Texas Nights - Book 13 of the Damned of the 2/19th

...It Ain't Training (Rough Draft)

15th FSB Area
Fort Hood
Texas, United States of America
10 October, 1991
0600

Lightning lit her face as Captain Jane watched as everyone formed up. Her eyes were hard as she squinted at them through the drops spilling off the rim of her Kevlar helmet. Off toward the air field a few miles away thunder boomed for a long moment. In front of her everyone shifted uncomfortably, waiting for her to speak as she stared at them.

The only sound was their movement, the thunder, and the patter of rain on the grass and the set up tents.

"As Chief Cromwell just said: Fail," she said, her voice a harsh growl. She pointed behind us, at where two men had stacked their rifles and been driven to the ER by people who could drive and were already on profile. "Two soldiers down. Almost twenty minutes."

"It's muddy, Captain," SSG Grates tried.

"Do you think we'll only deploy to where it is sunny and dry, Sergeant?" She asked, her voice still harsh. "If it was not raining, I would have had Chief Cromwell and some lower enlisted out here with a hose to water everything down. We need to train in adverse conditions, not just optimum conditions."

She began pacing back and forth, rain splashing under her boots, and when the lightning flared again it made her eyes glitter dangerously and the rain on her uniform, weapon, and gear sparkled like gems. I lit a cigarette watching her.

"Blackjack Brigade is the Rapid Ready Deployment Brigade, and we are the Forward Support Battalion tasked with supporting them, including acting as advance party," She stated. She suddenly turned and faced them. "There are even situations where they would only be tasked with providing security while we perform the necessary tasks of providing medical care in case of natural or man-made disaster or even a localized conflict."

She turned to me and pointed at them, "Chief Cromwell, at this moment how would you rate the unit's performance beyond a simple 'Fail' grading?"

I thought for a moment. Right now Captain Jane was providing the whip. I wasn't sure why, but I could tell that I was supposed to be the carrot to her stick.

"How long has it been since Charlie Company put up a tent?" I asked mildly.

"Since we returned from the Gulf and checked out and cleaned all the equipment when it returned from the Gulf," she admitted. "June, before I took over Charlie Company."

"Military tasks are a perishable skill, Ma'am," I said, "Teamwork is not something that just springs up because we are all in the military, it comes from practice, working together, and developing that teamwork. After a war, especially one that involves stop-loss like Desert Storm, a unit suffers massive amounts of personnel reassignments."

I waved at the assembled soldiers, "Which is why in the beginning units are in what's called the restructure phase. Not much really gets done, everyone's in a holding pattern, until the new personnel assignments shake down, until new missions are drawn up, and the commanders feel it's time to begin the refit phase."

I turned and faced Captain Jane, who still looked coldly ominous in the dark. "This is less to impress you or I, or any graders watching, but rather to show us where we need training. Out of everyone here, not a single person served with Charlie Company during Desert Storm outside of the Arms Room. Hardly any of these people knew each other before being assigned here. I doubt we can find three soldiers who served with one another in the same unit before now."

"Yes, they failed. But failure merely gives us a baseline of what our job is," I turned back and faced them. "It's my job, as the Training Officer, to get all of you ready to deploy," I went back to parade rest, "Your performance is a reflection, ultimately, on the leadership of this unit and my training schedule."