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frorider6
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As you guys can tell, I'm trying to make this the repository for all questions and information regarding Army Rangers.
Here's a cool article I found on Ranger School.
Army Ranger School: All they can be ... and more
Part One of Two
September 7, 1999 — Glassy-eyed, I sat at my computer trying to type. I wanted to capture some of the images of the previous 17 hours while they were still fresh in my mind.
But I was tired. I put my head in my hands. I needed to organize my thoughts. There were so many.
I returned my eyes to the blank screen. Then I noticed my hands. They were green. I forgot that I hadn't yet removed all of the camouflage paint from my face.
"So when did Army Ranger training become a sport?" asked one of my colleagues. The name of this column is Sporting Life, after all.
"Well, we did some hiking," I said, too tired to explain more. "That could be considered a sport."
And we did hike — Ranger style — with little food, even less sleep, big guns and an enemy that could strike at any moment.
War isn't a sport. It's life or death.
Are the students at the Army Ranger school in Dahlonega, Ga. athletes? I don't know.
I'm just glad they're on our side.
0545 hours, arrive at Camp Frank D. Merrill, Dahlonega: Nestled in the seemingly serene mountains of Northeast Georgia sits Camp Merrill, home of phase two of the U.S. Army Ranger School and training grounds for some of the fiercest soldiers the world has ever seen.
The brutal 61-day Ranger Course, which begins at Fort Benning in Columbus and ends at Camp James E. Rudder in Florida, attracts the best the Army has to offer. It is designed to enhance the soldier's ability to plan and execute small-unit combat missions in wooded, lowland swamp and mountainous environments.
The course is intentionally tough, designed to simulate the extreme mental and physical stress of battle ... and then some. Many students don't make it. Some of them elect to be "recycled" and try the course again. Others simply give up.
Upon completing the course and passing all of its requirements, students earn the right to wear the prestigious Ranger tab. The tab, a small green patch that reads "RANGER," is modest but it signifies the adorned is the epitome of the U.S. infantryman.
Now Ranger-qualified, the graduates return to their original duties in the Army, prepared to assume a leadership role in any combat situation, trained to call upon the savage tactics of the Army Ranger when necessary.
0553, contact with Private Patrick E. Heffernan: My mission for the day was to "go walking" with Bravo Company on its field training exercise (FTX) in the mountains. Heffernan's mission was to go with me.
We quickly breezed through the technicalities. I signed countless waivers and was outfitted with a battle-dress uniform, a patrolling cap, boots and a 30-pound rucksack.
I bombarded Hef with questions. I still wasn't exactly sure what to expect. He responded briefly, politely.
"I'm sorry to rush you, sir, but this is my last day and I want to ride in a helicopter," said Heffernan, 23, of Tyrone, Ga., a soldier in the Ranger Regiment who was about to receive a medical discharge.
0730, "camo-ing up": There is an art to applying camouflage to the face. Use the dark end of the camo stick first. Color in the forehead, take it down the nose, then the chin. Draw from nose to ear, from nose down the neck. Fill in the rest with lime green.
"Did I do all right?" I asked Hef.
"Roger. You're good to go," he said.
0752, helicopter ride to Chestnut LZ: The roar of a UH-60 Blackhawk is unmistakable.
"Sounds like our ride," said one of the Ranger Instructors, or RIs, with whom we were heading out to meet the students. We turned our backs as the chopper churned the air around us.
In the helicopter we had to don helmets, called kevlars. Mine was a little small. In my front pocket I had to carry two things: my signed waiver and my driver's license, which would serve as my dog tag if we crashed. That hadn't happened since 1975, I was assured.
We elevated quickly and I held the ill-fitting kevlar to my head tightly. Through the open door to my side, I watched the lush mountains of the Chattahoochee National Forest speed by below while my helmet's chin strap flailed wildly in the wind.
0803, infiltrate student patrol base: I was wondering why we were whispering.
We hiked from the helicopter deep into the woods. The RIs were kneeling and whispering to each other. I didn't know where we were.
"Don't you see the students?" Hef asked me.
"What students?" I responded quizzically.
