Military Training Journal for Air Force Deployments

I officially closed on my house on Monday, the 10th of September. However, I'd been sleeping in the house since the Friday before because I'd used up all my time in VOQ and the realtors were nice enough to forget to lock the door. So that means I slept in my house for a grand total of five days before I had to ship out for deployment training; euphemistically called Phoenix Warrior.

Wednesday morning bright and early, I carried all of my bags to the airport: one duffel bag (with wheels), one carry-on clothing bag (which in hindsight should have been a backpack for easier carrying), and last but not least (especially in the weight category) my mobility bag.

The first night at Forward Operating Base (FOB) Victory was full of briefings, one of which differed significantly from the rest because at the end we were issued experimental socks. We're only allowed to wear three pairs of experimental socks for two entire weeks. I'm confident that I was put in the control group and therefore simply wearing normal socks in incredibly sweaty/grimy conditions without changing them. My feet are going to smell great when I get back.

15 September 2007 - Saturday

Today we were told to bring our M16's to the firing range. On a more ominous note, we were also told to bring our gas masks. The SMSgt in charge of the range was a seasoned veteran that personified the image of a modern warrior. He wasn't built like a body builder, but he was lean. He was also very agile and the gracefulness with which he carried himself in no way diminished the perception that this man was dangerous. In fact, it increased it. He ran us through what seemed like endless firing drills. We fired the guns in about every position imaginable and then, just when we thought we were done... "Gas, Gas, Gas" and we did it all over again in chem. gear.

After a fifteen hour day of shooting drills, the ride back to FOB victory on the deuce-and-a-half (also known as a 2 ½ ton troop transport) was a welcome time for sleep. This is where we learned that the collar on the flak vests that protects your neck from metal fragments is also good for bracing your head in a comfortable sleeping position.

We made it back to base, unloaded from the vehicles, and almost made it back to Squad Five's (my Squad, HUA!) tent when we were told to halt. The other squads quickly cleared off to their own tents for some much needed rest. We were just starting to question why we'd been stopped when Varma (from fireteam B) spoke up: "My gas mask is gone." Now, when someone's equipment goes missing, and that someone is a member of your squad, the result is seldom good for you. Then, as if on cue, "Squad Five! On your faces! Put your legs on the shoulders of the person behind you. You are not functioning as a team, but that doesn't mean you can't exercise as one." Needless to say, we did a lot of group pushups (sometimes called 'caterpillars'). Our tormentor then told us to stay put and promptly left. Two hours later we were asked: "Why the hell are you still out here? Get some shut-eye. We've got an early day tomorrow."

16 September 2007 - Sunday

It was freezing cold when I first woke up. Muslim prayer music permeated the base (relaxing to me and aggravating to others). No one wanted to get out of their sleeping bags, but I finally forced myself out and started to change into my BDUs. I couldn't stop my teeth from chattering and the shaking of my hands made it hard for me to button up the ridiculous amount of buttons and snaps on all of my gear. Since I recently moved to Florida, I'm afraid it's made me a pansy as far as cold weather is concerned.

First thing we did was drive out to the firing range and qualify (or requalify) officially on the M16. I shot 38 rounds through the targets so I just missed getting an expert ribbon. Most of my non hits were when I had the gas mask on. They also had a few foreign guns for us to try out (AK-47, galiel, etc.) along with a suppressed M4 that I enjoyed using on full auto. We then spent the afternoon learning how to drive several different types of convoy vehicles. Really only two things worth noting occurred. Ironically, our gas mask tormentor from the previous night lost his knife. Lucky for him (or unlucky) Squad Five found it for him... The second thing was that Squad Five was officially issued a humvee. I have a feeling we'll see what extra troubles this will cause us starting first thing in the morning.

17 September 2007 - Monday

So guess who pulled guard duty this morning? You guessed it. Yours truly, bright eyed and bushy tailed at four in the morning. Of course, my other squad mate, Acosta, got guard duty as well and seeing as how I was the only one with an alarm, I also had the pleasure of waking him up at midnight for his shift. Acosta's a real go-getter and he's got a good sense of humor so I don't mind helping him out. He's from Puerto Rico and he likes to talk a lot faster than I'm used to, so that coupled with his accent and humor make for some amusing conversations. Standing full height, he comes up to the middle of my chest. This means that the one-size-fits-all flak jacket actually protects his entire torso. I have about four inches of unprotected torso, but some other members of my squad have almost an entire foot.

The flak vests are heavy and they keep getting heavier. It seems like every day we get a new piece of equipment that must be on us at all times and the best way to ensure you have this piece of vital equipment is to clip it to your flak vest. Today the new piece of vital equipment added to the list was a rain poncho. To be honest, a poncho's weight is almost negligible compared to the rest of our "battle rattle," but the principle of the idea of adding extra weight is still quite heavy. My back hurts. It's a deep muscle pain in the lower left side. Normally I don't have time to focus on the pain, but as I said earlier, I'm on guard duty real early in the morning. The more curious among you might ask what amazing military gadget I'm guarding. Well, hey, someone has to guard all the blanks.... and that suspicious looking box with the skull and cross bones on it.

