SpecOps

How NOT to Attend Warrant Officer Candidate School (WOCS) Pt. 2

In the first segment of this piece, we talked about the initial trip down to Ft. Rucker and we introduced our readers to retired CW4 Wade Chapple, one of the bigger characters I came across in my time in the military. Wade and I served in 1st Bn. 7th SFG(A) together, went to the Warrant Course in the same class and got assigned to 3/7 down in Panama after graduation.

We were roommates at Ft. Gullick (Espinar), and to jump ahead a bit, when we arrived in Panama the housing office wouldn’t let us move in until work that was being done was finished. Well, we just really needed a place to dump our stuff and deploy anyway, and it turned into a fiasco but Wade convinced the housing office to let us move in and they were free to finish work. We lived in what was known as “the pit”, with all DOD school teachers as our neighbors.

We were just down the hill from the pool and our work schedule prevented us from using it during normal hours. The MPs were always trying to catch anyone in there at night, and Wade wanted to get his Scuba legs going so every other night, we’d sneak into the pool when we were around and swim laps and hide under the surface when the MPs would drive by. Of course, if they’d caught us, the explaining to the Bn CDR why the two new officers were trespassing would have been a good one. Never a dull moment. But I digress, and it is back to Ft. Rucker. The cadre members of the WOCS had given the SF guys the $hit detail of cleaning their offices one night. We had some of the kids helping out and in reality, it wasn’t hard.

But between Chapple and Brian Bewley we made it a UW exercise in sabotage. Bewley got a bunch of those old flash cubes that would go on top of those old film cameras. I know you younger people are like “what the heck are those?” He started wiring all of the TACs desks with the flash cubes and batteries with one of our other SF guys, a tall guy from Bad Tolz whose name, unfortunately, escapes me after all these years. Must be CTE/TBI.

However, as soon as they would open their drawer of their desk, poof! A big flash would greet them. No harm, just a startling reminder that the freedom fighters of Pineland were in their midst. As they were doing this, Chapple took an Exacto knife and started cutting around a large wooden hand that each of the TACs had outside their door. The usual procedure was for the candidates to enter the office and pound three times on the hand before entering their respective TAC’s office for the weekly counseling. Most students didn’t really pound it but would open palm it to make a loud slapping sound which would suffice. Chapple wanted to make an entrance for our next morning counseling, and he neatly cut the drywall all around the hand. Everything was set. We finished the cleaning and headed off to bed.

The TACs normally arrived about 15 minutes before the students were woken up at 4:15 a.m. for early morning PT session. By four we were all awake and dressed and looking out the window at the TACs building. They all arrived at about the same time and entered the office. Making small talk in the hallway, no one had entered their offices yet.

Finally, they sat down at their desks. Our biggest nemesis, our own “Rat-Face” a CID warrant, opened his top drawer ….POOF! He jumped back and yelled WTF!. The others came quickly. He explained what happened and opening the drawer, they found the flash cube. The others began laughing (very surprising), they encouraged him to open another drawer….POOF!. So now they were all involved going from office to office opening desk drawers laughing like kids at a park. Pressed against the glass across the street, that wasn’t the reaction we were expecting. We filed out for PT, the TACs came out and said nothing and we PT’d like any other normal day. While we were running, as one of the flank road guards, I stopped at an intersection until the class passed. One of the TACs, young Aviation CW3 stopped beside me jogging in place. As we were running to catch back up with the front, he said, “Hey,…. nice job last night.”

All of that benevolence was soon to be a thing of the past thanks to Mr. Chapple. We filed into the offices for the craziness that was the weekly counseling. I was in the office of the most bizarre Guamanian CW4 ever. In between telling/nearly yelling that I was never going to pass the course, had no leadership potential, that I should quit now, yada, yada, he kept stopping to offer me a banana on his desk. He kept saying that with the heat and the all the sweating we were doing, I needed to eat more bananas for the potassium which he pronounced “Potash-um”. It was crazy. He’d go off on a rant and stop himself and then say, “Please…take the banana…is good for you.” I was barely listening waiting for Chapple who was on deck to go next door. That’s when all hell broke loose.