I didn't see it, but the Bravo Company was there. There were 40 of them, just 20 yards away, quietly hidden in the woods before me. A large circle of them lay on their stomachs behind machine guns, scanning the forest for the enemy. In the middle, the rest took care of other patrol base activities.
They all were trying hard to stay awake.
They had been in this location for some six hours, in the mountains on this FTX for nearly three days. Most were working on less than two hours of sleep.
"It gets tough," said Ranger student Antoine Overstreet from behind his machine gun. "Even when the sun's up it's still hard staying awake and staying focused. Last night we had guys falling asleep standing up."
There was no time for sleeping now, however. The students had received the day's mission: to strike an enemy logistics base just a few kilometers away.
The planning started immediately, even though the raid wasn't scheduled for another 12 hours.
Army Ranger School: Preparing for 'two minutes of fury'
Part Two of Two
September 14, 1999 — It sounds violent because it is: U.S. Army Rangers are highly trained killing machines.
From the Revolutionary War to Somalia, Rangers have contributed their unique combat skills to virtually every major military operation in U.S. history — and even more "minor" ones that the general public never hears about.
They usually go in first. They surprise. They kill. They destroy. They disappear.
"We're the monsters under your bed at night," whispered my guide, Private Patrick E. Heffernan, with a shifty smile as we walked through Bravo Company's morning patrol base deep in the Chattahoochee National Forest near Camp Frank D. Merrill in Dahlonega, Ga.
For the soldiers of Bravo Company, this was Day 16 of the 21-day Mountain Phase of Army Ranger School, and Day 37 overall of the punishing 61-day course.
0923 hours, planning begins for nighttime raid: When I asked Ranger student David White how many days he had been in the woods, he had to take a moment to think ... and even then he wasn't sure. So I asked him about something that was on the minds of all the students — sleep.
"I got two hours last night," said White, 20, of Vine Grove, Ky., as he colored his face with his camo stick. "The night before that? I don't remember."
This was, in fact, White's third day in the woods. But forgive him for seeming a bit confused. The previous five weeks had been a jumble of guns, sweat and trees — and the two hours of sleep he got the night before were likely the most he'd had in days.
For White, the three weeks of intense combat training and physical endurance tests at Fort Benning in Columbus are ancient history. The strenuous week of mountaineering exercises on Mount Yonah, just north of Cleveland, Ga., a foggy memory.
All that is on White's mind is today's mission: to raid an enemy logistics base at 2000 hours.
1025, food and ammunition resupply: While the rest of the platoon continued the long, meticulous planning process, a dozen or so students, machine guns in ready position, hiked to a nearby clearing where the helicopter drop took place.
Small groups like this are most vulnerable to enemy attack. And the enemy is always out there, somewhere, tracking the students. Called the opposition force, or OPFOR, and comprised of Army soldiers based at Camp Merrill, they can strike at any time.
"Watch out for the Rangers," Captain Mark Landes, a Ranger Instructor, warned me and Heffernan as we milled about outside the patrol base. "They'll shoot you up in a heartbeat. OPFOR's been in here so many times, I've found they tend to get trigger happy."
The students' guns shoot blanks, by the way. But they sound real. And that's enough to give you a heart attack.
1130, meal ready to eat (MRE): MREs have a distinct odor and I wouldn't necessarily classify it as a pleasant one. But if you're relying on just two MREs a day as your only source of nourishment for the better part of two months, you'll take what you can get.
"I'll tell you what," said Ranger student Jonathan Gilliam, a Navy SEAL from Arkansas. "After a while you start craving those MRE crackers. But it's going to be really nice to go to the Outback and have a steak after this is over."
I have to admit my MRE, pasta with vegetables in tomato sauce, wasn't too bad — certainly as palatable as anything that comes out of my bachelor kitchen.
1347, leave for objective rally point (ORP): One by one, the Ranger students vacated the patrol base and began the two-kilometer trek to the ORP, the last place they would stop before their mission. Their pace was deliberate, each careful step a mission in itself.
1539, final preparations begin: Shortly after a water resupply at a nearby creek we arrived at the ORP and the students immediately settled into their patrol-base positions. The enemy was just 300 meters away.
