Quiet time while on exercises...

A good bit of the time I spent in the Army was centered around desert operations, but the vast majority of it was focused on MP operations in a wooded environment.  In that time following the Vietnam war, I think everyone in the Army doctrine circles was just taking a long breather.  For the next 10-15 years, not much came out of the "schools" partly because the nation as a whole was standing pretty much at arms length from anything military.  And as is the case following all wars, even the wars we are fighting today, the national administration, Republican or Democratic, can't wait to just get away from all that stuff and back to their domestic agenda.  Never mind that there are still bad guys out there who want to do us harm and are just waiting for us to draw down.  They read our history books and know how we operate -- probably better than we do.  And now we are getting ready to be thrown back to Army troop levels not seen since pre-WWII days.  The cycle is completed yet again, and it's back to the trees and foxholes.

So when this picture was taken, we were in heavily into wooded areas, undertaking opns. more closely aligned with the last war than looking over the horizon at the skills and training needed for the next one. And that was a little bit OK as it reinforced our soldier craft and gave us training in these skills that we couldn't get in a drill hall.  And I guess you have to know this stuff in order to build and grow into what is next.

Some of us, at least those in the EPW arena in general, and specifically in our battalion, tried to look down the road and project our capabilities and requirements into what we thought,  what we knew would come next.  We looked at training in urban situations, in built-up areas, not always doing those things outlined in the so-called doctrinal format.  When we could we tried to avoid training in wooded areas where we were forced to concentrate on digging proper foxholes and fighting positions.  This training philosophy didn't always endear us to those high ranking doctrine writers at the MP school. And if you didn't do it every once in a while to get the proper boxes checked, your unit was labeled as unfit for duty and new blood needed to be brought in.  So we played the game, but not always by their rules.

And if the facts are examined carefully, my predecessor and I, as well as succeeding commanders and staffs and certainly the troops who followed all got it.  When it came time for us/them to be thrust into leadership roles in future wars at high level positions in brigades, the Pentagon, deployment training centers, and such, the train-up was not so extensive or painful because some of the lessons and training had already been done.  It was not such a tremendous paradigm shift from tree bark to sand dunes.

This picture brought back some good memories of those times when I was a battalion commander. And I know you have read this before, but the soldiers I served with during that time were the absolute best people.  They cared about what they were doing, were serious about it, professional about it, and very much on the cutting edge.  What a privilege.

One more dance along the razor's edge finished. Almost dead yesterday, maybe dead tomorrow, but alive, gloriously alive, today. (Robert Jordan)

Hooah

Wishin' I were fishin'...

If you are like me, this is the time of year your mail box gets bombarded with fishing catalogs full of all kinds of paraphernalia in all kinds of colors, and trip brochures touting the advantages of booking a trip at this particular lodge or that one.  And while they are fun to look at, they only accentuate the bummed feeling that most Ohioans (and anyone else, for that matter, above the Florida state line) have about now in light of these lingering wind chills and late season snowy forecasts .  It's almost March, for gosh sakes.  The golf pro has sent out emails telling of the opening day on March 1st.  Fat chance of playing on that day with wind chills at -5.  Oh well, at least they will have their indoor hitting range open.  So anyway --- back to the topic of fishing. 

As I was looking thru the picture tubs in the basement, I came across these shots of our first "Bass-n-Bogies" trip.  Chuck, Kevin and I decided that we needed to do a "man trip" back in 2000 so we put this together.  We went on line and looked for a good fishing place that would occupy our time in the mornings and evenings, but also had decent golf courses in the area that would likewise keep us busy in the afternoons.  So we came across a place called Blue Bank Resort at Reelfoot Lake, TN.  The pictures of the place looked real nice (for a fishing lodge) and it was endorsed by fishing legend, Bill Dance.

 These pictures show you the general layout of the place.  I did not shoot the pool or the other areas, but if we ever decide to do this again and take our wives we will point out these amenities. The picture on top-left shows all the boats that they rented out to those who didn't bring their own.  This was a morning shot.  It was pretty cool there as all we had to do was bring our boat back in at night and they gassed it up and got everything else ready for us.  The top-right shot shows the boat tie-up area at night as well as the lodge.  Also, I don't recall taking any pictures of our "cabin" as it was really so small that the three of us could barley fit in it.  That may have been because we were looking for a cheap place.

