One of the most exciting things about having this blog is sitting at the keyboard having stories just explode out of my memory. My fingers get glued to the keys, stuck there like I'm being electrocuted or like little kids' tongues when they fall for the old tongue on the frozen pipe dare.
Well, anyone who knows of the weird weather we in Ohio have also knows that occasionally, out of nowhere, a huge clap of thunder will come rumbling out of the west and roll across the fields bouncing walls and rattling windows. It was just such an occurrence the other night that sent my dog running for cover and reminded me of a story involving my former Command Sergeant Major (Dave) and a former Battalion Commander (Bart).
I was the battalion XO (Executive Officer) at the time and the battalion was conducting exercises at Ft. McCoy, WI. Our troops were spread all over the post with unit T.O.C.s (Tactical Operations Centers) located some 30 miles apart -- as the crow flies. The trouble is, the Army doesn't own any crows, so we have to do things the hard way. Also at that time we had radios that wouldn't reach that far because of the forests and mountains, so we would drive our old 1/4-ton vehicles (the old Jeeps) from camp to camp. This was OK in the daytime, but at night we had to drive in blackout conditions -- i.e. without any lights on (post policy -- good training, huh) -- if we needed to talk to someone at the other camp.
Well, it seems the CSM and the BC decided they wanted to visit the north camp. They got started out OK -- it was daylight. However, they overstayed their welcome (that's what subordinate unit commanders always say) and had to drive home in the dark.
That shouldn't be too hard. The CSM had told us numerous times he knew every tree and blade of grass on that post and the BC had the map, so what could go wrong. As long as they stayed on the roads (the big trails with gravel on them), they would be OK...eventually. Now, I really wasn't too worried (as I was next in command -- PROMOTION) but I didn't have anything else to do so I sat around the tent listening to the radio traffic -- just in case.
Even though we had not heard anything from the two of them, nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. After all, they could have just been practicing good commo discipline. However, about 2330 hrs. or so, I started to wonder if they were coming back . The Army frowns on losing commanders and CSMs, so I had the radio operator start trying to raise them. After a while we were actually able to talk to them and inquired about their location. They tried to give us some sort of cryptic numbers, none of which matched any map we had in the TOC. After some banter back and forth, the CSM came back and said they were "Lima, Oscar, Sierra, Tango." That's LOST in case you missed it. Well, after the assembled cast of TOCsters was able to regain composure (it's bad form to transmit on the radio with roaring laughter in the background), we decided to see if we could help them find their way home. Apparently there weren't any "trees or blades of grass" the CSM recognized.
Oh, did I tell you -- there just happens to be an old minefield/artillery impact zone right in the middle of the ranges. Yep -- you guessed it -- that's where they were!!! Holy smokes (well, maybe that's not a good descriptor when dealing with an impact area)!! How will we get them out of there. Eventually we were able to talk them out of the impact zone and back to the south camp. Needless to say, they had a hard time living that down, and we've had many a good laugh about that over the years.
Both of these gentlemen went on to long, distinguished and highly decorated careers, and were two of the best soldier role models the young troops in our battalions and companies could have had. They are both great human beings too.
"No arsenal, or no weapon in the arsenals of the world, is as formidable as the will and moral courage of free men and women." (Ronald Reagan)
Hooah
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