Once everybody at FOB victory started waking up and finished getting ready for the day ahead, we loaded up on the deuce-and-a-half and went to the advanced version of Self Aid Buddy Care where battle hardened EMTs and medics showed us why textbook medical treatment is incompatible with war time situations. During the convoy ride over, I learned that Fireteam Alpha had to wake up early and inspect all the fluids, belts, lights, tire pressures of our assigned vehicles (this is going to be a morning ritual).

Back to the medics. The instructors needed four volunteers for carrying the collapsible stretcher/litter that holds the wounded and I decided to volunteer. I was the litter commander which means that I gave all the orders pertaining to where and how the litter moved. Since the litter had 360degree security, provided by 30-some-odd officers, I had nearly thirty-five people loosely at my command. We carried the wounded soldier over walls, through dense brush, and even fifty or sixty feet doing the low crawl under barbed wire. During this, we had to constantly assess his condition and reapply any tourniquets or bandages that fell off while moving. Now, I realized the training was a little unrealistic since thirty-four soldiers (airmen...whatever) wouldn't be guarding one so I pretended the patient was the President.

After I saved the President, we loaded up and convoyed to an ominous building with a clearly marked entrance and exit. The dreaded gas chamber was upon us and many of us were a little nervous. This would be the first time many of them had ever even tested their gas masks. We took off our battle rattle and quickly got into our chem. suits. Then we put the battle rattle back on over all the chem. gear. This process was a lot slower for some than others since everyone had such varied degrees of chem. training. We formed up into groups of twenty outside the building to await our fate. The first group went in and mine moved up right beside the door. An Army Sgt went around checking our masks and answering any questions we had about our upcoming event. "They're going to keep the concentration low since this is the first time for many of you so if the seals on your masks aren't quite up to par, it shouldn't be a big deal. This exercise is more to get you familiar with the equipment and become confident in your masks." Senior (what we've taken to calling the SMSgt we met earlier) checked Kennedy's mask and joked about how tight Kennedy had put it on. He went on to reassure Kennedy that the gear really does work and Kennedy visibly relaxed.

People burst out of the exit door choking and coughing; some dropping to their knees to vomit. Senior looked at the Army Sgt who simply shrugged and said "Hmm." Senior: "Well hell, looks like they gave those boys the works. Alright, no sense in wasting time group two, that gas isn't cheap."

I walked into the chamber with Kennedy, Varma, Hart, and Acosta. There may have been more of Squad Five, but everyone looks the same in full chem. gear. I felt a slight scratching in my throat, but other than that my mask seemed to be working. Thinking back on the itchy throat, my day would have sucked if that had been a nerve agent. I'll have to see what's up with my filter later.

Acosta started coughing inside his gear. I could tell it was him because he was easily the shortest guy there. The Sgt in charge of the chamber told everyone to remove their masks. I took a deep breath and yanked it off my face only to realize that in my rush to get as much filtered air as possible I accidentally kept inhaling (deeply) for a split second once my seal was broken. My chest was burning on the inside and mucous streamed from my nose. Someone sounded like they were throwing up (later found to be Hart dry heaving) but I could barely see from the tears in my eyes. People bolted for the door. Acosta quickly slipped out the 'Entrance Only' door. I was gagging and fighting the urge to vomit. I decided to bolt for the door as well, but a huge group had already created a Charlie foxtrot at the exit so leaving took a hell of a lot longer than I wanted it to. When I got out, I walked quickly, flapping my arms to get rid of the gas on my uniform. Mucous, tears, and drool dripped from my face and slid down my shirt and gear, but that was the last thing on my mind. I wanted air. Good, clean air. We ripped off our protective gear to leave behind gas that soaked into it and we inhaled air deeply in huge, gasping breaths. Air never tasted so good. Bowling and Cox came by to see how I was doing. I must have looked like a crazy person, smiling and waving at them while all sorts of slimy fluids oozed from my face. I even told them I'd do it again if they'd go with me...

18 September 2007 - Tuesday

Land navigation began today. I know compasses are small and don't weigh very much, but I currently have two problems with them: one, they were issued to us so they're now an additional weight we're now accountable for and two, the glow in the dark part of the compass, although very cool, is radioactive. Yes, I said radioactive.

Fireteam Charlie (my fireteam, HUA!) was split in two and added on to Alpha and Bravo. Corregan and myself were attached to Bravo, Acosta's fireteam. After morning instruction, we were given four 8-digit grid coordinates and three hours to make it to each location.

