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Different things to think about and talk about. I’ll tackle them a few at a time over the next several days.
So, I just got back from Fort Bragg, where a bunch of us did training prep for a couple of units getting ready to deploy to Afghanistan. We spent a day setting up, then three solid days doing village scenarios. Some of those were scripted, some we did on the fly, with evaluations and personal advice at the end of each day (when we didn’t do them at the end of each scenario). We messed with those people in every way we could think of, doing our damnedest to see that they made all their mistakes right there, instead of in less forgiving circumstances.
Oh, yeah, there were mistakes. Most of the crews were simultaneously too aggressive and too loose in their security (it is, indeed, possible to be both at once). Several of the squad leaders promised too much to the ‘village chief’, or were sufficiently ambiguous in their statements that promises could by inferred. Muzzle awareness came up a time or two (do not point your weapon toward anyone you’re not prepared to kill, or anything you’re not willing to perforate). In the ambush scenarios, too few of them got the hell out of the area fast enough, and some came perilously close to running off and leaving their comrades in the second truck (the observer-controllers routinely called a downed-driver drill, making it necessary for them to yank a ‘wounded’ driver out of the seat and take his place, on the run). One team actually had a man kidnapped during an ambush retreat.
Those were the things I witnessed. In others, I was directly involved. One squad leader was doing great, saying the right things and taking the perfect tone … but at the beginning he kept his right hand on his weapon, and offered his left hand to shake. (For anyone who doesn’t already know: in the Middle East - particularly in rural areas - the left is the arse-wiping hand, and justifiably considered unclean.) Another team offered the ‘police chief’ an MRE as an opening gift to smooth negotiations … and, of course, didn’t check the labels and gave him the pork barbecue.
Lord, was I ever that green? I must have been, but all the stuff I was seeing seems so obvious now. Nearly all the role players had already been to Iraq or Afghanistan (many of us to both places), and I suppose some things became habit without my realizing it.
I certainly hope that’s the case, because we have the word: my unit is going back to Iraq next year. Plenty of time for us to train up, as a company and individually, but you always wonder if ANY amount of preparation is enough.
(Yes, I’m going to further NCO training in February. Then I’m going to Germany for combat lanes training in March. And there is a possibility - with some obstacles, but perhaps not insurmountable - for me to go to language refresher training in Persian Farsi, entirely separate from my continuing desire to study Arabic at the Defense Language Institute. All of which is on top of the regular schedule of unit training. I don’t know about the rest of the year, but the first three to five months will be quite active for me.)
As it happens, the pre-deployment prep we provided wasn’t the only thing that happened. The first night we were there, before the training scenarios began, we had an incident at a local restaurant, and one of our guys - a two-deployment veteran, former Airborne, a detachment NCOIC - was suddenly removed from duty, diagnosed with PTSD, and voluntarily chose to leave the unit. It was sudden and unnerving, and I checked afterward to be sure it was voluntary. It was, he was ready to give it up and become a full-time civilian, but the whole experience was sobering all the same. I’ve never been aware of any residual effects from Afghanistan or Iraq; I occasionally dream of being back in-theater, but in my dreams it’s always voluntary, and usually I’m excited. It makes me wonder who else may be dealing with problems that haven’t touched me, and of which I’m totally unaware.
Even if it goes no farther than that, the single incident will necessitate some reshuffling. There are people in the unit who have rank out of proportion to their actual ability (the two who immediately spring to mind would admit as much of themselves), and responsibilities that stretch perhaps a bit farther than we currently have people to cover. We’re sufficiently manned, but it takes time to build a core of experience, and some of those who provided it in the past have moved on.
Again, we have time to prepare. Which is good, because there’s plenty to be done.
More as events continue.
Different things to think about and talk about. I’ll tackle them a few at a time over the next several days.
So, I just got back from Fort Bragg, where a bunch of us did training prep for a couple of units getting ready to deploy to Afghanistan. We spent a day setting up, then three solid days doing village scenarios. Some of those were scripted, some we did on the fly, with evaluations and personal advice at the end of each day (when we didn’t do them at the end of each scenario). We messed with those people in every way we could think of, doing our damnedest to see that they made all their mistakes right there, instead of in less forgiving circumstances.
Oh, yeah, there were mistakes. Most of the crews were simultaneously too aggressive and too loose in their security (it is, indeed, possible to be both at once). Several of the squad leaders promised too much to the ‘village chief’, or were sufficiently ambiguous in their statements that promises could by inferred. Muzzle awareness came up a time or two (do not point your weapon toward anyone you’re not prepared to kill, or anything you’re not willing to perforate). In the ambush scenarios, too few of them got the hell out of the area fast enough, and some came perilously close to running off and leaving their comrades in the second truck (the observer-controllers routinely called a downed-driver drill, making it necessary for them to yank a ‘wounded’ driver out of the seat and take his place, on the run). One team actually had a man kidnapped during an ambush retreat.
Those were the things I witnessed. In others, I was directly involved. One squad leader was doing great, saying the right things and taking the perfect tone … but at the beginning he kept his right hand on his weapon, and offered his left hand to shake. (For anyone who doesn’t already know: in the Middle East - particularly in rural areas - the left is the arse-wiping hand, and justifiably considered unclean.) Another team offered the ‘police chief’ an MRE as an opening gift to smooth negotiations … and, of course, didn’t check the labels and gave him the pork barbecue.
Lord, was I ever that green? I must have been, but all the stuff I was seeing seems so obvious now. Nearly all the role players had already been to Iraq or Afghanistan (many of us to both places), and I suppose some things became habit without my realizing it.
I certainly hope that’s the case, because we have the word: my unit is going back to Iraq next year. Plenty of time for us to train up, as a company and individually, but you always wonder if ANY amount of preparation is enough.
(Yes, I’m going to further NCO training in February. Then I’m going to Germany for combat lanes training in March. And there is a possibility - with some obstacles, but perhaps not insurmountable - for me to go to language refresher training in Persian Farsi, entirely separate from my continuing desire to study Arabic at the Defense Language Institute. All of which is on top of the regular schedule of unit training. I don’t know about the rest of the year, but the first three to five months will be quite active for me.)
As it happens, the pre-deployment prep we provided wasn’t the only thing that happened. The first night we were there, before the training scenarios began, we had an incident at a local restaurant, and one of our guys - a two-deployment veteran, former Airborne, a detachment NCOIC - was suddenly removed from duty, diagnosed with PTSD, and voluntarily chose to leave the unit. It was sudden and unnerving, and I checked afterward to be sure it was voluntary. It was, he was ready to give it up and become a full-time civilian, but the whole experience was sobering all the same. I’ve never been aware of any residual effects from Afghanistan or Iraq; I occasionally dream of being back in-theater, but in my dreams it’s always voluntary, and usually I’m excited. It makes me wonder who else may be dealing with problems that haven’t touched me, and of which I’m totally unaware.
Even if it goes no farther than that, the single incident will necessitate some reshuffling. There are people in the unit who have rank out of proportion to their actual ability (the two who immediately spring to mind would admit as much of themselves), and responsibilities that stretch perhaps a bit farther than we currently have people to cover. We’re sufficiently manned, but it takes time to build a core of experience, and some of those who provided it in the past have moved on.
Again, we have time to prepare. Which is good, because there’s plenty to be done.
More as events continue.