Since I returned from Afghanistan last year, I have been running an experiment with my life, trying to see if I could stay on active duty long enough to get on another deployment. I have no desire to bounce back and forth between the engineering world and the Marine Corps world. The engineering world is tough enough to keep up with without unnecessary year-long breaks in the middle. So the solution to deploy again was stay on active duty in the Marine Corps long enough to get some down time, then get my second deployment in.
That was my motivation for coming down to 29 Palms. They had a place for me, said they had everything worked out. I would have a year to figure out where my next deployment was coming from, or if I needed to revert to civilian life. Shortly after I arrived, we discovered it would be a significant battle to keep me on. And we've fought that battle for the past four going on five months now. But the battle appears to be over, and we've lost.
This Friday is my last day in my current position with the Tactical Training and Exercise Control Group, the crazy Marines I've been hanging out with that refer to each other with numbers and letters rather than names. The Marines who motivated me throw myself back into the job when I was more than burnt out after my deployment. The Marines who made 14-hour days in 90-degree temperatures wearing a flak jacket and kevlar helmet bearable. The Marines who've taken care of me, who've fought to keep me, who've welcomed me into their lives and homes, who've modeled leadership for me.
It's a matter of money. The people who want to keep me are not the people who control the purse strings. My job is not important enough to pay me to do it. Once the money runs out at the end of the week, that's it. As of Sunday, I am looking for a new job.
I'm not about to starve or go homeless any time soon. A different unit has mentioned the possibility of bringing me on for a month of two--that would give me a little breathing room to get a job search going. I'm going to approach this very carefully; consider my options; try to figure out a long-term career path. One that involves me staying in one place for more than a few months.
At this point, I'm really not sure if I'll ever return to regular active duty with the Marine Corps. I love being a Marine, but after doing this for almost three years now, I easily see the problems in the system that make young officers and young Marines decide to seek a life elsewhere.
What's next for me? No clue.
Showing posts with label coyote. Show all posts
Showing posts with label coyote. Show all posts
13 July 2011
21 June 2011
Direct Fire
Just over a year ago, I write about my experience on a training exercise where I dismounted and moved up to a vehicle that just had a simulated IED hit. For the past four months, I have been working with the Marine run this exercise, known as Combat Logistics Patrol Exercise, or CLPEX ("clip-ex") for short. Sunday we had a special treat--we got to watch direct fire by an artillery battery. Typically, the Marines in the training (we call the the Exercise Force, or EXFOR--"ex-fore") are from a Combat Logistics Battalion, or CLB ("see-el-bee"). However, one day of each Mojave Viper is dedicated to the Artillery Battery.
On that day, their mission is to move to a patrol base and set up a support position with their Howitzers. Along the way (this is part of the exercise), they are attacked by an entire platoon of insurgents that they cannot suppress with the weapons they have in the patrol. Typically the CLB will stop and request artillery fire. Today, since the patrol had heavy guns with them, they dropped their guns, or took them off their wheels, and shot directly at the targets. Howitzers are designed to fire from a long way off--a Howitzer can be located up 24km away from the target it is shooting at. Today, the targets were in sight just off to our left, less than 3km away.
As the patrol rolled towards the end of its exercise, the call came over my coyote radio--one coyote would detonate the explosives he had set on the side of the road, and the rest of us would tell our EXFOR that they were taking fire from the pre-designated target. I heard the explosion and picked up my radio to the EXFOR truck in front of me. They pulled off the road so they could start engaging the enemy I had just told them about with the heavy weapon on their truck. All through the rest of the patrol, the rest of the trucks were doing the same, and the trucks hauling the Howitzers were dropping the guns.
The live fire events go fast and furious--some times the radio traffic is so busy that it is difficult to get the correct calls in over the radio to the coyote running the exercise. We all heard the call over the radio from the coyote next to the Howitzers that they had fired a shot, but his next call was something no coyote wants to hear: "Emergency, stop exercise! We have a casualty!" Throughout our exercises, we very carefully avoid using the word "casualty". When we simulate injuries to Marines so they can practice their first and and medevac procedures, we call those Marines "cherrypickers". If a coyote accidentally calls a "cherrypicker" a "casualty", he owes every coyote on the range that day a beer. This wasn't a simulated injury. I couldn't see what was going on at the guns, so I had no idea how serious the situation was.
Seconds later, the lead coyote was calling over the radio "hold exercise force in place and go clear, cold, condition four on all weapons systems"--everybody stay where you are, and make sure there is no live ammunition in any of the weapons. A few seconds later, we all breathed a sigh of relief when we heard the primary injury was a broken foot. We waited to resume the exercise as corpsmen assessed the injury and arranged a ground medevac to the hospital on mainside.
