I started my Special Operations career way back in 1981. I was the 5th Special Forces Group Aviation Detachment Commander at Fort Bragg, NC. The failure of Desert One had taken place and there was a surge in Special Operations Aviation. I flew the guys in the Green Berets for about a year and started entertaining the idea of becoming one. That meant having to go to Green Beret School which lasted about five and a half months. And from all the stories, I knew it was not going to be a picnic. So, I started the process. It wasn't easy getting permission to attend. I had to jump over many hurdles ending with an interview by General Joe Lutz, Commander of all Green Berets. He told me, "Captain, I'm going to let you attend, against my better judgement. You have no experience doing this. You're a Military Police Officer and a pilot to boot and I don't think you can hack it. But I'll give you that chance and if you fail, I'm going to kick you out of the Army." I left his office on Cloud 9. Hell, I was going to the prestigious Green Beret School and become an honest to God, Green Beret. What was I thinking........Army Daze was setting in.
I worked my tail off getting ready. I was walking 20 plus miles with a 50 pound ruck, running sub 12 minute miles with LBE and combat boots, reading everything I could get my hands on to include writing op orders, conducting patrols, ambushes and raids and anything else to help me get ready. By the time my school date rolled around I was a lean mean fighting machine. So I thought. On the first day of training we parachuted into Camp MacKall, (Special Forces training area about 30 miles due west of Fort Bragg) went on a 15 mile road march (those are fun), moved into the tar paper shack area (home) and did push-ups, sit-ups and other blistering physical training until I could barely stand up. We did all this in heavy gravel to the point my hands were bruised, bleeding and they hurt so bad I could hardly put them on the ground. The verbal one-way conversations the cadre had for us also took a toll on our mental state. With out a doubt they were trying to weed out the weak, real fast. And it didn't take long. Green Beret candidates were dropping like flies. We lost a fourth of our class the first day. I thought, what the hell have I gotten myself into.....What was I thinking......
There were several things that kept me going those first few days. First, I had never quit at anything my entire life and I wasn't about to start now, second, how could I look at myself in the mirror knowing that I was a quitter and third, the General was going to kick my ass if I didn't make it and I didn't want to let him down.
Green Beret school was absolutely the most physically demanding and mentally challenging thing I have ever done in my entire life and yet the most satisfying when all said and done. It was just getting to the "all said and done" that was the tough part.
We lived on C-Rations (MREs weren't invented yet) the whole time we were in Phase I. It got so cold in December, we had to have the Cadre open up our food because our hands were so cold you couldn't manipulate the P-38 (small can opener) to open the cans. They would form two lines with six cadre on each side. They would open your food for you as you walked between them and you had to have all your food eaten by the time you got to the end of the line. Nothing like stuffing your entire meal in your mouth all at once. Everybody looked like chipmunks until you could choke the food down. No purpose, just another way to break you down in an attempt to get you to quit. It didn't work.
In Special Forces I learned real quick that you had to improvise, adapt and overcome (shoot, move and communicate). On occassion you had to push the envelope to accomplish the mission but you had to do it very carefully. There were and are consequences for going outside the envelope. You must understand those consequences, understand the risk and make that decision. We operated on a different playing field than most people. The risk almost always included the potential for someone getting injured or killed. Most people don't have to deal with that kind of reality. Don't get me wrong, I'm a person of rules because typically rules are there for a reason. When you operate in the fog of war, you must rely on rules, laws, commanders intent and doctrine to accomplish the mission.
During Phase One, I made the conscience decision to break the rules. Breaking these rules and getting caught would mean getting kicked out of Green Beret School. I had an accomplice, a First Lieutenant, he was my Executive Officer on my A-Team. We discussed our plan carefully, understood the risk of being kicked out of school and the potential of getting hurt. We decided our mission was a go. We were going to break out of the compound (climb a ten foot fence with concertina wire on top) and go get some real food. Yep, we were willing to risk it all for a #1 combo from McDonalds. Actually the combo idea had not been invented yet but you know what I mean. We were starving and wanted some real food.
The plan was to wait until everyone was asleep, (go figure) make our bunks look like someone was sleeping in them, (the cadre did bed checks) sneak out of the tar paper shack and move to the furtherest point in the fence away from the center of the compound. We would throw a blanket over the concertina wire, climb over the fence and then head to the airfield base of operations. I knew the airfield was manned and there was a phone we could use inside base ops. Everything went smooth. We climbed the fence and made it with out a scratch and then beatfeeted to the airfield. It took about an hour and a half from the time we left the shack until we hit the door of base ops. The guy in base ops about crapped his pants when we walked in. We looked like crap and I'm sure he thought we were there to kill him. We gave him some cocken bull story and told him we needed to use the phone. I called my bud Dave, told him the situation and in 90 minutes he arrived at the airfield with enough food for 10 people and we ate like kings. I also had him bring about 30 candy bars. We laughted, told stories, ate burgers and drank coke until we couldn't move. When we finished Dave dropped us off close to the compound. There was no way to walk the distance, we didn't have time. We got over the fence and then it took us forever to get the blanket off the wire but we did it. We made it back to our bunks and everything was as we left it. We got one hour of rack time but it didn't matter because we were full of real food. When the team stirred in the morning, I gave everyone two candy bars. It was a great morale boost for them. I told them to not ask where the candy came from and to keep them hidden. I felt great. I had just accomplished my first Special Opertions Mission: Operation Hamburger.....I was happy and then it was back to.........Army Daze.
