Well, I said earlier that I would go back and fill in some of the gaps from training... So here goes. My arrival and the initial Hell I was subjected to was described in an earlier blog, so I won't go into that again. Our first week was spent up on "Custer Hill" in a relatively central part of Fort Riley. Mind you, Fort Riley is about 7 million square miles of nothing, okay, maybe only six million. This week was comprised mostly of administrative check-in, in processing and briefings. Pretty boring, and aside from it being very cold and VERY windy, things weren't too bad.
Then we moved down to Camp Funston. In order to make our training somewhat realistic, this section of the base has been built to simulate a FOB (forward operating base) - much like the one where I currently reside. My team moved into a 40 man, open bay barracks. In case that isn't descriptive enough, this is a large room, about 25 feet by 75 feet with ten bunk beds on each wall. There were two tall "wall lockers" next to each rack for us to put our stuff in. Luckily for us, there were only ten of us. We shared this bay with one other team, and for the first few weeks we also shared with some very interesting Special Operations types. I mentioned them previously, but will discuss them in more detail some other time...
Then we moved down to Camp Funston. In order to make our training somewhat realistic, this section of the base has been built to simulate a FOB (forward operating base) - much like the one where I currently reside. My team moved into a 40 man, open bay barracks. In case that isn't descriptive enough, this is a large room, about 25 feet by 75 feet with ten bunk beds on each wall. There were two tall "wall lockers" next to each rack for us to put our stuff in. Luckily for us, there were only ten of us. We shared this bay with one other team, and for the first few weeks we also shared with some very interesting Special Operations types. I mentioned them previously, but will discuss them in more detail some other time... Camp Funston is maybe 1/2 mile by a 1/2 mile completely congested with "temporary" facilities. All of our classrooms were the equivalent of double-wide trailer homes, split into four classrooms, or three and an office. We often referred to our classes, and/or briefs as "death by power point" as we would sit in a room for hours on end watching slide after slide after slide after slide... You get the picture (pun intended....). Then once in awhile there would be a funny video, or a really serious video, with IED's demolishing Armored vehicles... Firefights in Baghdad, etc. One guy in my class spent six months in Sadr City which was one of the worst cities in Iraq and was engaged in daily fire fights for almost 4 months. There is a book about his company which I meant to buy and have him sign for me. Guess I'll have to do that thru Amazon.
Anyway, back to camp life. I cannot begin to express my disstain for the individuals that designed our training program. I won't even try to explain the number of wasted man hours we spent sitting around doing absolutely nothing. I'll have to go back and find the letter I wrote describing the range day - it's too painful a memory for me to even consider rewriting that horrible episode. The best way I can describe my training is with an analogy. Let's say that for several days I spoke to you in Spanish (or, if you speak Spanish - how 'bout Hungarian - pretty sure none of you speak that...) So I speak to you, maybe I should say "at you," for a few days about a particular subject, then hand you a test. Once you've failed this test miserably, I will sit down with you, still speaking some Hungarian, some English, and explain how badly you did. What are you supposed to take away from this? Nothing more really than a check in the block. This is done simply for the fact that the senior brass can go before a Senate Committee and claim, "Every single one of our Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen and Marines were trained in Convoy Tactics, Combat Life Saving, Crew Served Weapons, IEDs, Foot Patrols, blah blah blah blah..." And the truth is, we were "EXPOSED" to this, but NOT trained. 
Example: One day we were given the mission to rendezvous at the prisoner holding area, embark on a foot patrol to the North to link up with our ANA (Afghan Nat'l Army) counterparts at a TCP (traffic control point) [see what I mean about "Hungarian?" Everything is an acronymn with these people], but that we needed to be aware that there was a mortar pit somewhere to the West of the TCP. Well, we headed out in our 75 freakin' pounds of extra gear at approx 09:00 for about a 1/4 mile up the road, before a "stolen" Hummvee sped around the corner shooting at us from a M240 machine gun mounted in it's turret (pictured above, but w/ me at the trigger, of course). One of our observers tapped two guys and said that they were hit. Now we begin the Combat Life Saving exercise. Once our two members are properly bandaged and its determined that they can still walk, we leave the road... oh wait, the Hummvee came cruising past for one more full volley... Okay, back to the march, we decide to leave the road and venture into the woods, opting to attack the mortar pit prior to our rendezvous w/ ANA.