When a candidate entered the TACs office, he was supposed to make himself heard…no wimpy knocks. When Chapple hammered the wooden hand, the drywall that he’d cut the night before easily gave way and the wooden hand flew thru the wall and into the TACs’ office and landed on his desk. He went ballistic. Wade was doing pushups on the floor in the hallway. The students “bracing the wall” that knew what was happening, were trying to stifle laughter, the ones who didn’t stared in total open mouthed amazement.

I was quickly booted from the other office to join him in the hallway. We were sent outside and they commenced to smoking us for a good amount of time. The sweat was running down our faces and nobody was offering me a banana now. I guess my “Potash-um” levels didn’t mean squat anymore. Throughout the smoke session, they’d ask us if we wanted to quit. Chapple kept saying, “You can’t beat me up.” Finally, one cadre member said, “What do you mean? Nobody is laying hands on you.” Wade responded, “When we leave here, we’re going to SERE School and they’re going to beat us up. This isn’t that bad.” That ended that.

Coincidentally, it was the last time we were tasked with cleaning the offices.

The flag detail mentioned in the first piece was interesting. We got tasked to do it and having never done it before, we asked the TACs for a manual which they gave us the night before. Bewley, I believe it was who took charge and assigned everyone a task and we rehearsed it once or twice. We filed over to the flagpole outside the Post Cdrs’ office. The first time went off without a hitch, it looked smooth and it turned out the General wasn’t in his office. The second time, we could see him checking us out. He had a reputation as a stickler for this particular ceremony and had the reputation as chewing out the detail and the cadre members if they messed it up.

We did…if I don’t say so myself, a bang-up job. There was no messing around here and we mustered all of the drill and ceremony pomp we could. We were pretty pleased with ourselves when the General’s aide, a young Major came out and asked us to standby because he’d like to talk to us. We didn’t know what to expect so we stood there and waited. The General came over and had a big smile on his face. “As I was looking out the window, I was thinking, these guys don’t look like the ordinary flag detail from the WOC course,” he said. “All Special Forces guys?” he asked. “What was this, some kind of punishment?”

We were all quiet and Brian said, “Ah we thought so sir, we were told that you regularly chew out WOCs at the flag detail.” The general laughed and said that wasn’t happening today. He told his aide to send a note to our cadre that the flag detail for that Friday was the most professional he’d seen since becoming the Post Commander. “So,” he asked, “Are we stealing all of you guys for Aviation?” When we told him we were candidates for the SF Warrant Program, he shook his head. “I didn’t think they’d let that many of you guys come our way.” He made small talk, asked us about some of the deployments we’d been on and wished us all luck. Who said that guy had a stick up his butt?

As mentioned before, the classes during the day weren’t anything earth shattering in terms of learning new material, for us, with an average of about 10 years of service, it was all just a rehash of things we’ve had before. One of our classes was a writing class that we had at the Instructor Training Course at Ft. Bragg. It was taught by a civilian, an older woman who looked like she was in the dictionary listed under Sweet Grandmother. She spoke slowly, softly and talked to everyone like we were her favorite grandkids.

Chapple asked her from our seats in the back row if indeed we had to have this class since we had it at Bragg. She smiled and said that we did because it was part of the WOCS curriculum. No problem, Wade said, we were just asking. And then let out another one of his tremendous burps. Grandma was shocked and her mouth made a perfect “O”. When it came time to read some of the stuff we had written, Wade read his in perfect Spanish like he was teaching a class down south. She looked at me, as she’d taken a seat in the back row. I smiled and she just shook her head. “That was very nice Mr. Chapple but can we do it in English perhaps?” she asked. Grandma was the one person Wade couldn’t rile up, not that he wanted to with her.

At the end of the WOC course, you have one final inspection, done by a group of cadre officers from another battalion so that there is no bias involved. The last two weeks that is all everyone talked about, students, TAC officers …everyone. And even though they were supposed to rotate the leadership positions every week, the cadre picked the two guys with “no leadership potential” to be the class leader and student first sergeant. That’s right Balestrieri and Chapple,…Heaven help us.

The course was winding down and the BS got put to the side, now they wanted everyone to graduate and move on. There was one thing that they didn’t play around with and in this case they were right. There was a method of rolling a tee shirt tightly when wet, then putting it on a lamp covered with a towel, called baking. It would make your shirts tighter than the third monkey on Noah’s Ark in the rain, but it also would ruin the shirt and was a huge fire hazard. And in the WWII buildings, they wouldn’t tolerate it at all. Anyone caught doing it was immediately given the boot.