So far, today had the highest casualty rate. Kemp was feeling sickly this morning and actually threw up not long after we broke formation. She wasn't able to keep any water down and passed out from dehydration during a grilling push to a checkpoint. Rondaeu got cracked across the forehead with a rifle butt when one of her squad mates slammed into her after falling down some treacherous terrain. We think she might have a concussion. The third and final casualty of the day was Donald Johnson, a member of Squad Five and fellow Charlie fireteam member. He was attached to Alpha for the day so I didn't actually see the events that led up to his wound. Apparently one of the team members needed help crossing the river and Donald valiantly came to the rescue, but got banged up against some logs in the water that put a gash across his face. Later in the evening, when only Squad Five was present, we presented Donald with a Purple Heart (the makeshift cardboard version) provided by Eileens's artistic use of a knife, dining hall plate, and pen. Clifford (the Charlie Fireteam Leader) even gave a speech. That was a definite morale booster.

19 September 2007 - Wednesday

Tactics and field craft. I grew up doing this stuff. Squad Five went deep into the woods with our instructor. He started running so we started running to keep up. Moving fast with full battle rattle is one of the quickest ways to make yourself real tired in a hurry. "Anyone ever heard of the Russian Role?" Apparently Hart had so he dove on the ground to demonstrate. He laid in the prone firing position, popped up, charged forward, dove onto the ground and then rolled sideways back into the firing position. Honestly, I was a little surprised at how smoothly he pulled off the maneuver since he's a little on the heavier side and never seemed particularly coordinated in the short time that I've known him. The first time we did the Russian Role as a squad was a disaster. Some rolled left while others next to them rolled right creating tangled groups of bruised squad members.

Next we learned some squad patrolling tactics like the wedge and column formations. We practiced them and simulated running into the enemy and egressing. I think the funniest moment was when Captain (Squad Five Leader) was trying to lead us out of incoming indirect fire (mortars, artillery, etc.). He'd just recently learned the best way to do this was by calling out a direction on the clock arbitrarily and then an arbitrary distance (i.e. 9o'clock 50 meters). You do this three or four times in a row so you're out of the area and much harder to target, but his random distances and directions had inadvertently brought us back to the exact spot where we'd first received indirect fire. I got a laugh out of it, but other members found in disconcerting that those types of orders could have killed them. I figure no use crying over spoiled milk. Just remember not to drink out of that jug anymore, right?

Then we went head-to-head with the other squads. With four full clips of blanks and Miles2000 gear at the ready, we scouted the woods for another squad to ambush. Kennedy spotted them first and began to engage. I hit the dirt, but I was guarding the back right flank so I couldn't see much of the action. Captain gave the order to form a line so Charlie covered Bravo as they pushed up to help Alpha and then we pushed up to finish out the line. Someone threw a smoke grenade while we were bounding forward from cover to cover and during the confusion I got separated from Fireteam Charlie. Fireteam Leader Clifford shouted for Charlie to take the right side of the line so I had to low crawl from tree to tree with fire zipping past me. Once I'd reconnected to Charlie, we flanked the opposing team. It was at this time I realized my poncho had disconnected from my web belt and wrapped around one of my legs. It didn't matter because I was in position to fire. I took aim, pulled the trigger, and click. Click. The bolt wasn't sliding all the way forward! I put my head down to fix my gun while the rest of my fireteam obliterated the resistance. I'd just gotten my rifle ready when the instructors called a cease fire. This is how the used ammo count at the end of the day went: Kennedy with sixty-two (each round manually fed into the chamber due to gun problems; later received the cardboard bronze star for this feat), many people that shot in the thirties, and me: ZERO.

To finish up the day, our instructor took us even deeper into the woods so we could "Become One With Nature" and heighten our senses. It was very relaxing, but also a little eerie that an entire squad could be silent and motionless for so long. I enjoyed it.

20 September 2007 - Thursday

Urban warfare and convoy training. Lots of powerpoint in the morning. Very useful information, but we were so tired it was hard to stay awake, let alone focused.

I talked to Kemp to see how she was doing. She'd gotten sick a couple days ago and she was only doing a little better today. She looked groggy and generally pissed that she had to be awake so I told her to "think happy thoughts." I was rewarded with a fierce showing of teeth that in no way resembled a smile. She was definitely not feeling good. Kudos to her for sticking it out.

Not going to lie, definitely a little disappointed with the convoy training. Especially since attacks on convoys are our main concern in the war right now since that's where all our casualties are coming from. So here is our convoy training in a nutshell: Park two humvees and several deuces in a row out in the middle of a meadow, load them up, and then jump out of them as quickly as possible for about an hour.