We resumed the exercise about half an hour later, once the injured Marine was safely on his way to the hospital. The Howitzers resumed firing at the targets with two different types of rounds. The first type detonated as soon as the round hit the ground. They created a brown poof as they hit the deck and were easy to see once they were down range, but the explosion was contained and not that exciting. The second type of round is designed to explode above the ground and send shrapnel down on troops not under cover. When they exploded, they created a small black mushroom cloud and a gigantic circular brown cloud beneath them as the pressure wave hit the ground.
We watched as the battery shot off all the rounds it was carrying and then told our EXFOR that the target had been destroyed and the exercise was over. We waited as they double-checked that all their weapons were unloaded, then gathered back at the rally point to debrief and get ready for the next run.
On that day, their mission is to move to a patrol base and set up a support position with their Howitzers. Along the way (this is part of the exercise), they are attacked by an entire platoon of insurgents that they cannot suppress with the weapons they have in the patrol. Typically the CLB will stop and request artillery fire. Today, since the patrol had heavy guns with them, they dropped their guns, or took them off their wheels, and shot directly at the targets. Howitzers are designed to fire from a long way off--a Howitzer can be located up 24km away from the target it is shooting at. Today, the targets were in sight just off to our left, less than 3km away.
As the patrol rolled towards the end of its exercise, the call came over my coyote radio--one coyote would detonate the explosives he had set on the side of the road, and the rest of us would tell our EXFOR that they were taking fire from the pre-designated target. I heard the explosion and picked up my radio to the EXFOR truck in front of me. They pulled off the road so they could start engaging the enemy I had just told them about with the heavy weapon on their truck. All through the rest of the patrol, the rest of the trucks were doing the same, and the trucks hauling the Howitzers were dropping the guns.
The live fire events go fast and furious--some times the radio traffic is so busy that it is difficult to get the correct calls in over the radio to the coyote running the exercise. We all heard the call over the radio from the coyote next to the Howitzers that they had fired a shot, but his next call was something no coyote wants to hear: "Emergency, stop exercise! We have a casualty!" Throughout our exercises, we very carefully avoid using the word "casualty". When we simulate injuries to Marines so they can practice their first and and medevac procedures, we call those Marines "cherrypickers". If a coyote accidentally calls a "cherrypicker" a "casualty", he owes every coyote on the range that day a beer. This wasn't a simulated injury. I couldn't see what was going on at the guns, so I had no idea how serious the situation was.
Seconds later, the lead coyote was calling over the radio "hold exercise force in place and go clear, cold, condition four on all weapons systems"--everybody stay where you are, and make sure there is no live ammunition in any of the weapons. A few seconds later, we all breathed a sigh of relief when we heard the primary injury was a broken foot. We waited to resume the exercise as corpsmen assessed the injury and arranged a ground medevac to the hospital on mainside.
We resumed the exercise about half an hour later, once the injured Marine was safely on his way to the hospital. The Howitzers resumed firing at the targets with two different types of rounds. The first type detonated as soon as the round hit the ground. They created a brown poof as they hit the deck and were easy to see once they were down range, but the explosion was contained and not that exciting. The second type of round is designed to explode above the ground and send shrapnel down on troops not under cover. When they exploded, they created a small black mushroom cloud and a gigantic circular brown cloud beneath them as the pressure wave hit the ground.
We watched as the battery shot off all the rounds it was carrying and then told our EXFOR that the target had been destroyed and the exercise was over. We waited as they double-checked that all their weapons were unloaded, then gathered back at the rally point to debrief and get ready for the next run.
10 March 2011
Motorized Operations Course
My alarm goes off at 0315. Today I am "launching" for the Motorized Operations Course, or MOC ("mock"), which means that I am headed out to the field for the day to chase around Marines as they go through various drills that they may need to use in country--reacting to situations such as an object on the side of the road that they think might be an IED, or enemy forces firing at them, or an exploded IED. In all of these situations, we coyotes observe the Exercise Force, or EXFOR ("ex-fore"), as they go through their drills, then provide them with feedback on ways they can improve once they have completed the exercise. Today will be a fun day, because I learn at the brief that for the second half of the day I will be "front seat". I will have an experienced Marine guiding me, but I will be responsible for informing the lead coyote of everything that my vehicle is doing, and making the final evaluation of that vehicle.
