November 6, 2003

And thus ended Core Phase ...

At approximatly 0450 we began the culminating event of Core Phase, the FTX. We were short on ammunition, magazines, and SAWs as we loaded onto the white modifed school busses that would take us to the desert. McGregor Range appearently has un-exploded ordinance dating back to pre-WWII and a variety of wildlife ranging from oryxs (not to be confused with orcs, but just as dangerous) to scorpions. In ADA OBC fashion, many of us hardly cared that there weren't enough magazines and hoped they would run out of rifles. This of course was not the case, and eventually after many hours on Assembly Area Normandy, they scrounged up enough magazines so that we all had one and at least 50 rounds of ammo. Sadly the FTX was not going to be canceled.

I was starting to feel like a paratrooper loaded with our excessive amounts of cumbersome equipment, armed with the challenge and password "flash" and "thunder" (me and one other guy were nerdy enough to know is was used on D-day) on AA Normany, and coated with some forest colored camo which hasn't been worn by soliders in combat since Panama. As we waited to step off I watched as our OPFOR platoons were chased off by the Aussie SGI with arty sims. Luckily we were spared from that, the desert was dune and thorn bush covered, making walking a difficult enough task. And the we walked, and walked. I imagine I looked like that emaciated Indian boy in Temple of Doom as I staggered up every dune thinking each step would be my last.

Our patrol base was located on the biggest mountain of sand out there. We ploped ourselves down, pushed around some rocks and settled down for the night. The most my platoon had to do was set up a observation point on TOC which was on the hillside across from us and rotate 45 min patrols. The OPFOR had a habit of killing our LP/OP. On our first patrol we found the LP/OP guys dead. Julz told me later that she and Mark were reconing up there and decided it would be a good idea to take off their kevlars and hide thier rifles to pretend like they were of of the medics up there. The guys setting up the LP/OP walked right by them and got safety killed. When it was my turn to sit on it, me and my partner thought it would be a good idea to hide under the trucks, which prompted in a long lecture from MAJ Alvarez. Its not that I was sleeping under the truck, I was ready to jump out everytime it creaked or pinged. I was ridiclously cold up there so me and the other guy were very antsy for our relief to come. So when I heard a cranky CPT Sarchet snap "does it look like I have a fucking rifle" I knew they were around and we ran over to them a little down the hill. On our second patrol we followed second squad's trend and wore our nit beanies or patrol caps. Once again we found the LP/OP position dead, as we huddled around them while they told the story of how they were killed. I noticed about a squad of riflemen (OPFOR were dressed the same as us) silhouetted up the hillside. I questioned "like those guys?" and we yelled the challange, diving down and starting to fire cause they didn't respond. Luckily their SGI watching them threw arty sims for some reason and chased them away. So we once again setup the LP/OP despite its short lifespan and wandered back to our hill where I pulled out my sleeping bag and fell asleep.

I woke up at "stand to" the next morning and lounged around without my kevlar or harness eating a toster pastry for most or the early morning, until first squad got tasked with setting up a road block. We arrived just in time to help a squad from another platoon check cars, mess up, receive another lecture from MAJ Alvarez. We improved on their strategy when we took over, my job was to move the concertina wire so cars could get in. This ended up being more difficult than I thought and cursed as I got myself tangled in it, but otherwise our first run through was going well. I guess MAJ Alvarez got bored and decided to throw a "grenade" into our operation from some unseen insurgent. TJ organized us well in response so he decided to throw another "grenade" that was supposedly from one of our detainees. TJ once again reacted pretty well considering our resources, but MAJ Alvarez could once again lecture us this time adding the topic consigency plans. After that we wandered back to our hill, stripped ourselves of out kevlar and harness and lounged around until we recived the warning order for that nights mission. I was excited when TJ showed me there were fossils in the rocks and scavanged around for a good souvenir and maybe a dinosaur. The SGIs were bored and every once and a while threw massive amounts of arty sims which didn't phase us.

After we packed up for the final attack things got even more relaxed. Hatch and Luepke brought some whiskey out and Luepke made Irish coffee using MRE ingredients. Both drinks got passed around as our platoon huddled and giggled on the hillside.

About 400 meters from our objective we had a security halt during the leader's recon. The sand was ridiculously cold, I was imagining lossing a toe as i huddled in the fetal position for the two hours the leader's recon took. My platoon was the support platoon. Our job was to go around from the opposite side and perform a feint. The terrain around their defensive position was flat and the shrubery was short. As we lied freezing in the sand they would shoot up flares to light up the area. Finally the attack began and the SGIs threw a ton of smoke, flares, and arty sims. People descried our dash closer to the enemy's position as "Picket's charge," I guess its an civil war thing. After a bit, Adam got up and yelled "this time charge for real!" I died in the open field, maybe from an arty sim. I took off my kevlar and walked through the smoke where suddenly a dirt speed bump appeared. I sat myself down next to the collection of dead people next to Tony's impressive foxhole for the remainder of the battle.

After the battle and the AAR the remainder of tactics was thrown out and we slung rifles and moved in a large gaggle back to our rucks. We were woken at 4 something back CPT Sarchet yelling "wake up" and throwing arty sims at us. I was ridiculously cold so it took a lot of arty sims to get us out of our sleeping bags.

We were all hoping to be released by noon, unfortunatly the army is retarded and that didn't happen. First, appearntly no one woke up 5th platoon so we had to wait on them. Then there was turning in our miles, cleaning our rifles, and cleaning the class room. Most platoon were done with those three before noon, but the arms room hadn't gotten back to us regarding a turn-in time so we were stuck watching early 90's sitcoms. Third platoon was also lagging behind. About half the class went home and took showers, so that when we finally could go to the arms room at 2 something their room was a mess and their rifles weren't clean. When we got to the arms room the chick wasn't there. When she finally arrived she was a total pain about inspecting, even making us remove the "do not remove" labled metal thingies in the hand guards. So that like took around an hour. Then we sat in the classroom waiting to be released for like another hour cause we couldn't until they 100% accountablity of rifles. I didn't get to hop into the shower until 450pm.

I'm still crispy dehydrated -yuck-