During one scenario, I was the driver and Acosta rode shotgun in the deuce. The vehicles were in park and not even turned on, but we had to simulate driving. A jet passed low overhead as the instructor was explaining the scenario and then he shouted, "Boom, contact right, contact right!" I ducked and slammed my door open quickly. Then I grabbed Acosta's gear and helped him climb through from the passenger's side out my side. Then we went and set up defensive firing positions to help protect everyone else. That's when we noticed two things: We were the only two outside on any of the vehicles, and the instructor was staring straight at us. According to the scenario we'd misheard, we apparently jumped from a moving vehicle, leaving a fully loaded troop carrier driverless and set ourselves up to guard a random hostile area that the rest of the convoy sped through, leaving us all alone. What a way to end your day.

21 September 2007 - Friday

MOUT training. Military Operations on Urban Terrain for those not accustomed to the acronym. This was fun. They drove us out to a little, empty town area with buildings for us to clear. We were a little sketchy at first, but we quickly got the hang of it. Clearing stairs is the scariest part. After trying it many different ways, we determined that you have about a 1 in 5 chance of making it up the stairs to the second floor. So what did I take from this lesson? Shooting through the ceiling makes clearing the second floor a lot easier.

Each squad went and practiced clearing multiple buildings while taking fire from the surrounding buildings. Once we'd done that a few times, they gave all five squads an entire town to clear. The captains had a quick planning session and I put in my two cents worth of what we should do. A plan that incorporated some of my idea was decided upon.

The squads formed just inside the tree line along the village edge. Squads 1, 2, and 3 were to storm all the houses and large buildings on the left side of the town while Squad Four cleared the buildings on the right. Squad Five ( my squad) was to provide suppressive fire as the others moved on the town and act as a reserve if anyone got bogged down. Everything was going smoothly and Squad Five was moving into a better firing position by finding concealment near the outhouses at the edge of town when Eddie was hit. What a crappy way to go. We were taking fire and had to move fast. Captain ordered us to take cover behind one of the cleared buildings. We then stacked up (a way of moving tactically) and pushed into the town to link up with Squad Four.

We reached Squad Four only to realize that their squad leader was down. While Captain assessed the situation, I pulled security on his impromptu headquarters. We were being shot at from a building at an angle to us and insurgents were moving up. Clifford put his hand on a door that opened out toward the action and used his other hand to count down from three. Then he yanked the door open and I fired several bursts into the surprised insurgents that, oddly enough, stopped moving forward, and ... stopped moving in general.

Another fireteam went to clear a building and shouted "All Clear" to signify the building was safe. Then someone shouted "Allah Akbar" followed by a large explosion. That entire fireteam had been wiped out by someone (later identified as Senior) that had been hiding in the rafters and dropped a grenade on them. Shortly after, a cease fire was called and we all gathered around to hear the instructors critique our tactics. Two things: bad ass building clearing and lots of friendly fire from the first three squads. One out of two ain't bad, right? Right?

22 September 2007 - Saturday

Show up bright and early for an intel brief at 0600. That's what we were supposed to do. Everyone piled in, sitting shoulder to shoulder, the flak vests and web belts not doing anything to make it seem less cramped. Then we waited... for an hour. Army personnel came in and started setting up for a briefing of their own. We needed to move out of their way and find another place to hold our briefing. We commandeered the chow hall and then went back to playing the waiting game. Another half hour later and the briefing on how to give intel briefings started. He told us some details about our upcoming mission and then made each squad give an intel brief. I didn't want it to turn into a "Ground Hog's Day scenario" with everybody repeating each other so I volunteered to give the first briefing. I left out the extraneous info that the briefer had just told us, like the history behind the conflict and what allies we'd be able to call air and artillery support from (like we're really going to get air support anyway). I tried to set the precedent, but the next squad didn't take the hint. I had to sit there and listen to four other squads give detailed briefings full of info not applicable to our mission... the same info, repeated four times. At least I tried.

We loaded up and drove out to a wooded area with a field in the middle of it. We set up along the tree line for lunch. In the distance we heard helicopters. They were getting closer. I saw one through the trees and it banked to circle the field. Then it flew straight toward us, pulled up hard to hover just in front of us, and then landed. Another helicopter popped up above the opposite tree line and did the same thing. We split up into chalks of eight to practice ingressing and egressing from the UH-60's. First we did it with no gear and then we did it with full gear several times. The main thing to worry about is making sure you never enter or exit the helicopter from the front end because the blades dip down low enough to give someone a really nasty hair cut. Just to make it clear, we never actually lifted off the ground during this exercise. It didn't matter though, I've been in a Blackhawk now and that's all that matters.

After that, we did more vehicle training and made sure that everyone was qualified on all the M-series vehicles (deuces, humvees and all their variants). I now know how to drive a stick shift although I definitely wouldn't want to do it in an area with stop and go traffic that I wasn't allowed to run over. While we waited for vehicles to drive, Acosta and I practiced clearing buildings, even clearing a tower. The more I talk to Acosta, the more I enjoy him. He's from Puerto Rico and has been married for almost three months now. Due to his accent, he says normal things in an interesting way and it makes his jokes that much funnier. I'm going to have to make sure I stay in touch with him.

