Yum Yum Get Some!

Ft Lewis, WA

The days continue to be an amorphous continuum of gaggle-marching to an asbestos-era ramshackle training portable followed by a visit to the DFAC (The Dining Facility), with some "PT" at the gym mixed in for good measure.  On occasion we'll do something memorable, but truly, I can't recall distinctly one day from the next.  One of the more memorable days this week was when we went to the 50 cal and M240 and M249 machine gun (very real) simulator.  This was similar to the M16 simulator with a few exceptions.  We were instructed not to hold down the triggers for continuous bursts of fire as that wastes rounds.  One is supposed to have a 6 to 9 round burst and to facilitate this you are encouraged to yell out something that lasts, well, for 6 to 9 rounds.  The only repeatable saying in a PG rated format is "Yum Yum Get Some!"  Evidently I missed my true calling as a machine gunner as I was quite proficient in "killing" the digital targets with minimal bursts of rounds.  I only expended 64 rounds for 10 targets placed at various distances, which was about half of the next most efficient shooter.  Essentially I was only "Yum Yumming" and still "getting some."

"Dominoes, this is Fort Lewis, Over!"


Today was packed: we started off in "Commo" class, in which we learned the various communications gear.  It turned into a 6 hour lesson in button-mashing various battle hardened and encrypted CB radios. That's a short sell actually, as some were satellite UHF radios.  Nonetheless, we basically mashed multiple buttons in a never-to-be-remembered order to load the crypto and put various frequencies into the dull green boxes.  It was torture, and totally unnecessary.

After the six hours of Commo training we did something which is probably very useful - Humvee evacuation simulations.  First we learned all about it in class, to include actual videos of Humvees surviving an IED blast, as well as gory stories (i.e. warnings if you don't pay attention) of Humvees that had turned over in water and in which the passengers could not egress.  Horrible way to go.

We then went to the other side of base where the simulators were.  Big Humvees without wheels on hydraulic spits that could be turned very rapidly 360 degrees, leaving the strapped in occupants upside down.  There was also foam "detritus" placed in the Humvee to simulate "missile hazards", e.g. a foam CO2 extinguisher and foam gatorade bottles, etc.  These of course bounced all over your head and body while you rolled like shake and bake.  We also had to hold onto our weapons while this was happening.  Once the vehicle-on-a-spit stopped rolling we would egress as best we could, hanging upside down, and then set up a defensive perimeter.  It was pretty fun all in all.  We were told that this would be the only time we'd have fun doing this because in the real world we'd be really hating it.  A plus for accuracy there.

One Day Pass!

Ft Lewis

One of the things that can be hard to swallow is the requirement for our group to remain on post.  Our daily wandering encompasses about a 500 yard radius, the gym being our DMZ for the most part.  I'm not exactly sure where this "remain on post" dictate comes from (I believe it is part of the General Order Number One that we were placed under on day one, which also includes no consumption of alcohol, no hanky panky, no personal firearms, no numchukkas, and so on.  True story.)  There are other pre-deployment training sites run by the Navy on Marine Corps bases that allow for night and weekend "liberty," i.e. you're free to go home, to the movies, to the CVS to buy Funyuns, whatever.

We petitioned our military seniors, the folks at the Navy Expeditionary Combat Readiness Center, for a one-day pass off base.  We had already turned in our weapons to the armory on Superbowl Sunday as we do not need them this week -- important because otherwise we would have to post a watch here on base to for them.  You cannot leave weapons unattended!  We were granted the pass and essentially were let out of "time out" for a whole glorious day.  We mounted up the vans for Seattle, about 30 of us (we are staggering the days off).  Even though we've only been here two weeks I had the image of Jack Nicholson leading the inmates out of the asylum in One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest.


We definitely made the most of our time.  We actually went to the little computer lab/library and contacted Seattle based friends to do research.  We did the usual Seattle things - Pike Place Market, the Curio Shop with its dessicated mummies, the Seattle Aquarium (Giant Octupi!), and of course the original Starbucks.  We did some unique things as well.  We walked from the center of town to a funky outskirt - actually this needs clarifying:  Seattle in general has a funky vibe to it.  I know I am not the first one to say this, but it merits repeating.  After yesterday's whirlwind tour I can honestly say that Seattle is right in the thick of it in the pantheon of America's most unique and interesting cities.  Others include (my opinion of course) New Orleans, San Fran, NYC, Chicago and Baltimore, among others.  I am sure Austin is in there too, but I haven't been there yet.  Anyway, we made it to a Cajun restaurant in the neighborhood past the Needle and I enjoyed my first pomegranate mojito.  We split off into groups after that and I spelunked the weird stores before we met up at the aquarium (favorite: Fancy Schmancey toy store that had zombie dolls and other odd things more consistent with an adult population that is reluctant to let go of childhood.  Most of Seattle has a similar feeling to it.)