We are the lead vehicle, so as expected, someone in our vehicle spots the "possible IED (PIED)" that was set out early that morning. It is a plastic jug and propane tank that are designed to resemble the IEDs currently being placed in country. From my HMMWV, I try to watch the vehicle of Marines that I am observing. Are they using their binoculars to get a better view of the object? The lead coyote, who's stationed on a hill where he can see the entire range but doesn't have a close-up view of any single part of it, comes up on my radio and asks the question. I have been trying to determine the answer, but the turret armor is in my way. I get out of my vehicle and walk around the side of the EXFOR vehicle. The windows in the turret are small, so it takes a minute, but I finally see the gunner, and he's using his binoculars to look at the possible IED.
I key my microphone. "That's an a-firm, he has his binoculars out," I say.
"Four-four." The lead coyote answers with his call sign, which means "I heard you", or "yes" depending on the context. My call sign is 41E, or four-one-echo.
We observe the vehicle for a while longer, and after a short period of time it drives off the road, a two-lane dirt path, and heads east out into the desert.
After I am fairly certain I know what they're doing, I key my mike and call up to the lead coyote. "Vic one is setting up a cordon to the east."
"Are they setting up a cordon or just pushing off to the east?" 44 asks. He pauses, then asks, "Do you see the difference?"
I am not sure I do, so I hold off on answering. Once 43, my backseat Marine, is free, I turn around. "What's the difference?" I ask.
"Right now it's still a little early to be sure they're actually setting up a cordon," he explains. "They could just be pushing east to get around the possible IED. Until you're sure they're actually setting up a cordon, you just want to say they're pushing east."
"Ah," I say. Within seconds, the vehicle moves farther east.
"Okay, now you could say they're setting up a cordon," 43 explains. We follow them farther east, and eventually they choose the final location where they will wait until the Explosive Ordinance Disposal (EOD) unit arrives to investigate the IED. We watch as two Marines get out of the vehicle and start checking the area around their vehicle for IED indicators. Their approach is mostly correct, except they are somewhat lacking on their spatial awareness. Every time they push out to cover new ground, they end up moving back in towards the vehicle, making their check less effective than it should be.
I am not sure what to do with this information--tell 44, file it away in my notes for the de-brief, or discuss the issue with the Marines that are currently making the checks? All, some, none? 43 walks towards one of the Marines to explain what he is doing, so I walk towards the second one. "Do you notice what you're doing?" I say in a friendly tone as I approach the Marine.
"What's that, ma'am?" he asks. I explain the pattern I've seen, and he is thankful. The next time they push out for new ground, they are more conscious of their distance and their technique is more effective. After a few more minutes, their checks are finished, and they climb back in the vehicle, where the armor protects them.
43 and I wait for the script to play out. We try to make the training as realistic as possible, so the lead coyote contacts them on their radio and pretends to be EOD. Once he has done that, he directs one of the other coyotes to approach the southern end of the corridor and give the appropriate signal. The other coyote does as directed, and the patrol returns the correct signal to link-up with the "EOD unit". The lead coyote directs a third coyote to drive towards the possible IED, and sends the call out on the radio, "Coyotes, go ahead and paint that EOD unit approaching the PIED."
I get out of my vehicle and provide the "paint". One of the key roles of the coyote is to describe to the EXFOR what is happening. On a real battlefield, the EXFOR would be able to watch as EOD drive their robot up to the IED and determined the appropriate action to take. On our simulated battlefield, it is the responsibility of the coyote the describe to the EXFOR what they would be seeing or hearing so that they can imagine the battlefield as it would be an act appropriately. I get out of my vehicle.
"Hey, gunner," I call out and flag the Marine in the turret. He looks at me. "Do you see that HMMWV heading towards the PIED?" I ask. "That's the robot from EOD going to look at the PIED." He turns around, sees the HMMWV, and gives me the thumbs up. I go back to my vehicle as he passes that information to the rest of the Marines in his vehicle.
We wait, and the lead coyote directs yet another coyote to walk up to the PIED and toss an artillery simulator, or "arty sim". The arty sims are real-life explosives that make a whistling noise followed by a bang. They were originally designed to simulate incoming artillery, but we use them for more than that. Right now, a coyote will toss an arty sim to simulate EOD disposing of the PIED. This way the EXFOR can have realistic training in that the Marines will see and hear the explosion, but at least for this scenario we will not need the time or expense to use significant amounts of explosives.
I get out of my truck and position myself so I can see into the turret. I hear the lead coyote calling out for other coyotes to "paint" to the patrol leader that there is 2 minutes to a controlled detonation, just as would happen in real life if EOD were getting rid of an IED that was found.
"We don't paint this to them, ma'am," 43 calls out to me. The countdown to controlled detonation should be passed to the EXFOR vehicle over their own radio, so I don't have to make the "paint" in this operation. My job is to tell them what they would be seeing in a real situation, not to act as an alternate avenue for information they should already be getting.