Between vehicle driving we also learned some interesting rules about shooting the enemy. We're only supposed to shoot at the center of mass or the triad which is basically the upper chest. Apparently shooting in the head is considered a "violent way of killing." I'd like to know a non violent way of killing. I don't consider myself a particularly violent person and don't plan on shooting anyone in the face, but one through the heart or one through the head, either way they still end up dead.

23 September 2007 - Sunday

We got to sleep in this morning. I didn't have to get up until 0600. They needed volunteers to refuel the humvees so Varma and I said we'd do it. We went through the "pre-drive inspection" by checking all the fluid levels, tire pressure, etc and then we started it up to move out with the rest of the convoy to the gas depot. When I started it, the gauges powered up and we could clearly see the tank was 7/8ths full. It would almost take more gas to drive to the fuel depot and back than we could put in the tank so I made a command decision and went back to bed.

Nothing significant happened the rest of the morning, but the afternoon involved the Blackhawks. Acosta and I were in the same chalk along with Maruffo, Captain, and Ericson. When the Blackhawks touched down we moved swiftly from the tree line and into the chopper. We strapped in and suddenly plunged vertically in the air about 75 feet. We zipped over the tree line and Acosta pantomimed using a machine gun from the door. The helicopter banked hard left, then hard right, and we ended up flying only 30 feet or so above the ground for most of the exercise except when trees or towers got in the way and had to be flown over.

Senior showed up to talk with us while we waited for the others to use the helicopters. He told us everywhere he's been stationed, which included such interesting assignments like embassy guards and NATO security detail. He also told us about the importance of always having a knife with you and gave anecdotal evidence with a story where he was able to jam his knife through metal.

We learned that we're going on a mission tomorrow and things are expected to get pretty rough. Everybody's checking their gear and loading up on as much ammo as possible. We're trying to get as much done tonight as we can. As I'm writing this, we've just heard an explosion near the gate. Mortars are getting close enough to shake the ground a little and I'm hearing what I'm pretty sure is AK-47 fire, disconcertingly close. Humvees are speeding around base and I heard the distinct sound of a vehicle mounted fifty caliber machine gun returning fire. Acosta and I looked at each other. He knew I would have his back and I knew he would have mine. Varma, having been awakened by the firefight, summed up what we were thinking, "And So It Begins."

24 September 2007 - Monday

We got breakfast early this morning because we were getting briefed on our mission early this morning. Intel had managed to narrow down the location of a pilot and crew that was shot down yesterday to a small village and the surrounding countryside. Our job was to convoy in to the general area, rescue the pilot and crew, treat any wounds they might have, and then convoy back to FOB Victory. Our leadership sketched out a hastily prepared plan that primarily consisted of splitting our convoy into two mini-convoys.

It took me over an hour to write this entry because I keep falling asleep. I'm too tired to write anymore tonight. My whole body aches and the adrenaline rush has left me drained.

25 September 2007 - Tuesday

Today sucked. I woke up with every part of my body aching. Then we loaded up a humvee with a lot more people than could easily fit. Imagine the number of people needed to make a humvee ride crowded and uncomfortable, then add five. We drove like that for forty-five minutes to a specially designated rifle cleaning area. We cleaned rifles for five hours, standing up because of how the work benches were set up. Some of those rifles hadn't been cleaned since they were made. They were spotless by the time we got done with them.

Next on the agenda, they surprised us with a tour of aircraft maintenance facilities. I really appreciate what the guys in maintenance do, but honestly, a tour of a welding area when nothing's being done is boring as hell. They decided to give us a tour of a KC-10 and a C-17. Kemp fell asleep on the KC-10 during the tour as soon as she sat down in one of the passenger seats. Later, on the C-17 tour, I fell asleep in the cargo bay. That was the highlight of my day. Everyone asleep on the C-17 was woken up by an obligatory group "HUA" after one of the maintenance guys said "HUA" at the end of an explanation.

We didn't get lunch until 1600. Everyone was starving so after leaving the flight line, fourdeuce-and-a-half's, fully loaded with starving, battle armor laden lieutenants, stopped at Burger King. It was a sight to see. I'm not sure if a fast food restaurant has ever been invades, but if it ever happens it would look like that.

Of course everyone without money, including me, Acosta, Shannon, and Corrigan sat outside eating good, old fashioned, government issue MREs. Almost no one showed up to chow hall for dinner. I felt bad for the cooks. Acosta and I showed up even though we weren't really hungry. The cooks were always fun to talk to. Some of the officers in charge were there and hinted that tomorrow wouldn't be much more exciting. Such is life.

Back to what happened on Monday: Pilot needed to be rescued... damnit! Lights out already!

