What is the difference between an ODA, and a Boy Scout Troop?
Adult supervision.
It is said that war is hours of boredom interrupted by moments
of terror, which is true. There are volumes written on how to train, deal,
react go 0-60 in a heartbeat. Learning to breathe like you’re in a lamaz class.
Hell, even Ricky Bobby had to learn how to control his fear so he could drive
with a wild cougar in his car.
What hasn't been talked about as much is what happens to a man
(Yes. I said man. It's not sexist - women just aren't this stupid.) when the
monotony and boredom become too much, and a kind of euphoric insanity overtakes
you. It is a strange phenomenon because very rarely does this madness affect
only one person.
I had first heard about this affliction during the Q course. We
had some Vietnam vets come and talk to us. They told a story.
After a failed attack on their camp, they spotted an unexploded
white phosphorous mortar shell right outside the wire in the middle of their
minefield. Well, the demo guy got some C4 and went out there to blow it up.
Apparently, he had miscalculated the time fuse and it exploded while he was
trying to wind his way back through the mine field. The guys telling this story
were laughing their asses off, describing him hot-footing it around the mines
while White Phosphorous is raining down all around. I didn't get it at the
time, but I do now.
Disclaimer: I do not recommend any of these actions, even though
every single one of them was totally worth it...at the time. (Until our wives
found out, that is. Wives just don't have this child-like curiosity and wonder
at all the amazing things that are possible.) Also, I swear to everyone reading
that each story is true. Names will be hidden to protect the innocent and give
them plausible deniability when confronted by angry spouses, who may not have
heard some of these.
Afghanistan 2002
This was my entire team's first combat rotation. We were all
nervous and excited, not knowing what to expect. After a month or two we had
gotten our firebase built, and while construction was still ongoing, we weren't
being run ragged like we had been at first. We were out patrolling a lot, but
when we were back we had some downtime. That was when we came to the most
dangerous epiphany that could possibly come to guys in a foreign land at the
beginning of a brand new war. The fact that it took this long shows you how
ingrained and brainwashed we all were by the modern peacetime Army. Our
epiphany.....there is no Range Control at our Firebase.
Not only was there no Range Control, the closest adult
supervision (B team) was over three hours away, through prime ambush areas over
spine crushing roads. You don't really see the insanity at the time. It is only
when looking back through the hazy lens of time do the "what the
fucks" come.
I think the first time the insanity hit, I was standing on the
edge of our Firebase looking down, far below, across our DZ to where we had set
up our heavy weapons range. The range was on top of a deep cut that was not
only a river bed, but also acted as a road. Across the stream/road was a tall
ridgeline that ran parallel to our fire base. We would shoot our heavy weapons
over the road and use the ridgeline as our impact zone. Right next to the
firing line was the outline of an old compound we called the ruins. All that
was left was the typical Afghan mud wall, about 3 feet high and about 2 feet
thick.
The insanity hadn't completely taken a hold of me yet so I
couldn't quite believe what I was seeing. I saw three of our guys shooting the
60 mm mortar, similar to this. They
were standing about 15-20 meters from the ruins and seeing if they could get
the round to land inside. They were holding the tube straight up and shooting
it. Every once in a while they would shoot it, and a few seconds later they
would all dive for cover and the round would hit danger close. They would get
up, brush the dirt off and do it again.
In their defense, they got so they could set up right next to
the compound and make it land inside...almost every time.
A few days later my Bravo was down there again, this time by
himself doing the same exact thing, except this time he was using his 203
grenade launcher. By now, I was full in the clutches of this dangerous malady,
so of course I went down and joined in. If you've never shot one, if you pay
real close attention when you shoot, you can watch the grenade fly.
Trying to get a 40mm grenade to land 15 meters away is not easy.
The wind, rotation of the earth, tides, the moon's gravity and global warming
all come into play. Well, sometimes you would lose sight of it, or you would
see it coming down where you're pretty sure it will be too close, so it then
becomes necessary for you to throw yourself to the ground, in the opposite
direction from where you think it might be heading (stupid global warming). But
practice does make, if not perfect, at least less shitty, so by the end we
getting most of them right in the ruins.
Sometimes it's not insanity that hits you, but a really
"funny" idea on which you probably could have done a better
cost-benefit analysis. As a Fox, I now know to look for 2nd and 3rd order
effects, but sometimes a lack of critical thinking on your part makes your
hilarious joke less funny for you, but infinitely more funny for everyone else.
That happened to me on my third trip.
We were right next to FOB Salerno who had a medevac unit located
there. Our medics had built a good relationship with the pilots, and they would
come over and conduct training. Many times they needed to go pick someone up,
so they would fly over and pick our 18Ds up to help out, so it was not uncommon
to see the helicopters sitting out there on the airfield. I got to know the
pilots and would sit around and bullshit with them.
Well, one afternoon I was out doing PT running around the airfield,
in nothing but ranger panties, of course. I was at the end of the runway
heading toward them as they were taking off. They were going to fly right over
me so I quickly turned around and dropped my shorts, laughing at how clever and
funny I was. Apparently, the pilot thought I was funny too, because he brought
the helicopter to a hover...directly over me.
Even though I couldn't see due to the fact that I was blind in
the middle of a tornado and every orifice was completely covered in dirt, I
just knew they were laughing.