My stuff hadn’t been touched in ten days, so the last few days were kicked back with just formations, PT, and chow. I was in our building when someone came and got me. Some of the kids were panicking. Worried about the final inspection, many of them were baking t-shirts. I called an immediate class formation. The switch to the SFAS cadre came right back on. This was the last thing we needed to deal with.

I cut loose on the class, telling them that anyone who was in panic mode after all these weeks was a sorry MFer and doesn’t need to be in the farkin’ course. One of the brown nosers who correctly assumed the cadre were watching, told me that Candidates were not supposed to use foul language while a student. “If my language offends you, Fuck You,” I said. We’re talking about getting at a minimum getting a student and his bunkmate booted from the course, not to mention a fire. Then winding it down, I said, we’d all got to that point, if we continue to play the game, every one of us was going to walk across the stage and graduate. I was just about to release the class when from behind me the Senior TAC appeared. He made it clear…loudly so, that this wasn’t a game and it was serious business and for me to relay that ..and then dismiss the class.

“I stand corrected,” I told the class. “This is not a game and will be treated accordingly.” The senior TAC was going in the head shed. “So, continue to participate in the sport, and you will graduate. Dismissed.” I was the only one doing push-ups that afternoon.

The CW4 who did our final inspection was a Special Forces guy from 1st Group. He was busted up and walked with a cane. But he knew Bewley and was going to play a practical joke on him. He and two of his officers came in the barracks during breakfast. And they filled Bewley’s laundry bag with a ton of contraband.

When the class filed back from chow we started the final inspection. Everything was going smoothly until Bewley’s turn came and when they dumped his laundry bag, extra belt buckles, boots, belts, and a nip of Jack Daniels came tumbling out on his bunk. The silence was heavy. “Something you want to tell us, Candidate?” Bewley’s face went red. “Obviously that was planted by someone who wanted to watch me go down in flames.” They all cracked up.

At the end of our inspection, we were all passed…imagine that. The SF warrant told us, our orders had changed and we were needed at Bragg early because SERE school was starting early. We approached the cadre and they got us out-processed quickly. But they still wanted us to go for the final “victory run”, followed by a 10 a.m. ceremony. The other guys had a noon flight that would put them in Fayetteville early. But Chapple and I were driving and that was going to take longer.

We talked it over. Wade said, “Well, we got our diploma, we are already out-processed, I say screw that…let’s sky out of here at 4 a.m.” So when everyone was woken up, he pulled his truck on the company street and we commenced to packing it up. The cadre were staring at him, knowing he really wasn’t leaving he was just loading the truck and putting it back in the parking lot. Nope. I said goodbye to a few guys and walked outside. Wade started the truck and snapped a perfect salute to the cadre who stood there staring at our tail lights going down the street. He even left on his own terms. Chapple 2 WOC Cadre 0.

A few weeks later, we were in the middle of SERE School, in the final phase, and I don’t have to tell you what happens, you’re made “uncomfortable”. We were paraded about with bags over our heads and were made to kneel in the gravel. One by one the “bad guys” were going down the line and hitting prisoners and asking some silly question. When it was my turn, I was only hit a glancing blow. “That didn’t hurt,” I thought I said to myself. But it was out loud. That got remedied quick, and yes it hurt.

As I was trying to kneel again, they popped the guy next to me and asked him, “Where are coming from?” Even with a bag over his head, I’d recognize that voice anywhere. “I don’t know, but I don’t want to go where that MFer next to me (meaning me) is going”… he was “chastised” many times by the guards for constantly asking them “What time is it?” in a subtle bit of turning the tables on them and a “small victory” for us.

Chapple 1 SERE 0.

Photos Courtesy: DOD, Wikipedia

Trump Commits Long-Term To Afghanistan War, Troop Numbers Uncertain

President Donald Trump has committed U.S. support in the ongoing war in Afghanistan. While not offering specifics in regard to a number of troops that would be involved, his decision was welcomed by the Afghan government.

In a nationally televised speech from Ft. Myer, VA on Monday night, Trump admitted that he favored a withdrawal from the war-torn country and was going against his instincts in approving this new campaign strategy sought by his top military advisers, but said that leaving would pose a greater risk.