26 September 2007 - Wednesday

Today wasn't quite as bad as yesterday, but it definitely wasn't good. For starters, we drove all of our convoy vehicles out to the (no joke) "tactical washing facility." It's where they wash vehicles that were made for a tactical purpose (humvees, etc.) and not to be confused with a way of tactically washing your car. Acosta and I drove one of the deuces. A big deal was made about having to leave the FOB early this morning, and we ended up arriving at the tactical wash facility an hour before it opened. Good thing we left ridiculously early. After we washed the vehicles, we formed up the convoy and started to head out, but Acosta and me bailed out of our vehicle when it caught on fire. Apparently vehicles made before the Korean War can have electrical fires. Then we had another boring tour of Navy ship catapult parts. Notice how I said parts. We didn't actually see a navy ship or even a complete catapult. The bus ride between the various catapult parts packed 64 people on a 44 passenger bus. Cozy!

27 September 2007 - Thursday

We turned in the gear that was issued to us for deployment training. We packed everything into our bags and piled our bags outside the tents. Then all the tents were meticulously cleaned. We waited hours for buses to pick us up. We laid on the bags to sleep and when we got bored we threw rocks at stuff. By the time the bus showed up, there were no rocks left near the tents. There were supposed to be two buses, but there was only one so it was going to make three trips. The first group took forever to get back and we joked that there was surprise IED/convoy training they were going through. When the bus got back, we were in a time crunch so everyone left was going to have to cram on the bus. Now 43 people on a bus with maximum capacity of 44 doesn't sound too bad until you factor in that each of those 43 people has approximately 150lbs of gear with them. That means the back half of the bus is packed with luggage and everyone is crammed three to a seat with the rest sitting in the aisle.

Once at Fort Dix, we had the Commander's Picnic. Grilled chicken and burgers with lots of alcohol. They ran out three times, but they kept sending people out to get more. I played two-hand-touch football, sand volleyball, and horseshoes, all in BDUs. The picnic was held at Man Park on Fort Dix near Club Dix. I suggested they change a few of the names.

Tonight they put us in billeting at McGuire AFB. No more Mr. Bob (the affectionately named port-a-potties at the FOB). Real toilets and more importantly for some people (not me) actual televisions. Some people went to sleep while others watched TV. Acosta and I washed our BDUs and then we walked to a nearby club. We ate lots of greasy food and danced to music that sounded like it came from the "A Night At The Roxbury" soundtrack (while still eating greasy food). I'd like to think the pretty waitress that kept looking over was laughing with us and not at us. I'm confident she enjoyed watching sweet moves performed by handsome gentlemen with mouths full of food and chicken wings in hand.

28 September 2007 - Friday

I might have lost my cell phone. I'm writing this as I'm flying back to Wright Patterson AFB on a C-130 sitting in a chair that folds out of the wall with cargo net backing. Hopefully I put my phone in one of my bags that's been palletized, but I won't be able to check until we unload and de-palletize the cargo.

The bed was comfy last night. It turns out Corrigan had the room next to me so we shared the bathroom in the middle. I have no idea why I just wrote that. No one cares who I shared the bathroom with and people might find it awkward that I even brought it up. Before I went to bed last night, Acosta went to his room and told me that his bed was broken. I joked about what he did to break the bed. I took a look and saw that whoever attached the backboard to the wall had only screwed it to the weak dry wall instead of the studs so as soon as Acosta touched it, it ripped free of the wall.

I have to switch topics for a moment because one of the crew just walked to the back of the C-130, opened a little door, and relieved himself out the side of the aircraft. How quaint.

Back to Acosta. They ended up giving him a different room. It was in a completely different building so we ended up having to lug all 150lbs of his gear almost three quarters of a mile. A bags need wheels and a better way to go up stairs. That's all I have to say about that.

I later found out that the crew member mentioned before actually used a wall side toilet that keeps everything on the aircraft. What was I thinking? Silly Lieutenant.

This morning they gave us each a donut for breakfast. I'm seriously doubting we're going to get lunch. It's past 1300 already. All well, it doesn't matter anymore. I'll be home soon! The plane's starting to land so I think this'll be a good place to stop writing.

Post Phoenix Warrior

Filling in the blanks on 24 September 2007 - Monday

We split the convoy in two and convoy one sped out of the FOB. I was in convoy two. We were preparing to leave when we hit an unexpected snag: "You're all dead." This was news to me. "However, we've decided to reincarnate you as... THE ENEMY!" Becoming the enemy required us to turn our BDUs inside out so we looked distinctly different. In one moment, the game plan had changed completely.

Blackhawks flew in to pick us up. We hugged the ground to avoid radar. The ride was exhilarating. Surely bad guys didn't really have this much fun. We were dropped in a landing zone next to a small town that we had to clear of allied forces before we could set up shop there for our nefarious purposes. This meant we got to kick in doors. I enjoyed that. We followed our MOUT procedures and quickly overwhelmed the surprised allies that didn't expect us so soon or from helicopters.