Small reconnaissance teams were sent out to scout the enemy and pinpoint their location. From these reports, the Rangers will finalize their plans. This intricate process takes hours.
1727, the "drone monsters" take over: "Partner, partner," whispered Ranger student Peter Warner. "Wake up."
"Oh man," sighed Matt James — barely able to open his eyes — from behind his machine gun. James, 24, a Ranger student from Seattle, tried to do some pushups to get his blood flowing. It didn't work.
"Open your eyes," insisted Warner, 23, from Long Island, N.Y. "Next time you close your eyes, you've got to stand up. You've got to stay awake."
This is called droning. It haunts the severely sleep-deprived Rangers constantly.
Pushups are one way to get the drone monsters off your back. Chewing tobacco is another. Some desperate droners have been known to take the Tabasco sauce from their MREs and drop it into their eyes.
1845, students head to objective: Slowly, silently, the support-by-fire element moved into position and set aim on the objective. A line of them bellied up behind their machine guns on a ridge overlooking the enemy base. Later, I moved with the ground assault team as it took position on the left flank.
"I guess there's some butterflies," said Ranger student Josh Jones, 23, of Lake Tahoe, Calif., gripping his M-60 tightly. "You just get excited to finally get some action. It's a lot of sitting around, but then you get your two minutes of fury."
2000, strike on enemy base: It was peculiarly peaceful lying there as night fell upon the forest.
Then suddenly I was in the middle of a war. I knew it was coming and when it was coming and where it was coming from, but when the support element opened fire on the enemy my heart began to beat like a machine gun.
I followed the assault Rangers as they made their approach, sliding behind trees and rattling off rounds before advancing farther.
I didn't spot the enemy until I nearly stepped on one. There were three of them lying lifeless (sort of) on the ground. The Rangers methodically ransacked the base, destroying all communications equipment and gathering together everything else for detonation. Then they scurried back into the woods.
Surprise. Kill. Destroy. Disappear. Mission accomplished in less than 15 minutes.
From there the Ranger students strapped on night vision goggles and set out on a four-hour trek to their next patrol base. Watching out for OPFOR, fighting off the drone monsters, they waited there silently for the next day's mission.
Here's a cool article I found on Ranger School.
Army Ranger School: All they can be ... and more
Part One of Two
September 7, 1999 — Glassy-eyed, I sat at my computer trying to type. I wanted to capture some of the images of the previous 17 hours while they were still fresh in my mind.
But I was tired. I put my head in my hands. I needed to organize my thoughts. There were so many.
I returned my eyes to the blank screen. Then I noticed my hands. They were green. I forgot that I hadn't yet removed all of the camouflage paint from my face.
"So when did Army Ranger training become a sport?" asked one of my colleagues. The name of this column is Sporting Life, after all.
"Well, we did some hiking," I said, too tired to explain more. "That could be considered a sport."
And we did hike — Ranger style — with little food, even less sleep, big guns and an enemy that could strike at any moment.
War isn't a sport. It's life or death.
Are the students at the Army Ranger school in Dahlonega, Ga. athletes? I don't know.
I'm just glad they're on our side.
0545 hours, arrive at Camp Frank D. Merrill, Dahlonega: Nestled in the seemingly serene mountains of Northeast Georgia sits Camp Merrill, home of phase two of the U.S. Army Ranger School and training grounds for some of the fiercest soldiers the world has ever seen.
The brutal 61-day Ranger Course, which begins at Fort Benning in Columbus and ends at Camp James E. Rudder in Florida, attracts the best the Army has to offer. It is designed to enhance the soldier's ability to plan and execute small-unit combat missions in wooded, lowland swamp and mountainous environments.
The course is intentionally tough, designed to simulate the extreme mental and physical stress of battle ... and then some. Many students don't make it. Some of them elect to be "recycled" and try the course again. Others simply give up.
Upon completing the course and passing all of its requirements, students earn the right to wear the prestigious Ranger tab. The tab, a small green patch that reads "RANGER," is modest but it signifies the adorned is the epitome of the U.S. infantryman.
Now Ranger-qualified, the graduates return to their original duties in the Army, prepared to assume a leadership role in any combat situation, trained to call upon the savage tactics of the Army Ranger when necessary.