I walk back to our vehicle. "I know," I told him. "I was just going to see if the gunner got down in the turret." He nods. One of the best parts of my new job so far is that everyone looks out for me and gives me whatever advice they can.
Yesterday I was in a different shop and started getting questions about the ring I wear from a senior officer that I barely know. After a couple of my deflective answers, he explained that he knew that I was jumping off trucks and didn't want me to get hurt. Unfortunately, Marines that wear their wedding rings out in the field are vulnerable to an injury called "de-gloving", where their ring gets caught on something and removes the skin and muscle from their ring finger. I like my finger and would like to keep it, so any time I know I am going to be around vehicles I tuck my ring into my shoulder pocket. I told the officer as much and thanked him for his concern. Sometimes Marines will start telling me and my instinct is to bristle that they are telling me how to do my job. Fortunately, I am usually able, after a moment of thought, to recognize their advice for what it is, and now am quite thankful that there are so many caring Marines that are looking out for me.
Anyway, back to the possible IED. The coyote threw the arty sim, and the "IED" was "detonated". The first time I came out on the course, one of the coyotes got out their cell phone and played "Domo Arigato, Mr. Robato" over our coyote radio, providing everyone with some amusement for the day. It was Saturday...what can I say.
Once the IED has been taken care of, it is time for the patrol to push on. The next portion of the patrol, the live-fire portion, will be the most difficult for me. The vehicle I am assigned to has a restriction on their weapon. Usually, the weapons are allowed to fire on their own. However, the mount for this weapon is missing a pin. It is safe to allow the weapon to fire, but to ensure safety on the range, we have told the gunner that he is only allowed to fire when a coyote is present, and that means me. That means before the gunner can fire, I have to sprint from my vehicle to his, climb up on the vehicle to where he can see me, and clear him to fire. The vehicle is not allowed to move while I am on it, so when he yells at me to get down, I will jump off the EXFOR vehicle, sprint to my own vehicle, and jump in as quickly as possible so we can follow the EXFOR vehicle and be ready for the next time they are ready to shoot their weapon.
In the middle of this, I will be making calls up to the lead coyote, telling him what the gunner is doing--is he shooting, reloading his weapon, taking care of a minor weapon malfunction, or are they getting ready to move? There are specific calls I am supposed to make to the lead coyote for each of these situations, and as we get ready for the live-fire, I rehearse the calls in my head. Soon enough, the lead coyote calls on the radio and "paints" to us that the first vehicle in the patrol is receiving fire from one location, and the second vehicle is receiving fire from a second location. I bring up my radio to the gunner and pass the information along--information he would be able to see for himself on a real battlefield.
We watch as the vehicle speeds up sightly to get in a position to fire. One they have stopped, our driver slams on his brakes, and I am already opening the door as the vehicle is stopping. I sprint over to the EXFOR vehicle and climb up so I can talk to the gunner.
"Is it okay?" he asks me. I am not sure what to say. I am not allowed to tell him to fire, I am only allowed to give him permission to fire. I settle on, "you're clear," but then notice that his weapon is focused in on a location that is not even a target. I need to describe to him what he would be seeing on a real battlefield, so that he can practice firing back at simulated insurgents, not a random point in the ground that he has chosen.
"Whoa, wait a second. Do you see over there?" I point towards the "insurgents" we want the gunners to identify, and describe it. He sees it, and turns his gun so he is pointing at the supposed insurgent location. He starts firing, and I key my mike. "Vic 2 active, target 1." This allows the lead coyote to maintain awareness of what each vehicle is doing, so he can ensure the range remains safe.
After a few seconds, the gunner yells, "coyote, get down." That is my cue to sprint back to my vehicle and prepare to move. As I sprint, I key my mike. "Vic 2 cold, moving." We continue--the gunner firing, me sprinting back and forth, until the vehicle has passed the safe limit for firing. I call him on the radio he has and tell him he is no longer able to fire. We catch our breath as the patrol re-organizes and prepares to continue on their route.
It doesn't take long before--BOOM! Dirt is thrown into the air as a coyote simulates an IED strike on a vehicle in the patrol. This one uses real explosives, so we are all careful to stay away from the area. A coyote runs over to the vehicle that was "hit" with the IED and "paints" to that vehicle that their vehicle is stuck, their radios no longer work, and some of the Marines in the truck are injured.