We captured the injured pilot and placed him in the hotel at the edge of town. Everyone spread throughout the town fortifying it for when the convoy passed through. They were in for a surprise. My fireteam (Charlie) took over the upstairs of the hotel where we'd imprisoned the pilot. It had a commanding view of the town with multiple windows being able to be covered by one person. I sat back in the shadows far away from the windows, but still able to see out. Clifford took the opposite side of the building while Corregan watched the rear and Donald watched the main road through the town with Iames and Emily from another fireteam. The first floor was filled with the rest of their fireteams and whoever was guarding the pilot.

The convoy arrived. They showed up to the edge of town and halted. They weren't going to make this easy. They sent everyone into the tree line along the side of town where I had the best view. I could have taken a few easy shots, but we wanted them to get a lot closer. An allied fireteam ran from the woods while the rest of their squads looked for snipers from the relative safety of the trees. It looked like they were going to try and clear out the clock tower near the hotel and then advance from there. I had a good view of the clock tower and no one in the tower could even see them approaching from that angle. I let them get closer and then BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM. I took out an entire fireteam in a second. They laid on the ground in a line toward the tower. Another allied fireteam was sent for the tower from a different angle. They must have not seen me the first time because this second group was in an even better position for me to reach out and touch them. Two fireteams and still on my first clip of ammo. Not bad. I was feeling pretty good about myself when I heard fire from downstairs. "We're breached! They're in! They're in!" While we were distracted in one sector, they'd managed to sneak a group around back and infiltrate our building. A larger group was amassing in the tree line for what looked to be like simultaneous assaults of buildings along the edge I could see. I hoped my buddies had my back and turned my attention back to the window to save my team mates in the other buildings. I flipped my gun to burst and sprayed into the biggest cluster I could see. I stayed back in the shadows the whole time so no one could get a clear shot at me.

I heard people coming up the stairs behind me. I didn't have a good place to hide once people were inside the hotel. I almost shot, but realized it was the man guarding the downed pilot that had come up the stairs. He was the last one left from downstairs. He'd gagged and hid the pilot and then just barely made it up here. More people coming up the stairs. This was going to be close. The pilot guard swung around and shot into the stairwell. Incredibly, he got everyone that had breached the building. I went to tell Fireteam Leader Clifford that we'd stopped the breach. I turned a corner and saw Clifford's boot sticking out into the hallway. Clifford was down. I looked closer and saw Emily on the floor as well. They must have had a sniper on that window. It looked like I just got promoted.

I shouted to the adjacent building where Captain was set up. Gallegos appeared at the window to let me know they'd send over some ammunition and another person to guard the pilot. We re-supplied and were waiting for the next allied push when the exercise was called to a halt. The instructors critiqued everyone and determined that the main reason the allies suffered such heavy casualties was lack of communication. "Do it again and do it right," was shouted so we all ran off to prepare for another assault on the town.

We set up the same way we had before. If it's not broke don't fix it, right? The allies started attacking the same way! It looked like this was going to be another turkey shoot. Then there was a sudden, coordinated attack on five buildings at once from the tree line side. They might've even taken the clock tower. Emily went to the window to see who had control of the clock tower. BOOM. That answered that question.

The clock tower had a nice view of the hotel windows so we needed it neutralized immediately. Clifford yelled to Gallegos who relayed our situation to Captain. We unloaded on the upper levels of the tower while Captain sent a team to clear it and we stopped firing once they entered the tower base to avoid friendly fire.

With the halt of the allied onslaught, the town settled into a stalemate with neither side wanting to leave their defensive positions. Clifford assessed that we couldn't do much good from our current spot now that we'd stalemated. He decided we needed to take the town back one building at a time and Fireteam Charlie was the team to do it. We went to the ground floor of the hotel and told everyone there what we were going to do.

Maruffo started laying down suppressive fire as we charged out of the hotel and stacked up outside an enemy controlled building. Corregan kicked the door in and with surprise and speed on our side, we quickly took the building. We called out to let Captain know that the building was safe and that we were moving on to the next one (i.e. no friendly fire please). We continued to clear one building after another until we eventually linked up with a group of friendlies that had been surrounded at the opposite edge of town.

We informed Captain of our larger group and that we were going to cross the main street to secure buildings that we weren't sure about. Our now larger assault force made easy work of the stragglers hiding out in the remaining buildings and we took back the town. All the allies had been eradicated. Our victory was complete.

Now it was time for us to be the allies. We walked along a winding footpath from the village for about two miles and then waited while an instructor told us the scenario. We were now the allies and the previous allies we'd repelled from the town were now insurgents that had taken several downed crew members as hostages and were most likely using them as bait to lure us into an ambush.

