The yellow school bus
moved us from the zero range to the qual range.
Everyone would qualify, both here and tomorrow with pistols, but at this
point in time no one knew that. The view
below is without the telephoto lens so that the viewer might appreciate the 300
meter distance. A head-and-shoulders
target, a rifle without a scope, and only six seconds to find your aim.
There are closer
head-and-shoulders targets too – they pop up from behind any of those little
hills – but you only get three seconds for those.
This is a telephoto view
of the distant targets.
Its cool with him – SSG
Flythe says this is the part of army life he likes best.
Note to al Queda: This is what our computer operators look
like. You should see our front-line
guys.
For every trigger-pull,
someone must press a cartridge into a magazine.
In this case, SSG Fisk.
Then they marched us out
to the firing stations.
And then they let us
shoot.
And shoot.
And shoot.
The overall score was all that
mattered, but we were required to shoot from three positions: Prone-supported (the barrel resting on
something), prone-unsupported and the new one as SFC Gaughan does below. It was a windy day. Wind did not affect the flight of the bullet,
but it did rock the shooters.
If the goal of rifle
training is to meld soldier and weapon into one, the photo below could be a
model. SSG Turner even looks like his
M-16.
Later the SSG would be
walking from the showers between the rows of bunks. SFC Linares began, “I’m gonna take you home
for a week. My wife gonna feed you some
rice and beans. We gonna put some meat
on those bones. You gonna like her rice
and beans…”
There were weapons and
ammo all around but I never worried. The
discipline of the soldiers was exceeded only by the discipline for the
Rangemaster MSG Schmitt.
The Rangemaster allowed me
to shoot for which I thank him. My
thanks to SGT Flores and SGT Fonnemann for dressing me suitably in vest and
Kevlar.
And thanks to SSG Hathaway
for cooking my lunch. (Flores and
Hathaway are just back from
Robin picked-out an MRE
for me. I believe it was menu 14: Penne with vegetarian sausage in spicy tomato
sauce and pound cake. Also, dried cranberries
(“Craisins”) which was appropriate because
(Cranberries grow on short
vines that lie on the ground. They are
harvested by flooding the field and gently combing the vines underwater. The berries float so they can be captured
like an oil spill. They call it a wet
harvest.)
Also, two 6” square
crackers and a tube of peanut butter and a tube of jelly. After I returned and retrieved grandson Kevin
from kindergarten, he was hungry as usual.
He was excited to have real army peanut butter and jelly crackers.
Also, beverage base,
powder, orange, type II, fortification D which I am saving for a special treat
for Kevin.
If you cook-up a lot of
these, you can go about it very deliberately.
It was my first time, so I was fortunate to have SSG Hathaway, to do it
for me. He put the sealed entrée package
in a plastic bag with a dry chemical. He
added a precise amount of water and folded the bag closed. He inserted the folded bag in a cardboard box
to hold it closed and to insulate it.
The exothermic reaction (“Its corroding metal.” he told me) heated the
pasta/sausage/sauce, releasing a pungent gas (“Don’t do it in a closed room.”
he told me) and the result was perfect.
I ate directly from the entrée package using the enclosed plastic spoon.
Over the week, several
times SFC Freeman asked me how I like army life.
The camaraderie of the
barracks, the challenge of the classroom, the hike through the woods, the
shooting, the MRE – what’s not to like.
I mean, other than the targets shooting back, its all good.
And while I am on this
subject, I would like to say a few words about army food, though first I must
say that there is no better cook than my lovely wife. Army food is great! The box breakfast on Monday, the USAR
cafeteria at
I think I know how it
works: Soldiers have been complaining
for so long that the food has gotten better and better – but the soldiers keep
complaining. If it were to get no better,
than maybe there would be no value in complaining. Instead, over the years, soldiers kept up the
complaints and the food kept getting better.
There are comment cards on
every table in the cafeteria. I was
surprised there was not one in my MRE.
So, to do my part, I must use a cafeteria comment card to write to the
quartermaster. First draft: “Sir:
I have just been victimized by MRE menu 14. You must be trying to unload you war-surplus
cilantro. How am I to slay the Hun if
fed with over-seasoned veggie-sausage?”
I’ll have to have SFC Linares
review it for style. Anyway, after 9
hours on the zero and qual ranges, we finally made it back to Building
905. Top (MSG Scudder) was just inside
the door handing a bottle of water to each passing soldier, plus me. We went upstairs to the media hall and sat.
SFC Fedderly was decorated
and then he addressed us in his capacity as an army Career Counselor. Then, back to the cafeteria!
And then to the
barracks. I took the photo below of the sign
that several of us were discussing, took a walk through the commemorative park,
and then took a long shower. The hot
water made me realize that the new style helmet did not shield my face from
sunburn. Probably requires another
letter to the Quartermaster. Maybe
later.
on to the
next chapter
back to the table of contents