So here we are wandering thru the woods, when VERY LOUD concussions start happening all around us. I'm told by one observer that if the enemy starts lobbing mortars at you that you should move toward it, running in 25 to 50 meter sprints - two at a time. Thanks, might've been a nice piece of information to have BEFORE the mortars started raining on top of us?!?! At this point the guy who is supposed to be in charge of the team decides to STOP making ANY decisions whatsoever... The dynamic that we decided to operate under was two five man teams, Red and Blue. I was Blue Team Leader and Red team's leader was also the assault team commander [sound Hungrian to you?]. Another guy, that decided he knows more than everyone else - cuz in reality he did - starts barking out orders.
I'm just trying to maneuver my team thru this freakin' forest, and of course we wound up with worse terrain, more trees, bushes, fallen logs criss-crossing our path, not to mention, the longer route around to the mortar pit. Red team engages the enemy first, so we can hear shooting, and "Alpha Male" still yelling orders as we push thru. Now he's yelling at me to get my team into position. I'm about to die from heat exhaustion and can barely walk... Sweat is dripping into my eyes, and my goggles are fogged from the persperation, so I can barely see.
I continue to direct my team, leap-frogging one or two at a time, when out of nowhere two bad guys - actually a bad guy and a bad girl posing as Bonnie and Clyde, okay, not really cuz they were dressed in sheets - and the only thing that indicated they weren't ghosts and I had NOT in fact died of Heat Stroke was the AK-47s they were pointing our direction... The guy on my right pumped about seven rounds (that's about 5 too many) into the woman on the right. I dropped to a knee and put two in the guys head to my left. We moved out... Sounds WAY cooler than it was. A little way further we hear Red team re-engage, but "Alpha Male" is still yelling commands - no word now from "mute boy" for at least 20 minutes. I can see that they're kind of pinned down, but I keep my team pressing ahead, cuz I can see another mortar pit up ahead. 
We assault what appears to be a large metal shipping container that was being used as a shelter, and we're almost all close in using it for cover when the observer drops a sim-round, which goes BANG!! - really loud - and tells my guy that he's been hit by shrapnel in the gut. I call for covering fire, take one other guy and run over and drag this guy back to the shelter. I have another guy assess his injuries and start administering aid. We try, horribly, to get out a "9-line" radio call for a medevac. Meanwhile I'm trying to get in touch with mute boy, but after about seven attempts I think he's probably dead (simulated, of course or maybe from heat exhaustion) and send a runner to link up with Red team. Red team moves forward to our position, my guy dies in the meantime and we assault the final mortar pit mutually. Later I found out that mute boy was not dead, not even injured... Turns out that he was(is) just mentally incapacitated (not simulated, of course)
So, we get down to our AAR (After Action Report) - this should be called the YSR (You Suck Royally) - debrief where the observers, with acute detail and exceptional memory, describe every last aspect of how badly we did. No bad deed goes unnoticed, in other words. Taking into consideration that we had never done this, I thought we'd done a bang-up job. Boy, was I wrong... We were informed that the entire group probably would've been wiped out... We never met the objective of meeting up with the ANA. Our 9-line report never went out - wait, yes it did, it just stunk and they couldn't hear us... I think I passed out at this point...
Needless to say, I had major issues with the training occurring after the exercise - in the form of a critique which could almost be summed up in three words, "you guys suck." The point of this, though, is that NONE of us will be doing any foot patrols, assaulting mortar pits or running around the woods in 80 lbs of heavy ballistic armor. I think I was more at risk of death running around those woods than I am sitting here writing Blogs for several hours a day...
Another typical thing was putting the important training in the wrong order... We did MOUT, which I can't remember what that stands for, but its where "fire teams" consisting of four men clear buildings, one room at a time (also pictured above). We actually did this for several days, and the last day we did it with paint pellets and two teams assaulted another team in a small village. It was actually really fun. Then three days later we did training on close quarters weapon handling and shooting on the move... Shouldn't that have come FIRST?!?!!!
I said before, "don't confuse the Army with common sense." Even the Army guys were upset, amazed, disgruntled, what-have-you. Mostly, I think, they were embarrassed. Still, I stand by my conviction that "the Army packed 14 days of QUALITY training into a ten week course."
Anyway, here's some cool pictures - for your viewing pleasure... (uh, most of them are above...)