For the next hour, we observe as the Marines rehearse their drill, taking care of the simulated casualties. We call these simulated casualties "cherry-pickers". We don't use the word "casualty" unless someone has actually gotten injured during training, so our coyote corpsman goes over to the vehicle, "paints" the Marines' injuries, and then watches as they treat the simulated wounds. I watch, too, as they set up a landing zone for a MEDEVAC (medical evacuation) helicopter to land, debating inside my head just like before. What should I tell the lead coyote, what should I put in my notes, and what should I talk to the Marines about? I am not sure, and this time my guide is on a different part of the field, and unavailable for consult. I do my best while keeping in mind that my objective is to provide the most effective training for the Marines.
The Marines work efficiently to get the cherry-pickers onto the MEDEVAC, and the lead coyote calls an end to the exercise. We pause for safety precautions, then release the EXFOR. (It is up to them, but they will likely de-brief themselves, head back to their barracks, and clean their weapons). The coyotes re-group for their own debriefing. The lead coyote asks me what I learned today, and I have learned so much that I am not sure where to start. I offer a couple points, and he moves on to the next new coyote. The lead coyote discusses the day's exercise with us, and what we can do better to make the training more realistic, then tells us all to be safe as we drive back to the main part of the base.
Once we are back, I pull the sheets I have been marking off my clipboard and give them to another coyote. All of the sheets from each coyote evaluating each vehicle will be compiled into a single evaluation, which will be sent to the EXFOR so they have a written record of how they did and areas they can improve. We have already debriefed them informally, but the evaluation is a more formal document. Fortunately, I am not expected to stay as the more experienced coyotes discuss the formal evaluation, so I compile a shopping list and I head home.
In all, it was about thirteen hours from the time we left for the range until the time we returned. From the time we left until the time we returned, I was wearing my bright orange flak jacket with bullet-proof plates with my camelbak, eye protection, radio, and clipboard. Except for the de-brief periods, I was wearing my kevlar helmet (that's a rant for another time...not the fact that we have to wear it, but the fact that the straps don't fit over a regulation bun very well). By the time the day ends, my t-shirt is soaked with sweat, and I am fairly worn out from the long hours in the sun. My face and neck are still recovering from last weekend, when I neglected to wear sunscreen and received a pretty good sunburn as a result.
Make no mistake--I love my job. This is how I spent last weekend, both Saturday and Sunday, so even though I wasn't originally scheduled to go out today, I asked to go so I could get the additional experience. In the three weeks I've been here, I've seen a radically different side to all of the training I've had in the Marine Corps so far. I understand the methods and the purpose better. I've been able to ask questions to refine my own understanding of Marine Corps doctrine and offer advice to Marines that may help save their lives. The long hours and the sun don't seem like much to pay for the benefits. Yes, I am now exhausted--time to load the dishwasher and go to bed, even though it's not even 9pm.
But overall? I'll take it.
We are the lead vehicle, so as expected, someone in our vehicle spots the "possible IED (PIED)" that was set out early that morning. It is a plastic jug and propane tank that are designed to resemble the IEDs currently being placed in country. From my HMMWV, I try to watch the vehicle of Marines that I am observing. Are they using their binoculars to get a better view of the object? The lead coyote, who's stationed on a hill where he can see the entire range but doesn't have a close-up view of any single part of it, comes up on my radio and asks the question. I have been trying to determine the answer, but the turret armor is in my way. I get out of my vehicle and walk around the side of the EXFOR vehicle. The windows in the turret are small, so it takes a minute, but I finally see the gunner, and he's using his binoculars to look at the possible IED.
I key my microphone. "That's an a-firm, he has his binoculars out," I say.
"Four-four." The lead coyote answers with his call sign, which means "I heard you", or "yes" depending on the context. My call sign is 41E, or four-one-echo.
We observe the vehicle for a while longer, and after a short period of time it drives off the road, a two-lane dirt path, and heads east out into the desert.
After I am fairly certain I know what they're doing, I key my mike and call up to the lead coyote. "Vic one is setting up a cordon to the east."
"Are they setting up a cordon or just pushing off to the east?" 44 asks. He pauses, then asks, "Do you see the difference?"
I am not sure I do, so I hold off on answering. Once 43, my backseat Marine, is free, I turn around. "What's the difference?" I ask.
"Right now it's still a little early to be sure they're actually setting up a cordon," he explains. "They could just be pushing east to get around the possible IED. Until you're sure they're actually setting up a cordon, you just want to say they're pushing east."
"Ah," I say. Within seconds, the vehicle moves farther east.
"Okay, now you could say they're setting up a cordon," 43 explains. We follow them farther east, and eventually they choose the final location where they will wait until the Explosive Ordinance Disposal (EOD) unit arrives to investigate the IED. We watch as two Marines get out of the vehicle and start checking the area around their vehicle for IED indicators. Their approach is mostly correct, except they are somewhat lacking on their spatial awareness. Every time they push out to cover new ground, they end up moving back in towards the vehicle, making their check less effective than it should be.