Captain was the obvious choice to lead since the other squad leaders were a little timid and unsure of themselves. Captain had us form up with Squad One on the left flank and Squad Two on the right flank, both in wedge formation and within seeing distance of the footpath. Squad Five formed up into two columns and walked straight down the footpath, letting the other squads scout ahead first. I thought this was a good strategy. If one of the lead squads was ambushed, the other could flank the enemy and then Squad Five would bolster whoever was getting hit the hardest or vice versa depending on where the ambush came from.

After the impressive victory back in the town, only achieved because Squad Five took the most dangerous tasks, and because the letter E is number five in the alphabet, we've taken to calling Squad Five Easy Company in reference to the Band of Brothers. Fireteam Charlie was at the back of Easy Company so Donald and I had rear security which means that we were looking over our shoulders constantly. At one point, he came over and looked me in the eyes, "If I don't make it, I want you to give a letter to my wife." I looked right back at him, "I'll make sure you can give it to her yourself." Donald was really getting into the exercise.

Not long after, Squad Two started taking fire from the front right of our group. Squad One should have been in perfect position to flank. Where were they? Were they pinned down as well? Captain sent Alpha to see what was going on.

Erickson led the way like always. He was the Alpha Fireteam Leader and he always took point. He's a good leader, always leading from the front. A little too far forward for leadership in my opinion, but a good leader none the less. They returned a short while later. Erickson was wounded. He was stable though, just not in fighting condition. He also let us know what was going on.

Apparently Squad One's leader was paralyzed with indecision so his entire squad had just hunkered down and let Squad Two get chewed up while awaiting his orders. Captain decided to fix that. "Charlie, move up and flank. Eyes open for the downed crew." We connected with Squad One and Clifford unofficially took charge. We started to get everyone moving when we saw a downed crew member. Corregan was well versed in combat life saving so Clifford had him with some members of Squad One go to the rescue.

There was an intersection that we needed to cross to properly flank the enemy so we popped smoke and ran to the woods on the other side. Clifford stayed back to oversee the downed crew member so that left me in charge on the other side of the road. None of Squad One's people were giving orders so I took them under my command. "Form up on a line. You two, cover that ravine. Push up behind those bigger trees. They're falling back!" My line had pushed back their pincer movement and we were turning the tables. The engagement was halted and the enemy fell back to most likely ambush us later. My self confidence in commanding under pressure went up exponentially.

Corregan finished patching up the downed crew member and put him on a makeshift stretcher made from a poncho. While this was happening, Gallegos was firing at enemy stragglers that could still be seen in the distance. They were well out of effective range, but as Gallegos said, "A lucky hit's still a hit." You can't deny his logic and we did have plenty of bodies to strip ammo from so we weren't in danger of running out.

"Twenty minutes to get to the helos. If we're late, we're walking back. I want Easy Company on point. Move!" We ran in wedge formation, going slow enough that we could still engage somewhat accurately. Squad One carried the stretcher while Corregan ran along side to watch the injured crew member.

A half mile to the LZ and shots rang out from our right flank. The stretcher team stopped and crouched down. Corregan tried convincing them to low crawl with the victim but they seemed to think there was too much fire. Gallegos and I ran forward. More fire came from somewhere so I did a Russian role and low crawled behind a tree. I started shooting and Gallegos followed suit. I ran forward and jumped across a big ditch with bushes, firing in mid leap. "Whoa." I'd fired into the bushes on a whim and I was rewarded with two fewer insurgents to encounter later. They were really close, but I shot before they could react and that's all that matters.

The stretcher still hadn't made any progress. "Move up! You're clear." Bravo from Easy Company (Squad Five) took the stretcher and crawled forward until they felt safe enough to get upright with it. Someone spotted another of the downed crew members. He had a stretcher near him. Alpha, the rest of Charlie (excluding me and Donald), and the other Squads pushed the enemy into a retreat. Donald and I took the rear of the stretcher for the second downed crew member.

We only had a couple minutes and still a quarter mile to go. The only clear spot for the helos to land was at the edge of a small village and we didn't have time to make sure it was safe. We heard the choppers coming so we kicked it up a notch. Those birds wouldn't sit there for long once they landed.

Almost there. The Blackhawks landed. Donald asked me to switch sides on the stretcher. BOOM. I was wounded. Damn sniper. Damn Donald for putting me on the side closest to the village. I couldn't carry the stretcher any more. Corregan took my spot on the stretcher team and Clifford helped me to the helicopters.

The droning of the Blackhawks as they lifted off in unison coupled with the image of a toppling port-a-pot caught in the helicopter backlash only added to the surreal nature of it all. I rested my head against the back of my seat as the adrenaline subsided and a tired wariness began to creep in. Squad Five had earned its pay today. We rescued two downed crew members, saved the other squads from disaster numerous times, and managed to constantly get put right in the thick of things. Today we earned the right to be called Easy Company. I reflected on that as the Blackhawks skirted the treetops, flying us into the sunset.