Real quick recap: during the Civil War both the North and South had POW camps in which the living conditions were extremely sub standard and over crowding was the norm. The South’s was located in Andersonville and had nearly 45,000 Northern soldiers enter its gates. Only 75% of those ever exited the gates. There are many stories to be told at this historical site and none that I can do justice with on the blog.

It was a 3 hour bus trip to the site so we watched the 1996 made for tv movie by the same name. I slept through most of the movie knowing it would be bastardized by Hollywood. It was. But I have to admit it was sobering to watch scenes in the movie and then step off the bus and see the exact same scenes in real life.

It was unfortunate that we didn’t have much time to explore the actual POW museum at Andersonville. They had quite an extensive display echoing from the Civil War all the way up to the present day war. Several of us recognized the poignancy of walking through those halls and knowing where we would be in just a few short weeks. But in usual military fashion, we had somewhere else to be and not enough time to get there.

On the ride back we stopped in Americus, GA for a real home cooked Southern meal. Or so they told us. I still refuse to call it a real Southern meal simply because they didn’t have fried okra on the buffet. I have NEVER had a Southern meal without fried okra. But I shouldn’t complain, the sweet tea, mashed potatoes and fried chicken were some of the best I or anyone else had ever had. Of course, that is 5 weeks of DFAC food getting in the way, but it was still pretty damn good.

The rest of the photos are up in the Gallery.

I notice a small bug land on my arm and plod around exploring the hairs and occasional mole. Yes, I’m that bored. Anyway, the bug has the structure of a medfly but is a bit smaller with wings about twice the size of his body. When I felt the breeze step up again, I thought for sure the fly wouldn’t be able to hold on and fly away. I thought wrong.

It was actually really cool to watch. He would turn himself into the wind and then raise both wings to complete vertical until they were touching. I assume this would kill all lift created by his wings as he’d just bear down every time the breeze came up. As soon as the breeze would die he’d start exploring again as if nothing had happened.

It will always be the small things in life that count.

Up at a quarter to four, no one cares because we know it’s the last day of this horrible mess. It’s already 80° by the time we form up in two columns and get ready to step. Of course, we have to stand around for another 20 minutes with no explanation because you just always do that in the military. I’m not complaining, it gives me some extra time to do some more stretching. This one’s going to hurt.

With the sun still down, we’re able to keep a pretty good stride going for what I think is the first two miles. It’s still relatively cool but some of that is due to the fact that you’re completely drenched in sweat. Water is drunk like it is going out of style but there is always more to be supplied if you’re out.

As the sun finally arrives, a light overcast persists and continues to keep it just cool enough as we hit “the hill.” The photo doesn’t do it justice of course and I don’t know what the grade is. It’s steep, that’s all you need to know. Head down and lean into it, that’s about all I can do. I really feel for the road guards who had to run it! That had to suck. We break for a couple minutes as we crest the hill and then get a motivational boost as we realize the primary TAC is sucking wind and hurting. And he’s not a slouch by any means.

We finally round the corner and can just make out 1st WOC as we hear the other classes begin to cheer and welcome us back in. Bodies aching, blisters long since popped and muscles starting to cramp as we enter the company with a time of 1 hour and 52 minutes. You can see the physical drain in our faces, but it was our minds that kept us going. One candidate’s body completely shut down as she crossed the line and had to be carried to the staging area. Paramedics were called, IVs were stuck and she was carted off. Another heat casualty, but she bounced back amazingly the very next day.

It took nearly two days for most everyone to recover. My calves ached no matter how much I stretched them, occasionally waking in the middle of the night to fight off a cramp. But hey, it’s not like we have our final physical fitness test in 4 days! Oh wait, yes we do.

It’s 3 am of Day 4 on the FLX, prior to WOCistan, and we all wake up to a simulated artillery round going off in the middle of the FOB (Forward Operating Base). I chuckle a bit as I realize we are “under attack” and my first thought is ‘wow, it’s still bloody hot out at 3 am!’ As we run through the drill of securing the base and calming down some itchy trigger fingers that like chasing shadows, another mortar attack ensues and we’re ordered down into the bunkers (tornado shelters). A couple minutes later the “all clear” is given and we conduct a head count. Everyone is accounted for.

We’re now ordered out of the bunkers, told to drop our gear off back at the tent and then form up for an AAR (After Action Review (a group critique)). Of course, as a requirement for formations you take another head count. Surprise, surprise, we’re one short. Never mind the fact that several of us saw the Primary TAC talking to the “missing candidate” right before the formation. Can’t imagine where he disappeared to. We take the heat from the TAC on accountability and giving false reports. Yet no one has given a false report, we stated the fact that he’s missing. Regardless, we lose our class guidon and colors as punishment. As we fall out and head back for the cots, everyone is pissed off and wanting to know where the missing candidate is. Lo and behold, he’s sitting on his cot where he was told to hide by the TAC during the formation.