0553, contact with Private Patrick E. Heffernan: My mission for the day was to "go walking" with Bravo Company on its field training exercise (FTX) in the mountains. Heffernan's mission was to go with me.
We quickly breezed through the technicalities. I signed countless waivers and was outfitted with a battle-dress uniform, a patrolling cap, boots and a 30-pound rucksack.
I bombarded Hef with questions. I still wasn't exactly sure what to expect. He responded briefly, politely.
"I'm sorry to rush you, sir, but this is my last day and I want to ride in a helicopter," said Heffernan, 23, of Tyrone, Ga., a soldier in the Ranger Regiment who was about to receive a medical discharge.
0730, "camo-ing up": There is an art to applying camouflage to the face. Use the dark end of the camo stick first. Color in the forehead, take it down the nose, then the chin. Draw from nose to ear, from nose down the neck. Fill in the rest with lime green.
"Did I do all right?" I asked Hef.
"Roger. You're good to go," he said.
0752, helicopter ride to Chestnut LZ: The roar of a UH-60 Blackhawk is unmistakable.
"Sounds like our ride," said one of the Ranger Instructors, or RIs, with whom we were heading out to meet the students. We turned our backs as the chopper churned the air around us.
In the helicopter we had to don helmets, called kevlars. Mine was a little small. In my front pocket I had to carry two things: my signed waiver and my driver's license, which would serve as my dog tag if we crashed. That hadn't happened since 1975, I was assured.
We elevated quickly and I held the ill-fitting kevlar to my head tightly. Through the open door to my side, I watched the lush mountains of the Chattahoochee National Forest speed by below while my helmet's chin strap flailed wildly in the wind.
0803, infiltrate student patrol base: I was wondering why we were whispering.
We hiked from the helicopter deep into the woods. The RIs were kneeling and whispering to each other. I didn't know where we were.
"Don't you see the students?" Hef asked me.
"What students?" I responded quizzically.
I didn't see it, but the Bravo Company was there. There were 40 of them, just 20 yards away, quietly hidden in the woods before me. A large circle of them lay on their stomachs behind machine guns, scanning the forest for the enemy. In the middle, the rest took care of other patrol base activities.
They all were trying hard to stay awake.
They had been in this location for some six hours, in the mountains on this FTX for nearly three days. Most were working on less than two hours of sleep.
"It gets tough," said Ranger student Antoine Overstreet from behind his machine gun. "Even when the sun's up it's still hard staying awake and staying focused. Last night we had guys falling asleep standing up."
There was no time for sleeping now, however. The students had received the day's mission: to strike an enemy logistics base just a few kilometers away.
The planning started immediately, even though the raid wasn't scheduled for another 12 hours.
Army Ranger School: Preparing for 'two minutes of fury'
Part Two of Two
September 14, 1999 — It sounds violent because it is: U.S. Army Rangers are highly trained killing machines.
From the Revolutionary War to Somalia, Rangers have contributed their unique combat skills to virtually every major military operation in U.S. history — and even more "minor" ones that the general public never hears about.
They usually go in first. They surprise. They kill. They destroy. They disappear.
"We're the monsters under your bed at night," whispered my guide, Private Patrick E. Heffernan, with a shifty smile as we walked through Bravo Company's morning patrol base deep in the Chattahoochee National Forest near Camp Frank D. Merrill in Dahlonega, Ga.
For the soldiers of Bravo Company, this was Day 16 of the 21-day Mountain Phase of Army Ranger School, and Day 37 overall of the punishing 61-day course.
0923 hours, planning begins for nighttime raid: When I asked Ranger student David White how many days he had been in the woods, he had to take a moment to think ... and even then he wasn't sure. So I asked him about something that was on the minds of all the students — sleep.
"I got two hours last night," said White, 20, of Vine Grove, Ky., as he colored his face with his camo stick. "The night before that? I don't remember."
This was, in fact, White's third day in the woods. But forgive him for seeming a bit confused. The previous five weeks had been a jumble of guns, sweat and trees — and the two hours of sleep he got the night before were likely the most he'd had in days.
