehearsals, the band breaks into sections to work on individual parts in the music building. Here, section leaders are in charge of marshaling the motley crew into one united flock for Griggs.
Besides helping the members become pitch-perfect, these leaders also impart wisdom gleaned from their numerous seasons in the stands.
Noah Harbour advises fellow trumpeters to mark marching cues on their music by measure to help stay on rhythm.
"It just gets ingrained in your head if you learn music and marching together," Harbour said. "It's so much easier than learning the music in here and the marching out there."
In another corner, flutes learn their particular "party noise," an ironically harsh, guttural grunt their section will emit at certain times to get the crowd going.
As band camp gets under way, the learning curve for achieving harmony seems at times insurmountable. Elusive notes flutter just out of the brass range, and clumsy marching leads to collisions and sloppy transitions. Many can be heard voicing frustration during vending-machine snack breaks."Every day it's something different," complained Sam McKenzie of the drumline. "We're really not consistent right now. One day we sound good, the next day it's something different."
Rain compounds the irritation. On one day, Griggs schedules the morning all-band rehearsal for the Music Recital Hall instead of the practice fields. Though they will be marching in all types of weather, Griggs wants to give the weary marchers a break.
Quarters are cramped as sections spread throughout the hall to rehearse. A sour, stale smell that one percussionist identifies as either "wet sneakers or baby diapers" permeates the non-moving air, and the warmup cacophony is loud enough to scramble your brain.
The band is not having a good day.
Griggs, who commands great respect, never raises his voice as he tells individual sections to drop out if they can't manage to find the proper note. Leaders are given firm but not unkind instructions to straighten up their sections. Mercifully, the rehearsal is interrupted 20 minutes in by a fire drill.
Griggs runs a tight ship, each day scheduled down to the hour, but group meals and evening activities like ultimate Frisbee and scavenger hunts help ease tensions and build friendships within the group. For many, the band is more than an extracurricular activity: It's a family.
The long days serve the dual purpose of initiating new members to the band and familiarizing them with the campus, Griggs said. By the time most students arrive, first-years will have already established a social network and know their way around.
For Paul Nonnenmacher, a sixth-year drum major, joining the band as a freshman made a new and unfamiliar environment feel less threatening.
"For an incoming freshman, it's an instant family," he said. "It's the first real connection I had to the U. The university setting is such a huge, daunting thing at first, and the band is how I thrived on campus."
Bridget Davis, a fourth-year clarinet and personnel manager, said she was extremely nervous as a new member four years ago, having never marched before. But donning the white, gold and maroon uniform made all the difference.
"When I stepped into that marching uniform for the first time, I felt like I was part of a prestigious group. I walked different. I was just really proud to be a member," Davis said.
To help new members achieve that same confidence, Griggs has instituted a new mentoring program for freshmen.
Davis and another personnel manager pair two or three freshmen up with a staff member who has a similar major and interests to help the approximately 80 new members with issues that may arise during the semester.
"This goes beyond band camp," Davis said. "This is for their university life. We try to make sure that everybody's happy and having fun."

It's the last day of camp, and the sun is shining again. Before the group departs for their end-of-camp barbecue, they will have one more rehearsal, a final opportunity to finish this year's camp on a good note. They will perform the new music for members of the football team, who are casually meandering over to the field from their own practice.
But first, the drill-down.
Every year, the members compete to see who has best mastered the marching moves. Drum majors Cori Smith and Nonnenmacher will issue the commands and keep time with drum sticks. Those who mess up are instructed to fall out of formation.
The first-years begin. They arrange themselves into a large rectangle on the field and stand at attention, elbows out, hands clasped below their chins.
"SET!" yells Smith. "Forward, march! Left slide left! Backward, march! Right slide right!"
As the commands speed up, more and more fall. Those sanctioned to the sidelines call out encouragement to the remaining members, referencing nicknames bestowed over the course of the week.
"Go, T!"
"Go, Watermelon!"
"Go, Mr. Talks!"
It's now down to two. A short brown-haired woman and a guy wearing a tuxedo T-shirt are vying for top honors. Cheers escalate as they compete, keeping perfect pace with Smith's calls.
Until the guy missteps. The woman, smiling, jogs back to the sidelines to congratulatory high-fives.
The drill-down is just for fun, but to Nonnemacher it exemplifies the progress achieved in the past week. People who have never marched before now have rudimentary skills and rhythm. They're beginning to resemble a band.
The new band's inaugural performance comes at Montana's first home game against Southern Utah on Sept. 13, and Nonnenmacher says excitement is already running strong within the band, thanks to community support by the ever-growing Griz Nation.
"People have been taking notice, and the profile of the band is rising," Nonnenmacher said. "Our goal is to be as big a part of Grizzly football as we can, and to have fun. That's what we're about."
Lauren Russell is a newsroom intern at the Missoulian. She is a journalism student at the University of Montana. Photographer Linda Thompson can be reached at 523-5270 or at lthompson@missoulian.com.
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Watch a video about the Grizzly Marching Band camp
