Shooting Blanks in the Smokies

Be careful when the army spares no expense! Our last stateside trip was to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. We convoyed for this trek. It was one of those wide open spaces road trips, that wouldn’t quit. The army had plans that we would conduct a combat jump in Vietnam, in a mountainous area. Therefore, to the hills we go!

They asked who had civilian drivers licenses. We would spend significant time on civilian roads. To date, I personally saw no use in gaining one. A car purchase was out of our pay grade; the maintenance on a fix-or-repair-daily kept the average car owning soldier broke. My lot was to take in the sights from the back end  of a two and a half ton truck. So, I took it all in, with eyes wide open.

This was my first time at serious mountain trekking. Our legs were in great shape. I did note that different muscles would tighten on long descents. Everything was either up or down. Tactically, we ascended by ridges, versus the stream beds and dry ravines. The easier paths made us more susceptible to an ambush.  I also noted that the mountains seem to grow more ridges…there was always one more ridge when you had hopes to see the top. Keep climbing soldier!

With perfect weather, the days of maneuvers flew by. We were provided some blank ammo to fire up the hills. It was all good training. Our platoon finally settled on a ridge, overlooking Battalion Commander Geraci’s command tent. (We may have rotated into perimeter duty.)  In the cool of early evening, I observed two ladies walking up the path toward the command post. This was a very large national park. Where did they come from?  One carried a long rifle, that would stretch the length of her; the other lady carried the  ammo. These were real mountain ladies. I doubt they carried blanks!

On their approach they demanded, “Who’s making that ruckus in our hills?” In some respects this was quite humorous. However, I could envision one of our tactical platoons in  a firefight with that long gun.  The ladies would win hands down! Somehow, I thought they were just bored and they wanted to make a statement. I don’t think the opportunity of chatting with several hundred guys came that often in these parts.

The Mountain Ladies had a certain rugged appeal. Their wide brimmed hats framed their weathered looks. Our alternatives were mountain lions and bears. However, their ages were more in common with our top brass. Our commanders resolved their concerns with great diplomacy…and a touch of airborne chivalry. Our Ladies of the Mountains sauntered off triumphantly…gun toting…fading round the bend.

The unit training experiences faded pretty much the same way…round the last bend. Training saves lives; it must be embraced wholeheartedly, to save lives.  Two things stand out, after years of reflection. We grew closer and more cohesive with each passing day. We had a Rendezvous with Destiny…live or die…we would share the same experiences as one.

The closer we grew, the more distant we were from anyone else. We never fit neatly into the natural space of others. Everyone stared at us…trying to define us. We reminded them of the war televised daily, yet we were a flesh and blood evidence of that distant reality. They would lead ordinary lives. There was nothing ordinary about us.

Human beings don uniforms daily. They remain fully human, yet the uniform serves to separate. We laughed and cried. We trained hard to fight hard. We slept, we celebrated. We whispered private fears. We talked tough. If you took on one of us…you took on the whole unit. I have never seen that degree of loyalty since.

Let’s pack up Currahees. Out time has finally come.