“The consequences of a rapid exit are both predictable and unacceptable,” he said. “A hasty withdrawal would create a vacuum that terrorists, including ISIS and al Qaeda, would instantly fill.” The Taliban released a statement stating that they would make the country a “graveyard for the American empire.”

Still, he promised an end to “nation-building” by U.S. forces in what has become American’s longest war and stressed that ultimately Afghanistan’s struggling police and army must defeat the Taliban.
“The stronger the Afghan security forces become, the less we will have to do. Afghans will secure and build their own nation and define their own future. We want them to succeed.”
Most of the approximately 8,400 U.S. troops in Afghanistan work with a NATO-led training and advising mission, with the rest part of a counter-terrorism force that mostly targets pockets of al Qaeda and Islamic State fighters.
While Trump said he would not discuss troop levels or details of the new strategy, U.S. officials said on Monday he had signed off on Defense Secretary James Mattis’ plans to send about 4,000 more troops to Afghanistan.

Trump called out Pakistan for allowing safe havens for terrorists inside of their borders. The Pakistanis strongly denied this, “There are no terrorist hideouts in Pakistan,” spokesman Major General Asif Ghafoor said.

To read the entire article from Reuters, click here:

Photo courtesy Wikipedia

Special Operations Forces Selection PT Preparation 8.22.2017

We’ll continue to prep for the UBRR. Tuesday is Leg Day at the gym. We’ll begin with pull-ups, the hit the legs with squats, the sled push, and some other exercises. We’ll finish things off with a three-mile run at a good pace, faster than the standard.

Focus on strict form during the squats, you don’t want to hurt your back or knees in doing these. I like to superset the Sit-ups and crunches but you can do them as you please. Stretch well and make sure you stay hydrated.

Training:

3 x Pullups 10 reps

3 x Front Squat 20-15-12 reps (lighter weight)

3 x Goblet Squats 20-15-12 reps (lighter dumbbell)

3 x 10 Sled push heavier weight

3 x 10 reps Dumbbell lunges

3 x 20 Sit-ups

3 x 25 Crunches

3-mile run

Stretch well after completion

How NOT to Attend Warrant Officer Candidate School (WOCS)

I spent the better part of Saturday afternoon on the phone with one of oldest and dearest of friends. My buddy Wade Chapple is a retired Chief Warrant Officer CW4 from 7th SFG(A). He’s also one the funniest guys you’d ever meet and an absolute character. We spent the entire time remembering the good, funny times of our careers and my sides literally hurt from laughing so hard.

Wade was one of the most tactically and technically proficient officers I’ve ever known. After a short time as A-Team XOs in 7th Group in both Panama and Ft. Bragg, we both were team leaders as at that time there was a dearth of Captains in SF Branch. He later moved on and was the American advisor to the two Colombian Special Forces Battalions, that were co-located at the site of the Lancero School and the NCO Academy. We’ll feature more of that in a later date.

But back when we were just a bit younger, we attended the Warrant Officer Candidate School (WOCS) together. The Army in its infinite wisdom decided that SF NCOs who are transitioning to the Warrant program need to go back to a sillier time and learn how to roll t-shirts the size of a Coke can, stand numerous inspections and step back in time for grade school antics. Our class was filled with about 50 high school kids who wanted to fly helicopters. There were six SF NCOs and a couple of CID agents. We had known each other in 1st Bn. 7th SFG and got orders to go to Ft. Rucker for the WOCS. Rather than fly commercial, Wade was going to drive his truck and was looking for some company. “Awesome,” I said. “This should be fun.” Little did I know …

Putting two smart-assed Yankees together on a road trip to the south should be a piece of cake right? We drove down to Rucker, got on the base about 3 in the morning and were searching in vain for the Student Company. You’d think there’d be a sign right? Wrong. After driving around aimlessly for 30 minutes, we saw a huge black dude with a shaved head and carrying his luggage. Pulling over, I yelled, “Hey buddy, are you going to the head shed to sign in?” He turned and said, “Are you, two students?” …Suppressing my smart-ass response, since we needed an answer, I said, “That’s right pal, students.” “Second door on the right,” he said. “The one that has a light on.”

