What separates war games from general maneuvers is that two distinct military units are pitted against each other. You gain a deeper sense of your own unit’s strengths and weaknesses through competing with opposing forces. Sometimes there are embarrassing blunders.
We entered the forest rather late. We were told not to set up camp, but to eat our evening rations quickly… no fires. Now c-rations are packed in grease. Cold C’s is an acquired taste.
We had experienced a sporadic rain throughout the day. It didn’t look good for sleeping dry. It was then that we were told to assemble…we were heading out. The infantry was home now. I made my way with the second squad; we fell into columns for a forced march. As usual, I didn’t know where I was or where I was going. (Medics are headquarters support personnel embedded in the line as needed.) I did know that I would go with this platoon to hell and back. We were moving out as a full company, each platoon had their own medic.
I joined the army at about 95 pounds. After flunking the first physical, I ran into my family doctor. He served as a civilian consultant for the Army at my medical training base, Ft. Sam Houston. Dr. Briggs advised me to eat all the bananas I could hold, prior to being scaled for the next weight requirement. Well, it worked long enough for me to take the oath.
I literally and figuratively grew up in the Army, on a fast track. You take the oath…you are a soldier. What I lacked in body mass, I made up in heart. The extra year of training put on most of the 40 pounds of additional muscle, that I left the army with. The Airborne Way was a lifestyle that brought out your personal best. On my last combat proficiency test, I had maxed four of the five requirements. Training builds both strength and confidence. The battle is always first won or lost between the ears. The values learned in training served to give me a winning edge, on anything I tackled, throughout life.
Moving through the woods at night, with full packs and no trail will test your metal. The showers resumed to add the finishing touch. We were past being tired. I thought we just might set up camp soon…until we entered the swamp! I am thinking to myself, “where’s this going?’ It slowly began to dawn on me, we are ‘going’ to march all night! We were soon completely soaked up well past our knees. Wet socks do strange things to your feet, after a few miles.
At the earliest hint of dawn, I could sense a slight elevation. Orders were passed, man to man, “keep total silence!” The wet ground kept our movements basically quiet; we just had to keep our equipment from giving us away. There were about 100 soldiers in our unit. We all took position underneath the bank, that separated us from the solid high ground.
Peeking up over the berm, I saw our objective. We had marched completely around the enemy force and were going to hit them from behind. Nothing was protecting their rear. They were sound asleep in their comfy pup tents.
At the first ray of dawn, we jumped the berm like maniacs yelling, “Kill, kill, kill!” The officers threw a couple of smoke grenades for emphasis. Then a couple of tear gas canisters were thrown into the mix of tents. The ‘enemy’ poured out of their sacks, in their underwear, with tears in their eyes. I could see no evidence of leadership; I couldn’t see any attempt of resistance. I looked at their unit patches, and I thanked God they weren’t airborne! It was a total rout.
Our whole unit was ecstatic, to the man. We were good for the rest of the day on shear adrenaline. We set up an early camp, but I couldn’t get that morning sight out of my mind. I would be going to war soon. I was thankful that I would be serving with one of the toughest units America could produce. I had just seen the results of anything less. I was glad that I hadn’t settled for less.
When one paratrooper says, “Airborne,” the only proper response is, “All the Way!” It was a code spoken…and also lived.
