Friday, Saturday and Sunday.
We took off from Clark Hall early in the morning. It was crazy; everyone was packing their ruck in the lounge; there was so much olive green. I put "100 mile-an-hour" tape (military duct tape) on all my bags and wrote my name on each one. Hard to decide how to pack the ruck, deciding what I'd need first. Had to get everything in, including two MRE's. Sat down next to Sgt. Ruthann Morgan, an MS-3 and my "battle buddy" for the
entire weekend. She let me use her face-paint kit after she was done using it... we helped each other put it on. She gave me pointers; it was oily and slimy, and fun after I got over my make-up complex. lol
It's too bad I didn't take a camera along... other people had them though. This is one of the only ones of me "in the field". Thank goodness for Facebook... that's where I got all of these.
I soon fell asleep for rest of the ride, waking up as we neared the Fort's back entrance. Disoriented and confused... I had forgotten where I was and what I was doing.
We piled out of the bus into an open place near a heavily forested area. Lots of people were grumpy; Eric Timm was the CSM (probably Cadet Sargent Major), and I think Lindley was the platoon leader. They were arguing and yelling at each other about where everyone should go and what they should do. I remember it made me sour about everything from the get go.
Soon we were issued helmets, rifles and cartridges (blanks). I was disappointed my helmet didn't have a camo cover, but getting to hold a real M-16 soon overtook my thoughts. Cadet Baggot, an MS-3, showed us MS-1's an unorthodox way to use the strap on the rifle for easier access... but he was told that it was against regs. He had put it on top of the rifle, instead of on the bottom, where it goes. That all done, we were allowed to set up our tents with our buddies. Cute little pup-tents left over from WWII; just big enough for two people, two rucks, and two rifles. :) MS-3 Morgan told me to sleep with my rifle, since in the past MS-4's would try and steal them from cadets in the night. I didn't hear of it happening this year though.
The tents came in halves... each person brought their half and half the pole pieces. Most of our rucks were taken up with the GI sleeping bag...
and a very
thin pad was rolled and put on top of the ruck when we marched with them. During class the previous week, we'd practiced putting up the tents, so they all went up in a jiffy. Our bivovac (or tenting area) was very close to a couple strange mounds. Cadet Lindley called our attention to them and told us they were the homes of a protected species of fire ants... and that they'd leave us alone if we did the same to them. It freaked me out a little. I hoped the name had to do with their red color, and not with how much a thousand little bites would hurt. :(
Just after this, those who hadn't gone to the BRM were taken aside for a short rifle safety course. I think it was Ms. Rother who kept on emphasizing how to clear a jammed bullet, and we did it several times. This confused me, however, because I thought this was supposed to be done each time before firing. We were issued enough for 20 rounds for each of our 4 clips that we loaded ourselves.
Then it was lunch. Broke out an MRE and ate. They gave us 2-3 for each day, but not enough time to sit and eat them. I had 5 or 6 left over when we got back.
But as for sitting around, we did lots of that with rifles... sitting in the grass in a parameter, "pulling security". And that's how we spent the rest of the first day. They were training the MS-3's to be able to march us from one point to another with security along the route, and it took a
long time. I was lying alongside tall, wet grass, and not understanding anything that was going on. It was for something we were doing the next night... in the dark.
When it got dark this first night, the Commanding Cadet, MS-4 Metish held an informational meeting by the campfire. For the remainder of the exercise, we would have to act as if we were in a battle zone, or enemy infested area. We were to go everywhere with our rifle and our battle buddy... even if it was to the port-a-potty.
That night Morgan and I chatted a bit before falling asleep. Mostly about why we were doing this. She had run away from home and joined a few years ago... she was a sargent, and now getting her degree. I realized after she fell asleep that I needed to use the potty... but I didn't wake her up. One of the guys by the campfire escorted me the 20 or so yards to it. So silly!
Saturday, the next day, was taken up with a series of small exercises. On the first one I was clueless. We had to find a bunker, send someone with a satchel charge to clear it out and then empty a clip of ammo into it. It was a joint squad mission, and my squad must have been off to the side. We just lent supporting fire. Our next one was more out in the open.
We had to march from one to the
other with our 10lb rifle at the ready. My arms got quite tired of holding it. The next position was a clump of trees that only our squad attacked across an open field. It was more fun because we could run and drop and do low crawl and cool things like that. It was easy to understand the target, and I helped spearhead the attack. Peek was in charge this time. An MS-4 would evaluate the squad and the leader, and I don't think anyone ever liked what we did.
I didn't think I'd ever be able to know all the things the MS-3's had to know. Especially coming up with a plan of attack and defending it to a senior. A lot of our MS-3's were having trouble.
There were 4 or 5 more small
exercises after that. During one I was left in the middle of nowhere with 2 other people to hold a spot for a half-hour, while the rest of them went on. I did pull out my tactically-colored Gideon pocket New Testament from my LCE while we waited.
On the last one, Baggot was in charge and SFC Tetu was observing. We were navigating a long course of mixed terrain. Near the end I was providing rear guard to the squad and an Air Force cadet, dressed in black, suddenly jumped out, came at me from my left and "killed" me, according to SFC Tetu; the rest of the squad was engaged. As I lay on the grass, looking up at the sky, I thought about the possible reality of this situation in the future, and if I really wanted to risk it all (including my family's happiness) for something I was just dressing up for and playing at. It seemed like forever, but soon the rest came back and called in a fictional helicopter for support. Baggot picked me up to carry me to it... :)
The next exercise was another joint squad, massive operation that I didn't understand. MS-2 Manibusan was in charge of the squad now... a quick advancement. She told me to lay down amongst a bunch of fire ants, scurrying around. I balked because of them, tried to just kneel, like I saw Morgan doing across the parameter, but Manibusan insisted. I did, but unfortunately, an observing officer, a Major, happened to notice. After the maneuver, he chewed out the whole group (thankfully without mentioning my name) because of what he heard me say and do. I also saw him chewing out Morgan later, and I'm sure it's because I pointed her out. I was mortified at the time, but on reflection, I hope it helped them become better soldiers. Not a big deal, and I learned a lot from the experience without any serious side effects.
