SeanFromCanada's Blog

Originally posted on 10.05.13

… the attack was on.

As we moved down the embankment, through the long grass and thickets, one of our guys fired his weapon from the top of the gravel hill…to keep the enemy’s heads down. We moved far too slowly for my comfort (if someone was actually firing at me). When walking down the hill, we were slowed by the inability to see our feet through all the long grass and waste high weeds…it was an extremely vulnerable position.

We finally got to a point on the hill where we could spread out (as we were originally instructed) and start to actually fire our weapons. We were to move with our partner, one firing 3-4 shot bursts at the enemy, while the other moved forward and then knelt down and fired 3-4 shots…until we were where we wanted to be. Good plan…wonder where my partner went?

It was truly amazing how fast the plan fell apart. We were finally in a spot where our plan was supposed to pick up, and I had no idea where my partner was. I’m guessing it took 5 – 6 minutes before our whole plan was…screwed. I’ve read a lot of special forces and military books in my day, and they often speak to this syndrome…the confusion of war. I guess that’s why these guys practice so much…

I improvised and called to the wandering soul beside me to pair up. We worked forward, as taught, and I could see our group was forming up in the ‘line’ designed on the dirt road before all this craziness began. The hardest part of the whole shoot-move-shoot-move thing was lining up the sight to actually see the target I was trying to hit. It was unbelievably hard to go from moving forward to having to stop completely. Especially, while much of my focus was on where exactly I should place my eye near the scope to avoid the ‘fog’ or ‘blur’ I described in The Firing Line. Almost every time I went from moving into the shooting position, it took me 5-6 seconds to find the target in the scope (a target who was clearly making himself visible so we could all shoot at him). WAY TOO LONG if this was the real deal…

The whole time we were moving down the hill to the base of the camp, the noise was (once again) the force that dominated my senses. Smoke grenades were being detonated and the sound of gun fire was everywhere …it was a fantastic journey into the chaos of a battle. I was so out of my element!

As we reached the base of the hill, the group assembled behind the first building (which was actually a couple of old shipping containers that could be moved around to present different training scenarios). We were instructed to change out our clips, so we were full for our next assault. At that moment, I realized I had absolutely no sense of how many rounds in my current magazine I’d fired. I certainly wasn’t counting.

Hmmmm, that’s not good. I’d been paying attention all day – Paratroopers don’t waste ammo. I repeat, they don’t waste ammo. If I change out this clip and put in a fresh one, am I able to put the clip back in the gun?…or will it jam (and waste ammo)? Should I assume that I have a fair amount of ammo left in my current clip, making it worth continuing on without a change?…knowing I’ll have to reload before everyone else…I’ll make a call, but if this was real, I would be thinking a great deal about this decision…

I decided that because of my general inability to focus my scope on the actual target, I hadn’t fired more than 8-10 rounds…leaving me to completely guess that I had about 20 left…I decided to stick with the current clip.

The first guy started firing around the corner of the building while our team moved in pairs out into the open and up the street. I was concentrating on my eye-to-sight relationship to make this count. The sweat was pouring into my eyes, and my helmet was pushing against my firing glasses, but I was sighting in and firing with control. We moved up the street with confidence… until I ran out of ammo. It’s a sickening sound, that hollow click. I decided not to panic, and simply see how fast I could change the magazine out for another one.

Click the release, shit. The magazine’s on the ground, hilarious. I now need to bend down to pick up my empty magazine, in the middle of the street while I’m being fired upon by the enemy…while my partner keeps going. Wow, that was uncool….what a disaster!

I fumbled around picking up my empty and now dirty magazine. I struggled with my vest straps to pull out the new magazine. I had the new magazine upside down, making it slow and awkward to put into the awaiting rifle. I struggled to push the new magazine into the weapon. I was further slowed by the vest pocket that would receive my empty magazine…I would have been dead 15 times over as I was standing in the middle of the street….fortunately, this was just an exercise.

Seconds were minutes, minutes were months…and I see why the training focuses on saving the seconds.

I chose to forgive myself for such a ridiculous blunder and to move forward with my team. I didn’t even arrive last at our meet up point…don’t know what happened with the others to cause them delay – maybe they thought to do the same thing I did? We assembled for the final push and formed a plan to clear around the building we were currently all huddled against.

I ended up in the position closest to the corner, and therefore would be the one to lean out to lay down the covering fire. As I did, 3 team members ran directly in front of my actually firing weapon. I couldn’t believe it…this really wasn’t easy and obvious. Since I was riding only my second magazine, (and everyone else had just put in their third), I decided I could afford some ‘automatic time’…once my team members were clear, I switched to automatic and let loose…what a great 3 seconds…so satisfying!

I was proud of my reload from my second clip to my third. I was on the move, catching up to the last soldier who had just passed me, and I didn’t even drop my magazine (phewf – what a relief)! We were now familiar with the process of rounding a corner. This time, I slipped on the inside of my covering fire team member. We were moving in a semi-coordinated manner.

We fired, moved and gained ground. We were now seeing the dead bodies of our enemy laying out in doorways and on the street. I appreciated the touch, as the real Paratroopers humbly lay in the gravel, as our cast and crew of Looney Tunes hurricaned past. The battle was almost won.

As we rounded the last corner, we were told to expend the rest of our ammo on the targets. There we stood, across the width of the street, firing at any target that presented itself. I was shelled by the cartridges being expelled from my partner beside me, it was loud and it was nothing short of awesome.

Once the final rounds were shot, there was a moment of silence. It wasn’t long, and it wasn’t acknowledged, but there was a pause between war and peace. It was there, the transition from on to off, and we all blinked within it.

Out of breath and sweating profusely, we high fived and rejoiced in the greatness of the experience …we were elated, drained and drenched.

As we walked back towards the hill, I could see spent rounds everywhere. We thanked the enemy soldiers sincerely as we passed them, letting them know just how much we enjoyed and appreciated this opportunity. They smiled, hopefully feeling respected, valued and admired.

We assembled back at the LAVs (Light Armored Vehicles) for a few photos and to drive back to the base. The bumps, scrapes and physical exhaustion was starting to set in as we assembled for the pictures. The buzz of the event was still carrying us high, but the ‘red alert’ sense was over and that provided the first opportunity to start to feel just how physical that event actually was. I was definitely going to be sore in the morning!

As we loaded back into the LAVs, I took one last look back at the camp we’d just raided. I didn’t expect to see anything in particular. I just wanted to take a mental picture of the scene.

For me, this wasn’t just a highlight of the day, it was an experience that will never be forgotten.