I worked my tail off getting ready. I was walking 20 plus miles with a 50 pound ruck, running sub 12 minute miles with LBE and combat boots, reading everything I could get my hands on to include writing op orders, conducting patrols, ambushes and raids and anything else to help me get ready. By the time my school date rolled around I was a lean mean fighting machine. So I thought. On the first day of training we parachuted into Camp MacKall, (Special Forces training area about 30 miles due west of Fort Bragg) went on a 15 mile road march (those are fun), moved into the tar paper shack area (home) and did push-ups, sit-ups and other blistering physical training until I could barely stand up. We did all this in heavy gravel to the point my hands were bruised, bleeding and they hurt so bad I could hardly put them on the ground. The verbal one-way conversations the cadre had for us also took a toll on our mental state. With out a doubt they were trying to weed out the weak, real fast. And it didn't take long. Green Beret candidates were dropping like flies. We lost a fourth of our class the first day. I thought, what the hell have I gotten myself into.....What was I thinking......
There were several things that kept me going those first few days. First, I had never quit at anything my entire life and I wasn't about to start now, second, how could I look at myself in the mirror knowing that I was a quitter and third, the General was going to kick my ass if I didn't make it and I didn't want to let him down.
Green Beret school was absolutely the most physically demanding and mentally challenging thing I have ever done in my entire life and yet the most satisfying when all said and done. It was just getting to the "all said and done" that was the tough part.
We lived on C-Rations (MREs weren't invented yet) the whole time we were in Phase I. It got so cold in December, we had to have the Cadre open up our food because our hands were so cold you couldn't manipulate the P-38 (small can opener) to open the cans. They would form two lines with six cadre on each side. They would open your food for you as you walked between them and you had to have all your food eaten by the time you got to the end of the line. Nothing like stuffing your entire meal in your mouth all at once. Everybody looked like chipmunks until you could choke the food down. No purpose, just another way to break you down in an attempt to get you to quit. It didn't work.
In Special Forces I learned real quick that you had to improvise, adapt and overcome (shoot, move and communicate). On occassion you had to push the envelope to accomplish the mission but you had to do it very carefully. There were and are consequences for going outside the envelope. You must understand those consequences, understand the risk and make that decision. We operated on a different playing field than most people. The risk almost always included the potential for someone getting injured or killed. Most people don't have to deal with that kind of reality. Don't get me wrong, I'm a person of rules because typically rules are there for a reason. When you operate in the fog of war, you must rely on rules, laws, commanders intent and doctrine to accomplish the mission.
During Phase One, I made the conscience decision to break the rules. Breaking these rules and getting caught would mean getting kicked out of Green Beret School. I had an accomplice, a First Lieutenant, he was my Executive Officer on my A-Team. We discussed our plan carefully, understood the risk of being kicked out of school and the potential of getting hurt. We decided our mission was a go. We were going to break out of the compound (climb a ten foot fence with concertina wire on top) and go get some real food. Yep, we were willing to risk it all for a #1 combo from McDonalds. Actually the combo idea had not been invented yet but you know what I mean. We were starving and wanted some real food.
The plan was to wait until everyone was asleep, (go figure) make our bunks look like someone was sleeping in them, (the cadre did bed checks) sneak out of the tar paper shack and move to the furtherest point in the fence away from the center of the compound. We would throw a blanket over the concertina wire, climb over the fence and then head to the airfield base of operations. I knew the airfield was manned and there was a phone we could use inside base ops. Everything went smooth. We climbed the fence and made it with out a scratch and then beatfeeted to the airfield. It took about an hour and a half from the time we left the shack until we hit the door of base ops. The guy in base ops about crapped his pants when we walked in. We looked like crap and I'm sure he thought we were there to kill him. We gave him some cocken bull story and told him we needed to use the phone. I called my bud Dave, told him the situation and in 90 minutes he arrived at the airfield with enough food for 10 people and we ate like kings. I also had him bring about 30 candy bars. We laughted, told stories, ate burgers and drank coke until we couldn't move. When we finished Dave dropped us off close to the compound. There was no way to walk the distance, we didn't have time. We got over the fence and then it took us forever to get the blanket off the wire but we did it. We made it back to our bunks and everything was as we left it. We got one hour of rack time but it didn't matter because we were full of real food. When the team stirred in the morning, I gave everyone two candy bars. It was a great morale boost for them. I told them to not ask where the candy came from and to keep them hidden. I felt great. I had just accomplished my first Special Opertions Mission: Operation Hamburger.....I was happy and then it was back to.........Army Daze.
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