I had to get a coffee there in Seattle but I first had to get over the uncomfortable feeling of "ordering wrong."  There is a scene in the movie Singles from a generation ago during the peak of grunge in which a newbie orders coffee wrong in Seattle.  Something about a double-tall-skinny something or other.  When I do order coffee at home, as an act of civil disobedience I always say "Large" or "Medium."  So when I sallied up the the barrista at Cafe Ladro (recommended by the nice woman in Fancy Schmancey) of course I ordered something that caused the retro-dressed barrista to roll his eyes.  Who knew a macchiato could be so controversial?!  In any event, he gave me his local special and my coffee receptors are still snapping and popping as I write.

Today we segued from the freedom of Seattle to the hard-to-get-more-militaristic Combat Skills/Hand-to-Hand combat portion of our training.  We started off this morning by doing various stretches, push-ups, etc., then transitioned to weird and difficult drills whereby one person would lay below another, hands around the neck and legs around the torso, and crab walk back and forth across the mat.  We looked like a squad of people imitating Saturday Nite Live's Ambiguously Gay Duo.

We then learned the basics of one on one combat, various aggressive postures, escape maneuvers, and choke holds.  One thing is for sure: the words "choke" and "carotid artery" don't go well together in the same sentence.  Best quote I heard all day was "Yesterday we were enjoying margaritas and espresso's with mountain views in Seattle, today I have a nurse kneeing me in the groin."  Well said, but the trip to Seattle was worth it.

Sign of the Times

Enough Said.












- Sign seen at the entrance to Ft Lewis, in response to soldiers returning from deployment with PTSD.

White Space

Ft Lewis, WA

While at our first leg of our trip in Norfolk, VA we had been warned about tracts of empty time in our follow-on Army commands.  The Army always trains as a unit; in the past, the units (e.g. platoons and so forth) would be assigned to a color.  The schedule for the larger unit would be placed on a large white board.  When your unit had nothing assigned you ended up with "white space," i.e. down time.

Last week we went to the small arms range to do individual quals on the 9mm pistol.  Our roughly 60 person group was finished by noon.  But we had to also qualify in nighttime shooting, which began at 5pm.  We were the recipients of 5 hours of white space.  I can assure you there is not much to do on a remote shooting range surrounded by forests and roads that go to nowhere.  In all honesty we had been told to bring books or something else to occupy the time, but after the M16 range experience in which we were essentially soaked or muddy through and through, I balked.  Also, I didn't want something encumbering me when I got into my stance to shoot for qual.

Today is Superbowl Sunday and we had nothing scheduled.  Many went to church services this morning.  We then turned our weapons in because we have a lot of white space this week.  In fact, our next evolution is Tuesday evening, then followed by Thursday day.  White space is frustrating for a variety of reasons: it adds time to our deployments for one.  Our 34 day stay here in Ft Lewis is accomplished in 18 days in the Navy run course at Ft Jackson, SC.  That is 16 days less one would stay downrange, 16 days one could spend with one's family.  On top of that one must realize that the group I am with is comprised of trauma surgeons, critical care doctors and nurses, and other high-tempo occupations.  These people tend to be "Type A" personality people.  It is anathema to sit around waiting for several days for ... the next evolution.

(As an aside, we got to watch the superbowl in a warehouse where the ECRC (Expeditionary Combat Readiness Center) liaison is housed.  The officers bought pizza and sodas for all hands and we got to see the Saints beat the Colts - WhoDat!).

One good thing about white space is that I have gotten to know my peers pretty well.  This is a very talented bunch of people of very high quality.  Our group seems hand picked by my estimation.  Our commanding officer, Fred, is a former Marine infantry officer and current orthopedic surgeon based out of Camp Pendleton, CA.  I was assigned the executive officer mainly based on my new rank of Commander - I am a former line officer as well, a Surface Warfare Officer - in my previous life.  We also have a former Navy SEAL who is doing a burn fellowship at Brooke Army Hospital in TX, Chris.   I knew Chris from his time at Bethesda Naval Hospital when he was a surgical resident and I was a critical care fellow.  Joe sleeps in the bunk adjacent to mine - he is a general surgeon, trained at Cornell and has recently done 3 months of volunteer work as a surgeon in Uganda.  We have an anesthesiologist from Camp Pendleton, Tom; an internist from Pensacola, several critical care nurses, a psychiatrist, and many others, too many to mention.  We have 70 or so Navy folks and 70-ish Air Force here (most of them are going to Iraq).  The Air Force mission is communications and other secret stuff that they can't tell me much about.  Interestingly, they have a scientist-mathematician in their group.  I can guess what they are up to from my background in Intelligence.

In getting to know my peers I have found out that a handful have new first babies at home or about to be born.  These guys - understandably - tend to be the most frustrated with the copious white space because they'd rather be at home seeing that first smile, or at home supporting their wives with the upcoming delivery.  Makes sense!