For White, the three weeks of intense combat training and physical endurance tests at Fort Benning in Columbus are ancient history. The strenuous week of mountaineering exercises on Mount Yonah, just north of Cleveland, Ga., a foggy memory.
All that is on White's mind is today's mission: to raid an enemy logistics base at 2000 hours.
1025, food and ammunition resupply: While the rest of the platoon continued the long, meticulous planning process, a dozen or so students, machine guns in ready position, hiked to a nearby clearing where the helicopter drop took place.
Small groups like this are most vulnerable to enemy attack. And the enemy is always out there, somewhere, tracking the students. Called the opposition force, or OPFOR, and comprised of Army soldiers based at Camp Merrill, they can strike at any time.
"Watch out for the Rangers," Captain Mark Landes, a Ranger Instructor, warned me and Heffernan as we milled about outside the patrol base. "They'll shoot you up in a heartbeat. OPFOR's been in here so many times, I've found they tend to get trigger happy."
The students' guns shoot blanks, by the way. But they sound real. And that's enough to give you a heart attack.
1130, meal ready to eat (MRE): MREs have a distinct odor and I wouldn't necessarily classify it as a pleasant one. But if you're relying on just two MREs a day as your only source of nourishment for the better part of two months, you'll take what you can get.
"I'll tell you what," said Ranger student Jonathan Gilliam, a Navy SEAL from Arkansas. "After a while you start craving those MRE crackers. But it's going to be really nice to go to the Outback and have a steak after this is over."
I have to admit my MRE, pasta with vegetables in tomato sauce, wasn't too bad — certainly as palatable as anything that comes out of my bachelor kitchen.
1347, leave for objective rally point (ORP): One by one, the Ranger students vacated the patrol base and began the two-kilometer trek to the ORP, the last place they would stop before their mission. Their pace was deliberate, each careful step a mission in itself.
1539, final preparations begin: Shortly after a water resupply at a nearby creek we arrived at the ORP and the students immediately settled into their patrol-base positions. The enemy was just 300 meters away.
Small reconnaissance teams were sent out to scout the enemy and pinpoint their location. From these reports, the Rangers will finalize their plans. This intricate process takes hours.
1727, the "drone monsters" take over: "Partner, partner," whispered Ranger student Peter Warner. "Wake up."
"Oh man," sighed Matt James — barely able to open his eyes — from behind his machine gun. James, 24, a Ranger student from Seattle, tried to do some pushups to get his blood flowing. It didn't work.
"Open your eyes," insisted Warner, 23, from Long Island, N.Y. "Next time you close your eyes, you've got to stand up. You've got to stay awake."
This is called droning. It haunts the severely sleep-deprived Rangers constantly.
Pushups are one way to get the drone monsters off your back. Chewing tobacco is another. Some desperate droners have been known to take the Tabasco sauce from their MREs and drop it into their eyes.
1845, students head to objective: Slowly, silently, the support-by-fire element moved into position and set aim on the objective. A line of them bellied up behind their machine guns on a ridge overlooking the enemy base. Later, I moved with the ground assault team as it took position on the left flank.
"I guess there's some butterflies," said Ranger student Josh Jones, 23, of Lake Tahoe, Calif., gripping his M-60 tightly. "You just get excited to finally get some action. It's a lot of sitting around, but then you get your two minutes of fury."
2000, strike on enemy base: It was peculiarly peaceful lying there as night fell upon the forest.
Then suddenly I was in the middle of a war. I knew it was coming and when it was coming and where it was coming from, but when the support element opened fire on the enemy my heart began to beat like a machine gun.
I followed the assault Rangers as they made their approach, sliding behind trees and rattling off rounds before advancing farther.
I didn't spot the enemy until I nearly stepped on one. There were three of them lying lifeless (sort of) on the ground. The Rangers methodically ransacked the base, destroying all communications equipment and gathering together everything else for detonation. Then they scurried back into the woods.
Surprise. Kill. Destroy. Disappear. Mission accomplished in less than 15 minutes.
From there the Ranger students strapped on night vision goggles and set out on a four-hour trek to their next patrol base. Watching out for OPFOR, fighting off the drone monsters, they waited there silently for the next day's mission.