We pulled into the parking lot, walked up to the door and signed in. We got our stuff out of the truck and made our way to the barracks, an old Army WWII building at the end of the street.

Our very first student formation set the tone. A bunch of Warrant Officer TAC-Officers descended on the formation, trying the old intimidation game. It scared the hell of the high school kids, for us it was like …meh, whatever. Then the door to the Tac Shed burst open and the big black dude appeared. He wasn’t a student but a CW3. “Oh this ought to be good,” Wade said. The warrant was scanning the crowd and sure enough, he spotted us at the back. He tore thru the formation looking for you know who. “You find your way BUDDY?, PAL, BROTHER? ” he screamed in my face. “Yes thank you, sir.” My response wasn’t good enough for Wade. “Hey, at least we asked the right guy…er Sir.” The TAC almost laughed then caught himself and promised to keep a close eye on us two. It wouldn’t be hard.

They broke our company up alphabetically, which means that four of the SF guys, Ross Andrews, Brian Bewley, Chapple and myself were in one squad. Four E-7s and a bunch of kids right out of basic. Ross was a quiet guy with a wry sense of humor who often wondered, I thought, what did he do to deserve going with us. Brian was a former 3/7 guy who came from 1st Group and is a super dude. It was a marriage made in heaven. In fairness, the WOCS cadre had no idea then (the SF Warrant program was still fairly new) on what to do with us. The course was really designed for the high-school-to-flight-school kids. The chicken$hit harassment and games they played had the opposite effect on us. Truth be told, the kids were in awe of us. Older guys with SF. Ranger Tabs, EIBs/CIBs, Master parachutist wings, Combat Diver, HALO badges….you get the idea.

If the cadre were smart, they’d have encouraged the SF guys to mentor the young kids and show them the way. Instead, their mission was to “break and belittle” the SF guys in an attempt to get the kids to fall in line. It failed miserably. We were constantly harangued in front of the other students as having no leadership potential and were singled out constantly for the usual chicken$hit infractions. Their mind games were amateur stuff, I had just come from being a cadre member of Selection where the mind-f**k is an art form. Shortly after submitting my WOCS packet in 7th SFG, I came under orders for the Special Warfare Center, SWC. And SWC sat on my packet until they got nearly 18 months out of me. Ah, the joys of the school house. We finished a class four days before Chapple and I left for Rucker. Talk about changing hats quickly.

Our first Company run, they made the SF guys the six road guards. Four flankers and two in the front, where the pace was set. Chapple and Bewley were Combat Divers and anyone who has been to Key West will tell you that they love to run and do so fast. As the run was progressing, they kept oh-so-slowly kept picking up the pace. When we came down the company street the formation was stretched out like a snake. The TACs were pissed. We pushed Ft. Rucker’s landscape down a few inches after that.

The daily inspections were always comical. You’d come back from class to find the barracks tore up at times and it really wasn’t a big deal. The kids freaked, so you picked up your stuff and put it away…what else was there to do? Someone had told us, use Neutrogena soap, it dries with no bubbles and won’t get gigged on inspections. Sounded reasonable enough. Except that Wade decided that it looked too pretty in his soap dish, so just before leaving for the class he bit his bar of Neutrogena leaving a full set of teeth marks visible in it. He got extra demerits for biting his soap. Little did they know that this just encouraged more shenanigans.

The only peace was during the day when we went to class. The vast majority of the instructors were very laid back and good teachers. Many of the instructors would ask the SF guys to interject with any comments or experiences that could be useful. For the most part (more to that later), our times in class were largely non-eventful. But then there were the inevitable meals. Three times a day we went to the mess hall where the WOCS ate. I can say with absolute certainty that the entire system there with the “disciplined dining” rules is a pain in your fourth point of contact and served no earthly purpose for creating a better Special Forces Warrant Officer.

What it did do, however, was to create a weight loss program for WOC Steve B. I lost almost 20 pounds at Ft. Rucker. When returning to Ft. Bragg, people asked, “Is Rucker that tough?” No, it isn’t. But I rarely if ever finished a meal there. Because my good buddy Wade invariably got us tossed out of the mess hall. I’m not going to get into all of the details about the WOCS idea of disciplined dining. There were many, perhaps it teaches attention to detail, discipline and a ton of other attributes that make great pilots. I don’t know. I thought it was a load of crap. As for my buddy, he thought it “unseemly for a barrel-chested freedom fighter” to resort to such unmanly ways to eat. He immediately set out to make a statement. As per the norm, I was beside him all the way. Chapple would invent new ways to piss off the cadre in the dining hall every day. And every day we’d get tossed out with a meal, half or less eaten.

