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Marine in Hawaii

I remember the time. Words famous for the beginning of a long story. I’ll keep it short. Short’ish. I was a Recon Marine back in the early ’80s. Yeah, I know, either as my picture suggests I was humping an M-16 when I was like 2 years old or I’m freaking ancient. I like the two-year-old scenario myself. Anyway, so there I was a part of a 4 man Recon team.

We were part of a large training operation taking place on Oahu. My team was a part of the OPFOR and assigned to shadow and harass an infantry company. Four guys against 150, seems fair, right? I think the intent was, at some point, we were supposed to get captured or killed. But, we showed them we didn’t settle for either of those choices. Instead, we ran and hid like a couple of frightened little girls.

This Infantry Company was good. They stayed on the road, I don’t remember if it was a requirement or because of the terrain. I assume the terrain. but, they did it right with flankers, rear element, and a point element. Anyway, we hit them and retreated. We did it over and over again. To the point that they got sick and tired of us. They tried to get us but we were too quick for them. Four guys can maneuver a lot faster than 150. But, we were having problems with the terrain too.

The training area was very hilly, very lush with vegetation, and can be steep in places. There are dirt roads all through the area and in many cases the roads are the best and only way to travel unless you decide to go down into some of the ravines where the point man has to fall into the vegitation, get up, fall into the vegitation, get up, and ETC to make a path.

We ended up getting pushed into an enclosed space, it was a parking area. The infantry was hot on our heels and the only two ways to move were back out on the road and get captured or through the trees and down a ravine to where the map said there was a small river we could follow to make our escape. The infantry would think twice about trying to chase us down that mess. As we found out later they did think twice, they got back on the road and continued their mission.

Between sliding on our asses, hanging onto tree limbs one after another, and digging our heels into the soft earth we finally made it down to the river. It wasn’t much of a river, maybe ten feet wide, two or three feet deep, and full of rocks of all sizes. Oh, before I forget it’s late afternoon and the trees overhead are doing their best to keep any sunlight from getting through to us.

Back in those days a handheld GPS’s was the stuff of science fiction. All we had were maps and lensatic compasses and the old green, angled, red lens, flashlight to see by. The map told us to follow the river and it would take us to a nice safe location, if the contour lines on the map were any indication there would be some serious climbing involved. Yeah, it would be good training if it didn’t suck. The sucks coming.

No big deal. Four hard charging Recon Marines would take a nice leasurly stroll down this river until it was time to get out. Did I tell you about the rocks? Some were as big as me which came in handy to lean on or brace yourself on. On the other side of the spectrum, some of these rocks were little fist sized ankle busters. They were under the water waiting for some dumb ass marine to step on one and then fall into the me sized rocks. Good times.

Oh, before I forget to tell you soon after we started the sun went down and it became pitch black. Light discipline, no white lights were used. Not, everyone had a red lens flashlight either. I remember the guy in front of me was only an arms distance away from me. I couldn’t see him at all. I had to tell him to pull out his compass and hang it over his rucksack so I could see the luminescent dial.

By this time, believe it or not, the map and compass scenario where no longer an option. We knew where we were, the river had taken us deep into the training area. There was no way up, it was too dark to try to climb up. So, we continued on. One hand holding your rifle the other blindly searching for an obstruction in front of you. It didn’t matter how careful you were you were going down in heap in the water and the rocks in the water. We all fell into the river multiple times, all of us were soaking wet. We trudged on.

As the night progressed maybe the moon came out, we couldn’t have seen it if had. We were tired, we were pissed, and we recognized how bad an idea this river trip was. At one point someone said, “Does anyone know where the fuck we are?” And one of the guys, the class clown, without missing a beat says, “Oh no, I lost my pace count.” We’re in a tactical situation, there’s enemy somewhere about, somewhere. And all of a sudden we all burst out laughing like lunatics. I remember it being one of the funniest things. It maybe wasn’t that hilarious, but I always remember it as such. It goes to show, as you get older you forget the bad stuff and remember all the good.

We kept going, following the river. I was the point man that night. At the time I was six foot four inches tall at a 170 lbs. Nowadays, I’m more like six foot two 205 lbs. There’s a cautionary tale there for all you guys and girls. All that humping with a heavy rucksacks adds up. So does all that jumping out of airplanes. Being airborne has its drawbacks. And finally, age will creep up on you and your spine will settle and BAM! You just got shorter, 20 to 30 years later.

Anyway. I’m on point and the water level comes up to my waist. No worries. Later it comes up to my stomach, again no worries. Then up to my chest. Then I’m trying to swim backward to get out of the deep stuff before all my gear drags me under. The team leader finally gives up and says, “let’s crawl up onto that little spit of land and wait for the sun to come up”. We do. Cool, we’ll get a little shut eye and start the day fresh. I get my poncho liner and spread the wet thing over me trying to get away from the mosquitoes. Then guess what? It starts to rain, one of those tropical rainstorms blows in and welcomes us to dry land. And, I don’t even care. I just go to sleep. I’ll be a new day tomorrow.

To this day I can remember the class clown and his quip about the pace count. He was a funny mofo. I feel like I have forgotten a lot of stories in the mist of time, but there are still a lot of others floating around in my brain box from my time in the Marines and Special Forces. Like that time in the Philipeans, out in the field, I woke up and saw this, thing, staring at me.

Have you got any stories?

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Stay tuned for my new novel, "Rock of Authority" coming in Oct of 2019.