What really irks me is that I know we’ll suddenly “earn” our guidon and colors back right before we step the next day for the 6 mile road march only because it would be embarrassing to the TACs if we march back into garrison with everyone waiting to greet us and have no colors displayed. Most everyone else sees through this as well and the “punishment” does nothing to build camaraderie or teamwork for a team that is already working well together. If anything, it destroys most of the credibility I and others have for the rule book the TACs are playing by.

Sure enough, as we get ready to step the next morning we suddenly earn the guidon and colors back. Uh huh. Standard eye rolling commences.

Since the Iraq war, fighting doctrine has turned more towards urban terrain, moving away from the open fields of WWII and triple canopy jungles of Vietnam. These days we train using MOUT (Military Ops on Urban Terrain), meaning we practice on little “villages” consisting of houses, vehicles and non-combatants/insurgents. In basic terms, you take several squads of infantrymen and clear each house one by one looking for booby traps and insurgents. It can be extremely difficult making the split decision between friend or foe as you enter a house while kicking furniture out of the way and clearing the rest of the room as 3 more of your squad mates follow in behind you. Throw in stairs and multiple rooms and things escalate quickly.

We affectionately named our village, “WOCistan.” You can blame it on the heat. In the end, it always ends up becoming a grown up version of Cowboys and Indians with the smell of cordite in the air and both sides claiming they killed the other first. What got interesting this time around were the TACs and their smoke grenades and simulated artillery rounds.

This first video shows how insane it can get when you enter a house:

Click here to view the embedded video.

The large boom you hear in this one is a simulated artie round going off on top of that metal container they are stacking on. As the group starts to run for the house listen for the automatic weapon that unloads on them and then look at the far left corner of the house. That would be yours truly playing OpFor and hitting every single one of them. Of course, they denied it.

Click here to view the embedded video.

The first guy was a Drill Sergeant, so you can pretty much guarantee he’s seen some nasty heat before. In fact, he was based at Ft. Huachuca. For those not in the know, the fort is located in the southeast corner of Arizona. The only thing there is heat! He fell on the first day while we were completing the leadership exercises. They took him to the fire station, stuck 3 I.V. bags in him and then moved him onto the E.R.

I also forgot to mention that if you get stuck it is an automatic recycle in the course, no questions asked. You do not pass go. You don’t collect $200. You get to start Warrant Officer Candidate School all over again from Day 1! Actually, it’s Day 12 which is the first day of the 4 week program, but that’s a long story and this one is already dragging on.

The second guy was an inter-service transfer from the Navy. He was struggling on the land nav course simply because you just don’t do a lot of land compass work in the Navy. Plus, it wasn’t an easy course by any means and that’s coming from someone who has run a lot of compass courses. The heat eventually got to him on his second attempt through the course. He only needed one I.V. bag but he had some major heat cramps. Regardless, they recycled him. We were all disappointed to see him go.

No one really cared what the actual temperature was, it was just too damn hot to care. I heard 103° at one point but I was more concerned with the humidity. That was the killer. I would go through 3 liters of water about every 2 to 3 hours, but because we were drinking so much water we had to down the salt packets from our MREs just to keep our electrolyte levels balanced. I got headaches the first two afternoons but never saw anything else problematic after that, thank God!

Then someone higher up finally realized it was hot, they decided to bring us back into garrison on the third afternoon. We were ordered to take a long shower and get some rest because we would be heading right back out to the FOB the next morning. It was kind of odd to come in for one night and then head back out but that’s what we did and let me tell you that shower and air conditioning never felt more welcoming.

We would find out later that the entire week we were out in the field the area was setting record breaking highs upwards of 105° with humidity levels still in the high 80s!

You know how hard it is to spot those suckers with a red lens? Let’s just say there were a lot of heeby jeeby dances that night. We had to constantly play rock, paper, scissors to see who would take point with the flashlight and a stick. A VERY LARGE STICK!

This is Wiggins, our class photographer, after he had run into too many webs. In the end it wasn’t even the spiders that got us. It would be the branch someone in front of you pushed out of the way and then let go of. Murphy’s law would dictate that said branch ALWAYS whack you right in the face. I guess there was a reason they made us wear the eye protection.

I actually went back to the very spot where I started the land nav course and headed off in the same general direction knowing it wouldn’t take long to enter their territory. Apparently, they’ve expanded that territory a little large bit. I think I took about 15 steps before snagging a web around my leg and arm. I wasn’t concerned at first only because it felt like a normal web, invisible and thin. You know when you’ve snagged a weaver’s web, you will actually feel the pull and friggin’ HEAR the “twang” of the strand snapping. So I started searching for the offending non-event spider that I entangled. I found him dangling about 12 inches between my legs and rapidly making a climb for an area he wasn’t invited too. I let him know with the end of my tripod. He didn’t think that was very funny as he crawled away. I kid you not, three rather hefty whacks of the tripod did not deter this little black and white guy. I have no idea what he was, but I digress…

After that little encounter I began to realize I wasn’t properly dressed for this little excursion wearing shorts and a t-shirt. Or that’s the excuse I told myself for not hanging around much longer. I took about 5 more steps and saw her less than 3 feet from me. I would have walked into this one as well had I not stopped. You laugh, but it’s difficult to actually spot them hanging between the trees because your eyes focus further out then right between the trees.