Strict silence was imposed, the WOC will not talk during meals. The mess halls were quiet except for the sound of knives and forks on the plates. Welcome to 7th Special Forces Group dining rules as dictated by Wade. He made it his mission to push against the rules every day. And nearly every day we’d get tossed out of the mess hall, for the inevitable push ups outside.

On Day 2 we were eating lunch and across the table, from me, I see that old, devilish grin and know something is about to go down. Wade chugs a glass of milk and then another. Which wasn’t too out of the ordinary as that time of year, late August – early September is hot in Alabama. But then he unleashed the loudest belch possible. It was one of those five seconds, “Revenge of the Nerds” burps that reverberated around the room. All motion stops, all eyes go to our table. Every student at our table is trying their best to stifle laughter save for Wade, who calmly munches a piece of bread. Outside we were invited to go and begin to push Ft. Rucker halfway to China.

It wasn’t long before Bewley and Andrews, our other two SF buds in the squad began getting to the back or front of the line to stay away from the floor show and eat in relative peace. They were in retrospect the smart ones.

Each class had a board in the mess hall with these little hooks like you’d hang your keys on. Each class had a color (ours was Gold), and the board had different categories, Disciplined dining, pig rights and dessert rights. Being the junior class, we were stuck in disciplined dining. At the end of flag detail which they saddled the SF guys with (again more to this later), we finished and arrived at the mess hall about five minutes before the class did marching from the classroom. Wade decided a little celebration was in order. “Hey I think we did a great job on the flag detail and the class should get pig rights. “Pig Rights” was eating like a normal person, slouching back in the chair, talking in low tones but more like a regular mess hall in the Army. Wade walked into the mess hall, walked straight over to the board and moved the Gold class tag to the column under the pig. He then walked outside and smiled….”alrighty then.”

The class arrived and as they entered the mess hall and standing at parade rest while waiting to get a tray, everyone caught sight of the disk dangling from the pig rights hook and thought the cadre were giving us a treat. The class sat and conversed without a care in the world. None the wiser. Our cadre looked over incredulous, everyone in the class was talking. Our TAC’s head snapped to the board and there proudly dangling under the pig was the Gold disk. The other TACs immediately had a huddle and thought the Senior TAC authorized it….nope just the senior SF guy.

The Senior TAC showed up as the class was filing out. A quick conversation ensued and the TAC officers waited until the class was assembled and then commenced to reading the riot act. They wanted to know why the class was using pig rights and the students said because the board said it was so. We all knew who they suspected but the flag detail although first to arrive was the last in the chow line. They stopped short of accusing anyone since no one actually saw the disk moved.

Fast forward about 10 days later, once again the senior NCOs (Read SF guys) get the flag detail in front of the Post Commander’s office. It goes off without a hitch. In fact, the Major General who was the commander of Rucker at that time was a stickler for the flag detail and liked to watch it. After it was over, his aide came out and told us to stand fast the general wanted to speak to us. Needless to say, he was surprised to see all those SF tabs there. His first comment “I thought you SF guys hated doing drill and ceremonies.” He told his aide to send a note to the WOCS that the flag detail on this day was the most professional he saw during his time there.

On the way to the mess hall, Wade thought it was time for another celebration. As we marched over, he jogged ahead to ensure he beat the class there. We turned the corner just as the class was arriving from the class building. A few seconds later Wade appears at my elbow. “It is ice cream time.” We all cracked up. Sure enough, the Gold Class had dessert rights. As everyone filed in they noticed the disk and headed to the soft-serve ice cream machine. Our TACs were livid. And our nemesis, who we nicknamed “Rat Face” made a beeline for our table. “Candidate”, he said looking at me. “Did you give the class dessert rights?” I made the most innocent face I could make up. “How could I do that?” I protested. “I don’t have the authority.” He looked skeptical. “Chapple, did you give the class dessert rights?” “Sir,” he said. “I am aware of no such action or activity…however, if I were, I would not be inclined to discuss it.”