I am not sure what to do with this information--tell 44, file it away in my notes for the de-brief, or discuss the issue with the Marines that are currently making the checks? All, some, none? 43 walks towards one of the Marines to explain what he is doing, so I walk towards the second one. "Do you notice what you're doing?" I say in a friendly tone as I approach the Marine.
"What's that, ma'am?" he asks. I explain the pattern I've seen, and he is thankful. The next time they push out for new ground, they are more conscious of their distance and their technique is more effective. After a few more minutes, their checks are finished, and they climb back in the vehicle, where the armor protects them.
43 and I wait for the script to play out. We try to make the training as realistic as possible, so the lead coyote contacts them on their radio and pretends to be EOD. Once he has done that, he directs one of the other coyotes to approach the southern end of the corridor and give the appropriate signal. The other coyote does as directed, and the patrol returns the correct signal to link-up with the "EOD unit". The lead coyote directs a third coyote to drive towards the possible IED, and sends the call out on the radio, "Coyotes, go ahead and paint that EOD unit approaching the PIED."
I get out of my vehicle and provide the "paint". One of the key roles of the coyote is to describe to the EXFOR what is happening. On a real battlefield, the EXFOR would be able to watch as EOD drive their robot up to the IED and determined the appropriate action to take. On our simulated battlefield, it is the responsibility of the coyote the describe to the EXFOR what they would be seeing or hearing so that they can imagine the battlefield as it would be an act appropriately. I get out of my vehicle.
"Hey, gunner," I call out and flag the Marine in the turret. He looks at me. "Do you see that HMMWV heading towards the PIED?" I ask. "That's the robot from EOD going to look at the PIED." He turns around, sees the HMMWV, and gives me the thumbs up. I go back to my vehicle as he passes that information to the rest of the Marines in his vehicle.
We wait, and the lead coyote directs yet another coyote to walk up to the PIED and toss an artillery simulator, or "arty sim". The arty sims are real-life explosives that make a whistling noise followed by a bang. They were originally designed to simulate incoming artillery, but we use them for more than that. Right now, a coyote will toss an arty sim to simulate EOD disposing of the PIED. This way the EXFOR can have realistic training in that the Marines will see and hear the explosion, but at least for this scenario we will not need the time or expense to use significant amounts of explosives.
I get out of my truck and position myself so I can see into the turret. I hear the lead coyote calling out for other coyotes to "paint" to the patrol leader that there is 2 minutes to a controlled detonation, just as would happen in real life if EOD were getting rid of an IED that was found.
"We don't paint this to them, ma'am," 43 calls out to me. The countdown to controlled detonation should be passed to the EXFOR vehicle over their own radio, so I don't have to make the "paint" in this operation. My job is to tell them what they would be seeing in a real situation, not to act as an alternate avenue for information they should already be getting.
I walk back to our vehicle. "I know," I told him. "I was just going to see if the gunner got down in the turret." He nods. One of the best parts of my new job so far is that everyone looks out for me and gives me whatever advice they can.
Yesterday I was in a different shop and started getting questions about the ring I wear from a senior officer that I barely know. After a couple of my deflective answers, he explained that he knew that I was jumping off trucks and didn't want me to get hurt. Unfortunately, Marines that wear their wedding rings out in the field are vulnerable to an injury called "de-gloving", where their ring gets caught on something and removes the skin and muscle from their ring finger. I like my finger and would like to keep it, so any time I know I am going to be around vehicles I tuck my ring into my shoulder pocket. I told the officer as much and thanked him for his concern. Sometimes Marines will start telling me and my instinct is to bristle that they are telling me how to do my job. Fortunately, I am usually able, after a moment of thought, to recognize their advice for what it is, and now am quite thankful that there are so many caring Marines that are looking out for me.
Anyway, back to the possible IED. The coyote threw the arty sim, and the "IED" was "detonated". The first time I came out on the course, one of the coyotes got out their cell phone and played "Domo Arigato, Mr. Robato" over our coyote radio, providing everyone with some amusement for the day. It was Saturday...what can I say.
Once the IED has been taken care of, it is time for the patrol to push on. The next portion of the patrol, the live-fire portion, will be the most difficult for me. The vehicle I am assigned to has a restriction on their weapon. Usually, the weapons are allowed to fire on their own. However, the mount for this weapon is missing a pin. It is safe to allow the weapon to fire, but to ensure safety on the range, we have told the gunner that he is only allowed to fire when a coyote is present, and that means me. That means before the gunner can fire, I have to sprint from my vehicle to his, climb up on the vehicle to where he can see me, and clear him to fire. The vehicle is not allowed to move while I am on it, so when he yells at me to get down, I will jump off the EXFOR vehicle, sprint to my own vehicle, and jump in as quickly as possible so we can follow the EXFOR vehicle and be ready for the next time they are ready to shoot their weapon.
