The Swamping Currahees

I entered the Army a picky eater and somewhat of an insomniac. Within 24 hours, I could eat anything and sleep anywhere…in any position. The Georgia swamps of Ft. Stewart would add a bit more to my personal resume. By the time I left Georgia, I could drink anything!

We had swampy places at Ft. Campbell, after the spring run offs, in the low lying areas. Georgia has the real deal. Canopy overhead and lots of water underfoot, pretty much sums up the typical swamp experience. In my opinion, one swamp tends to look like another. Swampy!

For the most part, we traversed shallow areas, slightly over the boot tops. However, there wasn’t a dry spot anywhere…trees and water…and more trees and water. Any portion of your boots disappeared at the water line. The water was darker than leftover Army coffee. Everything that dies in the swamp adds texture to the water.

The Army’s idea of swamp training is to stick you in a swamp… sink or swim. On the job training allows you opportunity to figure it out. We sloshed around for hours. I tried to conserve, but eventually my last canteen drained to empty. It was time to test the Army’s water purification pills! I submerged a couple of canteens into the liquid mire of brackish water and popped a tablet in each. After shaking them up, I let them rest in my gear for a bit. I knew most things were dead in that water, but just in case an organism should live, I hoped the pills would render ‘anything’ harmless.

If you can’t eat anything or drink anything…you have never been truly hungry nor thirsty. The relentless heat and tough sledding reminded me of those ‘swamp water’ canteens. The time came to pop the top and take a drink. If I had an extra pair of socks, I could have strained the mess. However, I didn’t realize the Army would actually make me resort to partaking of nature’s best. You had to get your mind in the right place, to allow ‘things’ to traverse your throat. Swamp water IS wet…it will work under the right conditions.

First problem solved, I had one more troubling question.’Where do we sleep?’ Our lieutenant resolved that issue. We came upon an old graveyard. The hallowed place was lined with a wrought iron fence. It was compact, but it could hold a platoon. I laid my wearied self respectfully between two raised graves. The grass was thick and deep…amazingly comfortable for my wearied body. My heavy eyes stared a the full moon between the trees, lined in Spanish moss. This was truly a morbid scene. I expected Vincent Price to saunter toward me and lead me to a Chamber of Horrors.

The sun beat squarely in my face, with a silent good morning. I had a natural rise and shine. Being high and dry, I was truly grateful for a good night’s sleep. That night gave new meaning to ‘rest in peace.’

We headed back into the swamp. This would end one of our two key training exercises. The Currahees were taking each challenge with enthusiasm. We eventually were supplied with fresh water. I rinsed my canteens with relief. However, I trusted the water purification tablets from then on. We endured common hardship to grow our confidence.

We Stand Alone, together.
Currahee!