During white space time one tries to come up with interesting ways to kill time.  While at the 9mm range I wandered around the range site and marveled at the fauna, very different than the mid-Atlantic up here in the Pacific NW.  The continuous wetness here generates lichen like you wouldn't believe, as well as moss and other furry green stuff.  In my gloved hand above I am holding a lichen ball.  But you can only stare at lichenous substance for so long before you get frustrated that you are just wasting freakin' time.

I will throw in a variety of photos in this post:


Inside the classroom - Land Navigation

Road leading to the barracks

Inside our bunkroom






























                                              Land Nav - out on the range

White Space

White Space

Culture Shock!

Ft Lewis, WA

I knew I was in for 'something a little different' when as we drove towards our new barracks (nicknamed: "the city of Compton") and I saw the sign for the Shopette on the same space as the sign for the Tactical Shop.  I suppose it is perfectly normal to be able to buy tactical accoutrements (sharp knives, gun holsters, machete-like scary things) 15 feet away from your favorite Nabisco products, only not in the world I just came from.  Culture shock.

I arrived last Sunday night, 5 days ago, and by now what feels like an eternity.  We were bused from the Seattle-Tacoma airport to our barrack city, arriving by about 10:30 pm.  At 11p I heard the most sorrowful version of Taps, played throughout the vast base, I had ever heard.  Plaintive is a better word.

Early the next day, well before light, I met some of my new colleagues and we headed for the DFAC (the dining facility).  The food here is good albeit heavy.  We get two hot meals per day - for example breakfast is eggs, omelets, gravy over biscuits, fruits, cereal, and so on.  You cannot accuse the Army of not feeding their troops well.  For lunch we get an MRE - "meal ready to eat" (alternatively: "meal rejected by everyone"  - but they're really not that bad.)  More on the MRE later.

Monday we were issued our second seabag full o' goodies - foul weather gear for warm and cold weather, helmets, kevlar vest, gloves, cool Oakley-like ballistic glasses.  LOTS of stuff.  We were also issued our weapons - one M16 rifle and one Beretta M9 service revolver.  We rode in cattle cars to get to the drab warehouses that hold all this STUFF.  No kidding - they are like semi's with longitudinal seating in the cattle car part.  Subsequently you have no idea where you are going, you just get dropped off at some warehouse that looks like it's right out of the X-Files set.  Except no Scully and Mulder, just many women, all Asian for some reason, handing you endless amounts of STUFF.

The days are becoming a blur: between Monday and yesterday we received hours of classroom training on the M16 and M9.  The coolest part of the training, other than shooting the weapons themselves, was a sophisticated video game-like simulator which allowed a group to shoot at a target and it would simulate the recoil of the weapon, the sound, and where the round was placed on the realistic target.  Very helpful for when you get on the range as you could get all the mechanics down on firing and reloading the weapon before you got to the range.

I believe it was Wednesday when we went to the M16 range.  It was cold and rainy and fairly miserable.  We had all our gear on - flak jackets, helmets, ballistic glasses, gas masks, ALL of it.  First we spent a few hours zeroing our weapons, i.e. making changes to our sites in order to correct our lines of fire.  This entailed getting into the prone position and shooting repeatedly at an object the size of a pack of gum set 25 meters away.  The range safety officers were responsible for about 4 of us at a time and would recommend changes to our sites after we shot a few rounds.  "You don't look comfortable to me," said my safety officer when I shot -- poorly at first -- my first few rounds.  I thought to myself, "I am laying in a muddy gravel pit with a few inches of cold water filling it, it's raining outside, I am wearing 50 lb of gear, and I suck at this.  How could anyone be comfortable in this setting?"  I did not share my sentiment with him, which seemed to be the right thing to do.  I tried to look more comfortable for him.

We finished up the day by shooting on the actual range, at pop-up targets placed between 50 to 300 meters.  I could barely see the 300 m targets.   We stayed until well after dark because we had to do nighttime qualifying rounds using tracers bullets.  THAT was cool.

The next day was much better - we shot the M9 pistol at a smaller range.  Similar set up - to qualify you had to shoot at pop-up targets.  One of the skills was to be walking towards the target in the shooting  position (arms extended with your weapon, knees bent, legs moving briskly) - a target would pop up and you'd have about 2 seconds to stop and engage.  The instructors were awesome - patient, funny at times but always deadly serious when folks were actually shooting.  This has been the best evolution so far.

Today we had to do something called ISOPREP.  I am not sure what it stands for but it sounds like something you have to drink before a colonoscopy.  It is  strange and a bit unnerving requirement which gathers particular information only you know about yourself, in case you are captured.  This is to authenticate your identity if and when the Defense Department figures out that you are captured, and hopefully rescued ("Did we get the right guy? Let's check the tattoos and scars he said he had in the ISOPREP!").  Weird, and hopefully unnecessary.

We have many more weeks left of these fairly eclectic requirements.  Some are useful, others clearly not.   We do get some language training and cultural awareness training.  More on that later.