In the middle of this, I will be making calls up to the lead coyote, telling him what the gunner is doing--is he shooting, reloading his weapon, taking care of a minor weapon malfunction, or are they getting ready to move? There are specific calls I am supposed to make to the lead coyote for each of these situations, and as we get ready for the live-fire, I rehearse the calls in my head. Soon enough, the lead coyote calls on the radio and "paints" to us that the first vehicle in the patrol is receiving fire from one location, and the second vehicle is receiving fire from a second location. I bring up my radio to the gunner and pass the information along--information he would be able to see for himself on a real battlefield.
We watch as the vehicle speeds up sightly to get in a position to fire. One they have stopped, our driver slams on his brakes, and I am already opening the door as the vehicle is stopping. I sprint over to the EXFOR vehicle and climb up so I can talk to the gunner.
"Is it okay?" he asks me. I am not sure what to say. I am not allowed to tell him to fire, I am only allowed to give him permission to fire. I settle on, "you're clear," but then notice that his weapon is focused in on a location that is not even a target. I need to describe to him what he would be seeing on a real battlefield, so that he can practice firing back at simulated insurgents, not a random point in the ground that he has chosen.
"Whoa, wait a second. Do you see over there?" I point towards the "insurgents" we want the gunners to identify, and describe it. He sees it, and turns his gun so he is pointing at the supposed insurgent location. He starts firing, and I key my mike. "Vic 2 active, target 1." This allows the lead coyote to maintain awareness of what each vehicle is doing, so he can ensure the range remains safe.
After a few seconds, the gunner yells, "coyote, get down." That is my cue to sprint back to my vehicle and prepare to move. As I sprint, I key my mike. "Vic 2 cold, moving." We continue--the gunner firing, me sprinting back and forth, until the vehicle has passed the safe limit for firing. I call him on the radio he has and tell him he is no longer able to fire. We catch our breath as the patrol re-organizes and prepares to continue on their route.
It doesn't take long before--BOOM! Dirt is thrown into the air as a coyote simulates an IED strike on a vehicle in the patrol. This one uses real explosives, so we are all careful to stay away from the area. A coyote runs over to the vehicle that was "hit" with the IED and "paints" to that vehicle that their vehicle is stuck, their radios no longer work, and some of the Marines in the truck are injured.
For the next hour, we observe as the Marines rehearse their drill, taking care of the simulated casualties. We call these simulated casualties "cherry-pickers". We don't use the word "casualty" unless someone has actually gotten injured during training, so our coyote corpsman goes over to the vehicle, "paints" the Marines' injuries, and then watches as they treat the simulated wounds. I watch, too, as they set up a landing zone for a MEDEVAC (medical evacuation) helicopter to land, debating inside my head just like before. What should I tell the lead coyote, what should I put in my notes, and what should I talk to the Marines about? I am not sure, and this time my guide is on a different part of the field, and unavailable for consult. I do my best while keeping in mind that my objective is to provide the most effective training for the Marines.
The Marines work efficiently to get the cherry-pickers onto the MEDEVAC, and the lead coyote calls an end to the exercise. We pause for safety precautions, then release the EXFOR. (It is up to them, but they will likely de-brief themselves, head back to their barracks, and clean their weapons). The coyotes re-group for their own debriefing. The lead coyote asks me what I learned today, and I have learned so much that I am not sure where to start. I offer a couple points, and he moves on to the next new coyote. The lead coyote discusses the day's exercise with us, and what we can do better to make the training more realistic, then tells us all to be safe as we drive back to the main part of the base.
Once we are back, I pull the sheets I have been marking off my clipboard and give them to another coyote. All of the sheets from each coyote evaluating each vehicle will be compiled into a single evaluation, which will be sent to the EXFOR so they have a written record of how they did and areas they can improve. We have already debriefed them informally, but the evaluation is a more formal document. Fortunately, I am not expected to stay as the more experienced coyotes discuss the formal evaluation, so I compile a shopping list and I head home.