Rat Face looked ready to blow a gasket. Just then the note from the General’s aide arrived…in a nick of time. The CG sent a message to the Senior TAC that we should be rewarded. After marching back to the barracks we stood there for 10 minutes waiting to be dismissed. The TACs finally emerged from their building and said that for the remainder of the class, the Gold Class would not be granted either Pig Rights or Dessert Rights in the mess hall without a TAC officer specifically telling us so. In the battle of psychological operations, don’t mess with the men trained in Unconventional Warfare. Chapple 1 WOC Cadre 0.

In our next segment, we’ll look at the rest of the course…and what a strange trip it was.

Photo Courtesy: DOD

Trump to Address Troops, Announce Administration’s Plan for Afghanistan

President Donald Trump’s administration has completed plans on the nation’s plan for the ongoing war in Afghanistan and will announce his strategy on national television tonight at 9 p.m. His idea is to address the troops live at Ft. Myer, VA in Arlington just across the river from Washington, DC.

Trump held a conference on the subject of Afghanistan and South Asia with his national security team on Friday at Camp David. Their plan for the region is expected to increase the troop levels in the country by 3000-5000.

The Camp David meeting included Defense Secretary Jim Mattis, who has said the Trump administration is close to finalizing a strategy for Afghanistan.
Options on the table include proposals to send roughly 3,000 to 5,000 more U.S. troops to a conflict that stretches back to the 9/11 attacks in 2001. More than 2,400 Americans have been killed in Afghanistan.
The top commander in Afghanistan, Gen. John Nicholson, has said several thousand additional troops are needed to help break the stalemate in the war against the Taliban, the Islamic State and other insurgent groups there.
Any additional U.S. and coalition troops would remain in a support role in Afghanistan, helping to advise Afghan forces, which have suffered high numbers of casualties in the fight against insurgents. The coalition is also providing limited air support for Afghan government forces.

Mattis and the President have differed on a proposal to turn the war over to US government contractors, but that isn’t expected to be in play at this point.

To read the entire article from The USA Today click here:

Photo courtesy Wikipedia

Special Operations Forces Selection PT Preparation 8.21.2017

We’ll start our Monday doing a mini-UBRR with Pushups, sit-ups, and crunches, with V-ups and dips. Then we’ll focus on some speed work with the shuttle runs rather than a longer duration. After the rucksack march from yesterday, are your feet bothering you? They should be starting to toughen up and giving you less and less problems. If they are, then we need to look at your boots and socks as being a culprit.

Training:

More preparation for the UBRR

2 x 1-minute Pushups

2 x 1-minute Sit-ups

2 x 1-minute, Crunches

2 x 1-minute, V-ups

2 x Dips as many as possible to muscle failure

10 x 40-meter shuttle run

Stretch well after completion

Special Operations Forces Selection PT Preparation 8.20.2017

The best way to start our Sunday before the sun comes up is our Sunday Ruck March. Grab your training partner (in my case a bulldog) and hit the trail. A little warm up and a good long rucksack march. As always be sure to stay hydrated during the ruck march. It should be a habit that will carry over to Selection and training afterward.

Becoming dehydrated during a long training event such as a ruck march or long-range movement is a guarantee for bigger problems and failure, keep sipping on the water during the march.

Training:

Warm up

2 x 20 Pushups

2 x 20 Sit ups

8-mile rucksack march over varied terrain. Try to keep your pace better than the standard. And mark your times in your workout log book.

Stretch well after completion

Special Operations Forces Selection PT Preparation 8.19.2017

Back in the gym this morning for some shoulders and back training before heading out for a 4-mile run. We’ll break up the routine next week with some more speed interval running, that will help to build up your short area quickness and speed. And we’ll do some swimming which is also very important.

Training:

More Preparation for the UBRR:

3 x 12 Lat Pull downs, behind the neck (go as heavy as possible)

3 x 12 Lat Pull downs, front

3 x 10 Dumbbell Side Raises

3 x 10 Seated Bent-Over Delt Raise

3 x 10 Dumbbell Shoulder Press

3 x 10 Arnold Dumbbell Press

4-mile run

Stretch well after completion

Disaster at Dieppe Aug.18-19 1942, A Valuable But Costly Lesson for D-Day

Operation Jubilee was a large scale prelude to the D-Day invasion that would take place in less than two years. The British Commandos had been having great success with hit and run raids especially in Norway. But by 1942, political pressure was being put on Churchill and Roosevelt by Josef Stalin to open a second front.

