Experiences while still in the Green

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Since Vapros is sharing some of his stories and journal entries from the past I think some of you might enjoy reading some things about what some of my experience was in the green.

Over the next few days I will recount what it meant to be cold, hot, adrenaline rush's, and when the Army in the 70's wasn't as politically correct as it is today...

Or as I remember what it was like to feel 10 foot tall, made out of steel and bulletproof...an atypical 20 something year old who was cocked, locked, and ready to rock at a moments notice...albeit not too bright a bulb at the time.

Just remember that these will be the musings of a old grunt, redneck, whose grammar and written word are not always spot on. I will write these with the knowledge that "a man is not old until his dreams turn into regrets", don't remember who said that but it is appropriate in this venue.

That statement doesn't mean I am giving up on this grand adventure. It just means that if I tried to do some of the things I did in the past now, it would kill me deader than a doorknob.

B

 

[wgcp]

Cold

Cold

4:30 that damn Big Ben is ringing across the room...today is the last day for 35 I will get to wake up in a bunk...or inside for that matter...Slide into flip-flops, grab the toothbrush and toothpaste and head for the latrine...It is always amazing to me how slowly the barracks wakes up on a Friday morning, hell its pay day, I don't care if we are going out or not...

Teeth brushed, face washed, time to slip into PT gear...it was a little different back then...Spit shined Cochran's,(with vibram soles, so I could be an inch taller, heavy as hell though), starched fatigue pants,(there is no feeling like splitting starch on a pair of fatigues), Comanche airborne t-shirt, and sweat shirt, black leather gloves, bacalava folded to cover my ears, and just in case over my face...Quick glance out the window at the thermometer, OMG it's 20 below zero, oh well another day another dollar.

Quick check of my ruck, I packed it last night, balanced the load, ensured my E-tool, and machete, were secure, all of my field clothes are clean and ready...LCE is taped and quite, canteens are full, really feel lucky that the supply sergeant scored some LRPS (long range patrol subsistence). LRPS are lighter than C-rations, but have to have water, usually a pain in the butt to melt snow to eat but about half the weight. Weight matters when you are 165 pounds and your ruck weighs right at 100.

Everyone is gathering for PT formation, yes, its 20 below, and we are going to go run a quick 5 miles...I recheck my belt, its gotta be right, gig-line, Top is anal about attention to detail even during PT and I don't feel like dropping down on ice to do 25 push-ups for a stupid mistake.

In formation, typical, extend to your left, right face, extend to your right, left face...Here comes the daily dozen, frozen chosen or not...Top was a black hat at Jump School and to this day I have never seen anyone with arms as big as his...he relished PT.

I am starting to shiver, jumping jacks, 8 count push ups, and various other torture means are not keeping me warm, thank god he finally call's assemble to the right...Right face, forward march...I am thinking please let the road not be all ice today...and off we go...for those who have never had the pleasure of running with an airborne infantry company...it is the sound of 120 soldiers boots hitting pavement in time...180 beats per minute, with cadence being called and repeated...it is 5:20 in the morning...the run will be slow, probably around 8 minute miles, the roads are slick, and we still have to prep for the jump and field, the Post and all the legs, (non-airborne individuals), are just waking up and we are running in formation right through barracks row singing cadence and running...At this point in my life I love this, love cadence, I am just warm enough to survive another morning of PT.

"continued later"