The other two pictures kinda give you an idea of the water and how really nice this place really was.  We were usually out of the cabin early and fished till noon or so.  Then we played golf and literally finished the day with fishing, coming back to the boat dock well after dark.   I think we had to be back NLT an hour after dark if we wanted the boat serviced for the next day.

We have taken several of these trips but it has pretty much morphed into a golfing only trip now.  Now the man-trip is pretty much old duffers (no pun intended) who really enjoy playing golf.  At least we can all now get the senior discounts at the golf courses and the restaurants (if we eat early enough).

The actual fishing part of it was pretty good.  In fact, this place was the best fishing I have ever had outside of Canada.  Check out these shots:

 I know Chuck caught some fish too, but I don't seem to have any pictures of that taking place.  Hmmmmm.  But I did have this shot...  The caption on the back of the picture says something about "What a life..."

As I said, this was really a good time.  I think we're going to have to do this again sometime, even if it is only Chuck and me.  We actually got to act like we were on a real big-time fishing expedition.  My other brother-in-law, Luke and his buddies actually fly in to some place in Canada and fish .  They have bears in the area and have to put food and fish in containers that are air-tight so the bears don't get into them.  Another of my friends goes with his buddies to Canada and sometimes it is so cold, they say it is more like ice fishing than anything else.  So maybe ours does look more like a "gentlemen's fishing trip" than theirs.  So what.  We had fun and caught fish and got to hit golf balls.  It really doesn't get much better than that. 
This planet is covered with sordid men who demand that he who spends time fishing (and golfing) shall show returns in fish (and pars).  Glad they didn't go with us.

 Hooah

Looking thru some old pix...

They just sit there, the assorted collection of big plastic tubs, safeguarding the pictorial history of our family.  Keeping the collection of newspaper clippings, old photos and even older VHS tapes safe from loss or destruction, they just sit there on top of a couple of old army foot lockers, patiently waiting for someone to come look through the decades of pictures.  And that is just what I did tonight.  I managed to look through the top container and came up with some good pictures and topics for about the next 5 or 6 entries.

This set of shots caught my eye right away.  I was always a big fan of M*A*S*H and, even though I knew this was nowhere near the reality of what happened at a Korean War MASH unit, it was a great series and allowed people to see, maybe, a glimpse of life in that Conflict. 

So anyhow, the story behind these shots was a "Mayberry/M*A*S*H" Days celebration that took place in Bradford, OH back in 2000.  My brother-in-law, Chuck, is all things Mayberry, so when he heard of this gathering, he contacted me and told me of the M*A*S*H part, knowing that I would have to go...especially since the event sponsors had contracted Jamie Farr (Cpl. Klinger) to be there.  There were some Mayberry role players there too, but I don't remember their names.  I did get an autographed picture with Farr.

 

This gathering was spread out over a very large field, and they had several displays set up to give it that military flavor.

I recall having had a pretty good time looking around at all the displays.  During my Army days, when I was a company commander and a battalion commander I had a tent like the one shown above which served as home during ATs, deployments and even some extended weekends.  They weren't too bad and for the most part kept us dry and warm.  In fact, I even came across this old shot of my old Command Sergeant Major coming out of our "Home" heading off to the shower in one exercise in California.

Back to the M*A*S*H event.  The sponsors also had a UH-1 there.  It was in really bad shape and they were trying to raise money to restore it.  I seem to recall that they were somehow tied in with the WACO people in Troy and I believe the helicopter is now housed in Troy at the WACO field on 25-A.

Over my career, I had my fair share of time in these. Nothing dangerous. But even so, once you are in one or see one in the condition this one was, you really recall the history and service of this piece of military history.  This was the workhorse for the entirety of the Vietnam war, and carried the load well after that...up until the Blackhawk took over.  Sitting in this one, looking around inside, wondering what took place in there, I certainly reaffirmed my admiration for the pilots and crews who flew these into all sorts of situations in support of troops.