Back at the camp we packed up our tents and got ready for our night march. We started out in the light, but is soon faded into the blackest black. It seemed we were wandering without hope of ever arriving anywhere. At one point we were told to all sit down on the stony path until they figured out where we were going. And once in a while they stopped us to make sure they had everyone; thankfully, I was behind and in front of someone else all the time. Amazingly, we did end up finding our place. We camped on a gravel road that went up a small hill. There were large fir trees surrounding us with an opening to the gorgeous night sky. Even though my pad was thin and lying on a bed of gravel, I don't think I've even enjoyed a night more than that one.
Meyer, Manibusan, Morgan and I were bedded down in a row. Each squad was supposed to have someone on watch all night, since we were deep in enemy territory. Meyer fell asleep on hers though, so no one ever woke me for my turn. If that night was my favorite experience, Sunday morning was definitely the worst.
We found out they were going to wake us earlier, but because of the late arrival, they postponed the artillery attack a little. I am serious... that is what happened. It was kind-of fun, in retrospect, that we were woken that way, but at the moment people were screaming at us to pack fast and keep our heads down. In a real artillery barrage I wouldn't care two figs about stowing sleeping bags. :) But we did. And then we lay in a parameter on the icy-cold gravel facing into the forest, lying in the shade for THREE and a HALF HOURS. People said an infantry attack was coming, so we needed to keep on our guard, scanning the forest for movement. And there was to be no talking. I lost feeling in both my feet.
When they finally decided on what to do, they yelled for everyone to hustle out of there. When I finally got my ruck on and managed to stand up, I started to run with numb feet. I've never felt so awkward.
This was the final exercise of the FTX. It was a joint attack of the entire cadre of Army cadets on participating Air Force cadets. I only saw a small portion of the actual fight. We set off on a long march through the tangled forest. A few minutes into it I started feeling light-headed. I hadn't eaten yet or drank much water. I had 5 MRE's in my ruck, along with everything else, and I couldn't figure out how to drink and keep up with the march at the same time. It seemed like every branch reached out and grabbed me.
Suddenly we stopped for some reason (someone sprained their ankle), and SFC Tetu noticed I looked unwell. He made me sit, drink and eat, and asked an MS-4 to take my ruck for me. This helped immensely. We continued the march and broke into teams in order to take out the Air Force. My squad started out into the open around the base of a very large tree. We had to low crawl, and there were fire ants. I had no wish to repeat the previous embarrassment, so I got down without hesitation. The extent of the battle for me was a lot of running and heart-pounding. It was a huge, open field of brown grass with Mount Rainier looming over the treeline. I don't think I shot anyone, specifically, but I had learned by this time about my first mistake with the lesson we had. Afterwords, we lined up in column and marched on the road back to camp. I decided I could take my ruck again, and I made it just fine with a bit of huffing and puffing.
We loaded onto the buses, waited, then had to get off again because someone had left some trash somewhere for senior cadre to pick up. So we did punishment pushups together (I'm sorry to say, grudgingly on my part) and then got back on the bus. Military teamwork without condition hadn't quite found a place in my heart yet. It didn't seem fair to my civilian, independent self.
Our drive was very short, however.
We went to the near-by Army Reserve facility who we had borrowed the rifles from. We had to dismantle and clean our weapons until they were sparkling... the reservists themselves didn't keep them in much good condition to start, and the MS-4's weren't going to let us do anything less than a perfect job to give a good account for ourselves.
It took us 2-3 hours to appease our seniors. On my third try, after at least an hour and a half of detail scrubbing in the smallest parts of the rifle, I cried after they told me it wasn't good enough. I was stumbling tired and unsure what else I could do. But I did more. And I finally got it done.
One thing was for sure: this was no place for me. My body and spirit couldn't take that kind of treatment at that point in my life, even if I somehow passed the tests and got past taking every criticism personally. No, not for me. That was going to be it.
Husky Battalion, Army ROTC program, Winter Quarter, January 2005.
quarter was a group presentation. We were supposed to plan a field trip and give a brief (called an "operations order") about it. We did this, and again, even with just a small part of it to read, and even a smaller audience, I was nervous as can be. Since our field trip was a visit to the Fort Lewis Military Museum, I was able to recount previous experiences of my own there, and loosened up a bit. The MS-4 who critiqued us complimented me on this, and that really helped.
Wednesdays we were always in uniform throughout the day (in all our classes)... the old style, woodland green camouflage most days, and sometimes the Class A or B uniform, which was the forest green jacket and trousers with a light blue-green blouse (B is without the jacket). The university had it's own ROTC unit patch, a purple shield with four gold columns and the university's motto above them:
Meany Hall let out. Some days I stayed in uniform all the way through! Once I was waiting for band to start (at 7pm), reading my history book for my Junior Seminar class on the History of Peru at the base of the statue of George Washington, when a photographer from the Daily, the student newspaper, asked to take my picture with the setting sun in the background. It appeared on the bottom of the next day's front page, mentioning me by name and giving the weather forecast. Me in uniform, doing my homework. :)
In fact, Cadet Lindley took Early American History (HIST 301) with me Fall quarter. We sat together, and because she would wear her uniform on Wednesday, we got to talking about ROTC. She was one of the main reasons I did end up trying it out. She is the one who told me later on when I was struggling with the PT, that the only way to improve pushups was to do more pushups. Didn't like knowing that, because I couldn't do any.