She’s not as big as I would have liked but the heeby jeebies prevented me from trudging deeper into the forest only because I knew the big ones were out there and I couldn’t see them. Plus, as I finished up this one’s photo shoot, which by the way she seemed more than happy to pose for, I noticed another one not 5 feet away on another set of trees. Remembering that sinking feeling of being entrapped by these gals I decided to call it a day.

Call me a wuss all you want, but until you come out for a visit and get your own face to face with one of these vamps I could really care less what you think. If you’re still snickering, on the drive into the base yesterday morning I think they were on a “display of force” mission. Every 10 to 20 yards or so, right along the forest edge, were 5 to 10 foot webs with a black and gold darling sitting right in the middle of each. This continued for a good mile on both sides of the road!  We’ve never seen anything before or since. Very awe inspiring. Very creepy as well.

As usual, the rest of the photo shoot is up in the gallery. There will be more to come just as soon as I can build the gumption back up again or get someone to go with me.

I did have something else to deal with on this course. We all did. But I want you to open a new browser window and go to Wikipedia first so you can appreciate this story that. Much. Better. You there? Type in “golden silk orb-weaver” and take a good long look at that bad boy girl. Now spread your hand out and place it about an inch from your face. That is the exact size and location of the first weaver I met today about five minutes into the land navigation course. I stopped to check my azimuth against the map, looked up and she was sitting in her web staring at me eye to eye. I say she because as is often the case with arachnids the male is a sixteenth the size of the female. Anyway, after shaking off the heeby jeebies, I noticed these weavers were EVERYWHERE. You think I’m exaggerating, but I’m not! You would literally take 10 to 15 steps and then have to navigate around another cluster of weavers.

Now you’re asking yourself, “come on, these things can’t be that bad?” Oh, but they are. Somehow they have the ability to span a web across trees anywhere from 3 to 6 feet wide, and then sit in the middle of them which places them roughly 5 to 6 feet in the air. Conveniently right at face level. Have I mentioned that they were EVERYWHERE yet? The best part came when you’d find a web in front of you, turn to the left and find a web there too, turn to the right and find another freakin’ web there as well and be almost afraid to look behind you because you just knew there would be another web impossibly behind you. I’m serious people, these things were EVERYWHERE!

Oh, but I always save the best for last! As I mentioned earlier I didn’t NOTICE the spiders until five minutes into the course and because I’ve subtly mentioned that the weavers were EVERYWHERE, I had apparently already walked through a couple webs. I remember feeling a spiderweb strand across my face at one point but paid it no mind because I didn’t know what I was up against…yet. After receiving that little face to face meet and greet and waiting for my heart to dislodge itself from my throat, I took a step back and began to realize just how many of these spiders were around. Then I remembered the strand across my face. And then I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. Something crawling up my shoulder. Slowly. Methodically. Something black and yellow. Something that made me fling my clipboard at my shoulder while also scattering my M16, my hat, my compass, all my paperwork and my eye protection all while doing that heeby jeeby dance for a couple seconds. You ALL know the dance I’m talking about. IT HAD GIRTH, people!

After I picked up my dignity along with everything else that had been yard saled all over the forest floor, I couldn’t find the weaver I had just flung off my shoulder. Nor could I find any others on me, but that didn’t calm my nerves any. The only thing I can say proudly is that I didn’t scream like a little girl. Nope, the guy about 50 meters to my right took care of that about 2 minutes later. Stupid spiders!

The photo was taken at the end point of the course.  It doesn’t do it justice, but we’re soaked to the bone in sweat. What the photo does get right is the fatigue in my face. One of the other “fun” little challenges with the heat was that because of all the sweat your laminated map would inevitably get wet and smear, if not completely erase, your waypoints. So you were constantly re-plotting points. This all occurred before 9 a.m., that’s how bad the humidity and heat was!

We got bussed out today and ran around doing those leadership events that are nearly impossible to complete in the time allotted. 10 minutes from start to finish with a rotation of new leader on each event. After eleven of those I had gone through 6 liters (yes, liters) of water and probably 3 liters of sweat. Have I mentioned the humidity down here yet?

Once at the FOB (Forward Operating Base (camp site)) we were pretty damn pissed to find our tents had no air conditioning and right next door the kids just out of Basic did. I’ve done a lot of camping in all kinds of weather but I have never been as miserable trying to sleep as I was during this week.