So with this entry I'll start another series of stories, some from Army, some about golf or fishing, some from my teaching and coaching days, and some about my family.  Some or many of them won't mean anything to you, but  some will be general enough to perhaps spark a memory from your past, giving you something that will take you away from your "here and now" for just a while.  In any event, I will write so my grandsons will know a little more about this old fellow they call "Grandpa."

"Remember that man lives only in the present, in this fleeting instant; all the rest of his life is either past and gone, or not yet revealed." Aurelius

Hooah

Our take on "The Band of Brothers"...

An article from this past September highlighted the reunion that our old MP Battalion had in Columbus.  It was the initial effort at this sort of thing and went very well.  But as can often happen at these things, mingling can only go so far, and conversations can sometimes lag a bit.  So I put together picture boards which featured training events and individual Soldiers.  And although I was hoping these would spark conversations, bring back old memories and serve as icebreakers where needed, I also found out they sometimes better serve to highlight how much more hair we all had back then, and how much thinner and in better shape we all were.  We had some good laughs at these -- especially when we tried to suck in our guts and regain some of our swagger from back then.

The reason I mention this is I had a chance to reexamine some of the pictures and my attention was caught by these two.  I had been watching (actually rewatching for the maybe the 50th time or so) the HBO mini-series, Band of Brothers, and thought about the "guys" in these two shots. 

As an MP EPW Battalion, we would set up a camp and prepare to conduct our mission of processing, housing, safeguarding, etc., etc. enemy prisoners of war.  The only trouble was we seldom had a population of other soldiers to serve as EPWs.  So, in order to get any training benefit out of the exercise, we often had to "volunteer" our own people to serve as the enemy population.  And when we did this, we would turn our uniform top inside out so we looked the part. 

These particular pictures were taken just before surrendering ourselves to the guards who would process us and take care of us for a few days.

Pretty dangerous looking bunch of desperadoes.

Then PFC Boatwright (l) was looking over this group of "troublemakers and warning us of the consequences of any misbehavior in the camp."  You can see how much we were paying attention to his orientation. 

Being a prisoner was not the most exciting part of our job.  Nobody really wanted to do it but it certainly was necessary because this same training which took place at Ft. McCoy, hot, nasty, and dirty as it was prepared these Soldiers (both the "prisoners" and the guards) for the trials they would have when they were later deployed three and four times to Iraq and Afghanistan.  The leadership lessons that were sometimes learned the hard way, the creativity and initiative that was fostered as well as the endurance and discipline that was taught paid huge dividends when they were actually called to do their thing.

These Soldiers really were professionals.  It was an extreme pleasure to have had the opportunity to serve with them and it was even more rewarding to see them at the reunion, knowing that they all came through their "whatevers" and could share their experiences.  We had some good laughs and I expect we will have even more and greater ones the next time we get together.

You don't always know how the hand you were dealt will play out, and you can't always control all the variables that influence the final outcome.  But you can make the most of the friendships you establish along the way.  You can make the best of tough situations, because they will be the stuff memories are based on later in life.  And as  you recall these memories later in life, a time when some of the edges are a little ragged and details aren't quite as clear, at least you will have the faces and situations to take with you.  And as Major Dick Winters said in the movie, "I was not a hero, but served in the company of heroes."

Life must be lived forwards, but can only really be understood backwards. (Attributed to S. Kierkegaard)

Hooah

First introduction to sights and smells of the desert...

A couple of weeks ago, I took a group of Vets from our VFW to the Wright Patterson Air Force Museum just as a day-trip.  It was a good trip and they got to see a lot of things.  More importantly it got them out of the house on a cold winter afternoon and gave them something to do.  But now we'll have to schedule another trip to go back some time because there is just too much to see and you can't really get it all in in one day. 

