Reflections of My Service Prt 2

When I arrived at Battalion, I was kept in the dark of what was going on. There was, however, no doubt about me deploying. We were told that from day one of getting into Shilo. I, on the other hand, found myself course-bound that morning. January 7th, 2007. We got into Battalion, formed up three ranks and the Company CQ told us the first rank was 4 Platoon, second 5 and third 6. I was in 6 Platoon, Bravo Company. Then the next question: who had drivers licenses? I did. And everyone else who bothered to show they had them ended up on their air brakes course. I would be vetted into becoming a LAV (Light Armored Vehicle) III driver, as well as a LUVW (Light Utility Vehicle Wheeled) driver. So, while everyone else was off finding out what Batalion life was really like, I was still doing courses. One after another. Air brakes, defensive driving, dangerous goods, LUVW, LAV III and the maintenance of the LAV III. This took me up until March when we finally started the true work-up training.

We started with ranges. C6 GPMG (General Purpose Machine Gun), C7 Service Rifle (basically an M16), C8 (M4A1), C9 LMG (Light Machine gun, basically the M249 SAW, squad automatic weapon), M72, 84mm Carl Gustav Recoiless Rifle SRAAW (Short Range Anti Armor Weapon). There's more, always more. Be we did it all in one long succession. Courses on first aid refreshers. Even for being vetted to be a LAV driver, I ended up an M203 Gunner, essentially a rifleman.

We did small exercises. Little one and two week excursions into the Shilo training area. Live fire exercises with artillery support. Clearing buildings, securing them, personal and material inside. I also discovered that during these exercises, and especially the ranges, I could spend upwards of twelve hours sitting inside a LAV III not doing anything. Just sitting there, waiting. You sleep, wait for your ass to go numb, drift in and out of consciousness, feel your knees aching, feel your bladder fill and you can't leave. And all the while, you're jammed in back with six other guys. Uncomfortable as all hell. And by the time you get to dismount, if you ever actually do, you can't jump out of the vehicle at full force. You need to ease yourself out, using your right as a cane because your body is bent and haggard and your knees are killing you and suddenly you feel as if you're ninety years old.

Reflexive shooting ranges. More courses, more ranges, more exercises. Some good, some bad, and depending on who was running it, a complete and utter joy or pain in the proverbial ass.