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After a classroom lecture on the M-9 pistol, soldiers practice their aim in a simulator.
Pfc. Will Howe (top) helps Spc. Matt Phillips lift packs.
Silhouetted by spotlights, National Guardsmen from the Fredericksburg Armory assemble in the pre-dawn dampness at Camp Shelby, Miss., for a bus ride to training at Hurricane Point, a simulated forward operating base.
Sgt. Matthew Winstanley (left) and Spc. Thomas Dickson search a civilian playing the role of an Arab resident in an exercise outside the wire of Forward Base Hurricane.
1st Lt. Ryan Kelly (center) and 3rd Platoon bond |
By RUSTY DENNEN
CAMP SHELBY, Miss.--At 4 o'clock in the morning, dense fog shrouds Base Camp Arrowhead like a ghostly veil.
It's so hot and humid even the mosquitoes are noticeably absent. Two hours before the sun climbs over the horizon, 3rd Platoon prepares for another day of training.
Some sit on the edge of their cots, heads in hands, trying to grab a few more minutes of sleep; others change their sweat-soaked T-shirts and briefs and pull on their khakis and heavy body armor.
"Another day that's gonna suck," one soldier jokes. No one laughs. "Like 'Groundhog Day,'" another pipes up, referring to the movie in which Bill Murray relives the same day over and over.
After getting into uniform, and toting packs and standard-issue M4 rifles, the men head over to the mess tent for a breakfast of eggs, hash browns, sausage, fruit, cereal, milk and coffee. There are no chairs; the soldiers eat at chest-high wooden tables because they don't have time to linger.
Unlike most active military units, the National Guard is a cross section of America--people who left jobs, businesses, school and professions to serve their country.
About a quarter of the men and women in the 3rd Battalion, 116th Infantry Regiment of the Virginia National Guard--which includes Delta Company's three platoons--hail from the Fredericksburg area. The rest are from armories around Virginia. Delta Company has no women in its ranks.
Overnight, the pop-pop-pop of small-arms fire and throaty thump-thump of 50-caliber machine guns echoed around the camp, punctuated by the occasional boom of an explosion.
Arrowhead houses about 600 National Guard soldiers from all over the country, including those from the Fredericksburg Armory.
At 5:30, 3rd Platoon falls into formation near an old diesel Blue Bird bus that will take them to Hurricane Point, a forward operating base 20 minutes away on the immense expanse of fields and forest that is Camp Shelby Joint Forces Training Center.
At 177,000 acres, the post is almost three times the size of Fort A.P. Hill in Caroline County.
Commanded by Capt. James Tierney of Charlottesville, Delta Company left Fredericksburg for Camp Shelby on June 26 in an emotional send-off ceremony at the University of Mary Washington.
As their families go on with their lives, the men have been honing the skills they will need to survive whatever they will face half a world away.
Their last week of training was a final test of their readiness. They finished Sept. 6, had a week of leave, then ship out next week.
The unit is headed to Kuwait--a relatively safe destination for U.S. troops--to guard a seaport, a conduit for supplies for the 150,000-plus troops in Iraq.
With President Bush's troop surge, it's possible their mission could change. Some other Guard units from the Fredericksburg Armory are headed into Iraq.
MAKING IT REALAt 6 a.m. 3rd Platoon piles onto the bus. Just outside the barricades, guard towers and concertina wire, the bus rolls past the "Iraqi village" of Al Abarq. To make the training realistic, the area is peopled with Iraqi civilians and insurgents--some real Iraqis, some local Mississippians--all role-players supplied by a government contractor. The soldiers train as they will fight. The Army calls it "theater immersion."
Bumping along dusty gravel roads, the bus passes Ar Rawdatayn, another fake Iraqi village. It sits outside Hurricane Point.
Plywood houses and empty shipping containers resemble mud houses and a mosque. Graffiti are painted on ramshackle buildings along narrow streets: "Killer, Killer, Killer, USA."
A soldier with a rifle approaches the bus from behind a barrier. He's backed up by three men in blue shirts and carrying AK-47s playing Kuwaiti police officers.
"How many in the bus?" the guard at the checkpoint asks.
It's packed, 26 men. Behind a plastic jersey wall is another guardsman toting an M240 machine gun. All weapons are loaded with blank rounds.
Hurricane Point is a mirror of the Arrowhead base, an 11-acre complex of tents and latrines, mess hall, tent-showers, first-aid station and command post, surrounded by razor wire and guard towers.
A GOOD DAYTierney is in the command post with his lieutenant, Ryan Kelly, other staff, and representatives of a Colorado-based Guard unit, responding to the day's scenarios. This day, Delta Com- pany's job is protecting the area inside the wire perimeter. Other days they are the QRF--Quick Reaction Force--that responds to trouble outside the gate in fleets of sand-colored Humvees.
Spc. Robert Griffin, 32, of Chester test fires the turret-mounted machine gun, the hot brass shell casings cascading into the cab below, accompanied by an "EEEEE-HAWWWW" from the other men.
"This is the pulse of the operation," Tierney says. He's watching what his lieutenants are doing, sometimes offering suggestions and criticism.
"What we're doing here is making decisions on how to deploy the troops" in exercises scheduled in the battalion headquarters at Arrowhead and radioed here. They never know what's coming.
It might be civilians entering the compound who must be searched and cleared, insurgents taking photos or sniping nearby, or an IED--improvised explosive device--in Ar Rawdatayn or along the access road.
"I try to teach them to think," Tierney says, "to respond to a dynamic environment. If they're able to, it's been a good day. If not, next time they can react differently, so when they get [overseas] it's not the first time they confront something.
"When something is developing, it's stressful. There's a lot of people talking and you're making decisions on the fly. I want my platoon leaders to be responsive and reactive."
The men grab MREs--meals ready-to-eat--when they can. By early afternoon, they've already put in a full day, their faces streaked with dust and sweat.
A call crackles over the radio. Two Arabs are at the front gate, seeking help. They want a medic for another man whose leg was blown off.
They men yell urgently at an interpreter, who relays the request to the commanders inside. It's one of 18 scenarios played out before noon, as observers watch and critique the soldiers' response.
Soon, Humvees are sent to the village to help.
Every exercise is tense and exhausting. Temperatures hover in the mid-90s; the troops are weighed down by 60 to 70 pounds of body armor, rifle, helmet, water, ammunition and packs.
Each platoon pulls an 8-hour shift.
Each man consumes a quart of water an hour. In Kuwaiti and Iraqi deserts, temperatures soar well over 120 degrees, though the humidity is low.
"Today was a good day," radio operator Kurt Martin, 19, of Danville says.
"Nothing got too messed up."
Rusty Dennen: 540/374-5431