In all, it was about thirteen hours from the time we left for the range until the time we returned. From the time we left until the time we returned, I was wearing my bright orange flak jacket with bullet-proof plates with my camelbak, eye protection, radio, and clipboard. Except for the de-brief periods, I was wearing my kevlar helmet (that's a rant for another time...not the fact that we have to wear it, but the fact that the straps don't fit over a regulation bun very well). By the time the day ends, my t-shirt is soaked with sweat, and I am fairly worn out from the long hours in the sun. My face and neck are still recovering from last weekend, when I neglected to wear sunscreen and received a pretty good sunburn as a result.
Make no mistake--I love my job. This is how I spent last weekend, both Saturday and Sunday, so even though I wasn't originally scheduled to go out today, I asked to go so I could get the additional experience. In the three weeks I've been here, I've seen a radically different side to all of the training I've had in the Marine Corps so far. I understand the methods and the purpose better. I've been able to ask questions to refine my own understanding of Marine Corps doctrine and offer advice to Marines that may help save their lives. The long hours and the sun don't seem like much to pay for the benefits. Yes, I am now exhausted--time to load the dishwasher and go to bed, even though it's not even 9pm.
But overall? I'll take it.
26 February 2011
Coyote
-n
1. A wolf-like animal that hunts around in the desert.
2. Slang for a person that smuggles Mexicans across the border into the US.
And then there's the standard USMC definition:
3. What we say instead of "tan" when we mean "that brown color that half of our stuff comes in" (the other half being olive green).
And then there's a definition that is specific to my new duty station:
4. A Marine that assists other units in completing their pre-deployment training. Typically wears a bright orange flak vest/camelbak instead of the traditional coyote brown flak vest/camelbak, and is frequently seen coming in the base gate at 0400.
I pulled up to the gate around 0420 this morning (in my own car in uniform, not drunk in the back of a cab, as is I'm sure the traditional method of going through any gate at any base at 0420 on a Saturday morning) and handed my military ID to the Marine standing watch. "Are you TTECG?" he asked (TTECG owns all the coyotes). "Yes, I am," I told him. He handed my ID back, saluted, and wished me a good day.
Today was day five with the unit and my first field exercise. I wasn't doing any teaching or assessing today; I'm still working to get a handle on what it is we do. (I asked one of the SSgts in the unit a question this afternoon, referring to him and the other coyotes as "you guys". He smiled. "It's 'we', now, ma'am.") But for a 13-hour workday on a Saturday, where I spent most of it standing around in the freezing cold wind, listening to classes and listening to Marines give other Marines advice on how to best employ their weapons and vehicles, it sure was a good day. When I drove down last Sunday, I was burned out and not really feeling ready to throw myself into a new job. After five days here, I'm excited about what I do again, excited to be working with my new co-workers, and happy to be a Marine again.
Will I have a lot of free time? No. Will it be crazy hot during the summer? Yes. But: will it be as bad as Afghanistan? No, they have A/C here. And: will I get to help train Marines and give them knowledge that will hopefully help save their lives? Yes. And: bonus. I get tomorrow off.
1. A wolf-like animal that hunts around in the desert.
2. Slang for a person that smuggles Mexicans across the border into the US.
And then there's the standard USMC definition:
3. What we say instead of "tan" when we mean "that brown color that half of our stuff comes in" (the other half being olive green).
And then there's a definition that is specific to my new duty station:
4. A Marine that assists other units in completing their pre-deployment training. Typically wears a bright orange flak vest/camelbak instead of the traditional coyote brown flak vest/camelbak, and is frequently seen coming in the base gate at 0400.
I pulled up to the gate around 0420 this morning (in my own car in uniform, not drunk in the back of a cab, as is I'm sure the traditional method of going through any gate at any base at 0420 on a Saturday morning) and handed my military ID to the Marine standing watch. "Are you TTECG?" he asked (TTECG owns all the coyotes). "Yes, I am," I told him. He handed my ID back, saluted, and wished me a good day.
Today was day five with the unit and my first field exercise. I wasn't doing any teaching or assessing today; I'm still working to get a handle on what it is we do. (I asked one of the SSgts in the unit a question this afternoon, referring to him and the other coyotes as "you guys". He smiled. "It's 'we', now, ma'am.") But for a 13-hour workday on a Saturday, where I spent most of it standing around in the freezing cold wind, listening to classes and listening to Marines give other Marines advice on how to best employ their weapons and vehicles, it sure was a good day. When I drove down last Sunday, I was burned out and not really feeling ready to throw myself into a new job. After five days here, I'm excited about what I do again, excited to be working with my new co-workers, and happy to be a Marine again.
Will I have a lot of free time? No. Will it be crazy hot during the summer? Yes. But: will it be as bad as Afghanistan? No, they have A/C here. And: will I get to help train Marines and give them knowledge that will hopefully help save their lives? Yes. And: bonus. I get tomorrow off.
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