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

...It Ain't Training (Final)

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.

I'd seen officers behave like this before. It was never a good sign. Captain Jane was usually mild and appeared to guide the company with a gentle hand.

Now she was using a whip.

"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. "Our mission can range from having to put immediate medical care area for a mass-cal situation to providing mobile medical care for the combat elements of Blackjack Brigade in a rapidly evolving and emerging situation."

Careful, Ma'am, you'll overload them with information or make them feel overwhelmed by the mission.

"Speed, flexibility, and efficiency is what Blackjack needs from Charlie Company," 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, I had a feeling, 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, taking a page from Captain Jane's book and how I used to act when I was a simple medic for Atlas.

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

"Military tasks are a perishable skill, Ma'am," I said, taking a line from Colonel John Henry (NR), "Precision, skill at tasks, 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."

"It isn't their fault, Ma'am," I waved at the assembled soldiers, "After a war, 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 from PERSCOM shake down, until new missions are drawn up by the DoD, new TO&E is developed by Corps or Division, and the commanders feel it's time to begin the refit phase."