I have been down there many times, and thought I had seen all or most of it.  Wrong. I found a new area where I had never been yet.  It was a display featuring the Air Force during the Korean War,  and the most interesting part for me was the tent area they had set up.  Amazingly similar to the display at the Warner Robins museum I had seen in November,  the one thing that hit me right away, in both places, was the smell of canvas. There are two things that instantly take me back to Army days -- the smell of canvass and the smell of mold.  So when I returned home from the trip, I began looking around again for old Army pictures and I just happened to come upon these.  Just kinda thinking of the old days.

This was a deployment back in 1985 to Egypt to participate in a exercise called Bright Star, an ongoing joint training exercise between US and Egyptian forces.  This particular exercise had been going on for a few years, alternating deployments between Egypt and the NTC in SW United States.  I also think it went on for a few more years after our participation, but this was the one and only time I took troops to the Egyptian desert.  Little did I know I would return to deserts again on down the road.

During this exercise, we performed physical security MP duties, something our Company had done for quite a while, dating back to its WWII days I think.  Anyone who knows anything about MPs knows that there is a great deal of "spit and polish" associated with their duties and appearance.  MPs are known for pressed, if not starched, uniforms, highly shined boots, and a clean appearance...at least in a garrison environment.  In the field, some accommodations are made, but they still stand out in a crowd of soldiers.  And that was the first conflict we had -- it was hard to maintain uniform appearance in the desert.  We tried.  We ironed uniforms when we could and tried to keep all equipment and facilities in top order.  After all, we were working at a four-star HQ, so we had to look like we belonged to him.

 So what is the tie-in between the Wright Patt. trip and this blog entry?  Well, it was the thoughts of my "home" in the middle of the desert outside Cairo that just popped up when I smelled the tent at the museum.  As tents go, this wasn't that bad.  In fact it would have been a great tent  --- in a forest!!  We had big windows in the sides of the tent as you can see below, but they were only good for letting in lots of sand and heat.  The sun baked the roof and sides of the tent and generated that unmistakable smell of Army canvass tents that soldiers never forget.  There is supposed to be a tent liner or a cover which goes over the top of the tent and these are supposed to provide some measure of cooling.  Guess whose unit didn't have these items??!! 

So we all lived in a tent city, and this was my house.  I know, "location, location, location" is the catch phrase of all real estate agents, but the one who assigned this one to me had a patch over one eye and didn't speak English very well,  Oh well, it was a place to sleep.  Notice the laundry out on the line.

This was a pretty barren place.  These pictures of the rest of the area were taken when we were leaving. We were instructed to take everything out there and leave only sand.  The liaison guy said that the local Egyptians would take the big cardboard packing crates shown in the background and use them as "houses." 

The picture above was taken just after we had packed all of our "stuff" and were ready to saddle up for our trip home.  The picture below was taken at our formation just before leaving the tent city area enroute to the airport for a long trip home.

As I said earlier, this was my first time in this kind of environment, and the first time for all of these troops too.  But as things go in the Army, it wouldn't be the last.  Although our paths took many different twists after this assignment, I think the vast majority of these troops (say 20 to 25 of the ones shown above) also saw duties in Desert Storm, Iraq or Afghanistan at least once and some more than once.  Some also served in Bosnia and in Central America.  MPs get around.  These troops were really good people.  They trained hard, and were a source of pride when we deployed for missions like these.  They were professionals, and generally received high accolades wherever we served.  I saw some of them at our reunion this past fall, but some of them are now gone.  Unfortunately,  I don't remember all their names now; 29 years have clouded my memory a bit.  But I do remember some of them, and I remember how each of them served as well as they could, and how each of them taught me something -- something I more than likely used somewhere on down the road.

So as you can easily tell (and I have been reminded by some who read this blog), I have been focused a bit too much this winter on watching the snow fall and the birds flying around.  I've ignored the old Army days.  But, I think I will have to get back into this and some of the other topics for the blog.  Right now I'm sitting behind a large pile of old Army photos and I'm making a list of future topics.  So stay tuned -- I'll start cranking them out.  I want to get more of them done before golf season comes and I really become a slacker about writing.

Sometimes people come into your life and you know right away that they were meant to be there...to serve some sort of purpose, teach you a lesson or help figure out who you are or who you want to become.  (Anon.)


Hooah