Churchill knew that eventually, the Allies would have to go across the channel and stay. So they attempted a bold raid that would include over 6000 troops, 160 tanks and 60 squadrons of aircraft, along with destroyers with 4-inch guns for direct support fire from off-shore. The sleepy French resort beach at Dieppe was chosen because that would put the raiding force in easy covering distance for the Spitfires and other fighters. The German defenders were from the 302nd Infantry Division. They had ample artillery and reinforcements close by.

On the night of the 18th of August, the flotilla of 252 ships under the command of Vice-Admiral Lord Mountbatten sailed from four south coast ports. They sailed to just 8 miles off the coast of Dieppe undetected, arriving at 0300 hrs (3 a.m.) on the 19th. The 2nd Canadian Division was to seize Dieppe and vicinity and hold it until the demolition tasks were complete. Then re-embark and return to England. In supporting, roles were the men of the No. 3 and 4 Royal Marine Commandos, who with 50 officers and men of the US Ranger Battalion.

By 0330, 5000 men were in their assault landing craft and heading towards the beaches behind the small gunboats that would lead the way. All was going according to plan as smoothly as an exercise until 0347 when all hell broke loose. The gunboat leading No. 3 Commando into “Yellow Beach” at Berneval and Belleville-sur-mer ran into five German armed trawlers who fired star shells to illuminate the scene. The gunboat was ripped to shreds, most of the crew wounded on the deck and as a result of pure chance, the 20 landing craft of No. 3 Commando were dispersed. Only one landing craft with 3 officers and 17 Commandos hit the beach at Belleville-sur-mer. Armed with personal weapons and one two-inch mortar, they harassed the German “Goebbels” battery to the extent that their fire was ineffective for much of the crucial parts of the battle.

Six other landing craft of No. 3 Commando hit the beach at Berneval and came under devastating machine gun fire. Barely a handful survived to reach the beach and once there, were pinned down under murderous fire.

On the far right flank, No. 4 Commando hit the beach in a textbook raid. On time and right on target, they completely destroyed the “Hess” battery and by 0730 were off the beaches and on their way back to England. Sadly, this was to be one of the few success stories of the raid.

The German defenses of Pourville had withstood the guns of the destroyers, and fighter bombers and the smoke screen was ineffective. The “Rommel”, “Hitler” and “Goring” batteries gave the Canadians coming ashore hell to pay. The Saskatchewan Regiment and the Queen’s Own Cameroons were under heavy fire.

On Blue Beach, disaster struck the Royal Regiment of Canada. They’d been delayed coming ashore, had been spotted via searchlights and attempted to make the landing in daylight. The Regiment was nearly annihilated. 27 officers and 516 men went ashore. Only 3 officers and 57 men were rescued off the beach.

The attack on Dieppe itself foundered on the beach. The Essex Scottish and Royal Hamiltons landed as the smoke screens lifted and they too were hit with murderous machine gun crossfire. The Essex Scottish couldn’t reach the sea wall, the town itself was out of the question. The Germans poured direct 75mm and 88mm artillery fire right at the men on the beaches. Coupled with highly accurate mortar and machine gun fire which enfiladed the beach, success was impossible.

The Essex Scottish men as individuals fought back fiercely, men were using their bodies as bridges over the barbed wire. A small group of 12 men made it to the Esplanade where they hurled grenades into gun positions, and fighting house to house harassed German patrols for over an hour before being forced back to the beach.

White Beach on the right fared equally poorly. The Royal Hamilton Light Infantry was coming under direct fire from 47mm and 37mm anti-tank guns coming ashore. Machine gun and mortar fire raked the beach into a death trap. Nearly all of the officers and senior NCOs were killed or wounded. One small group attacked the Casino and held a small foothold for a short time. Another group coming off the beach tried to storm up a cliff and the entire group was killed on the slope.

The tank landing craft, so crucial to the success of the operation were battered as soon as they emerged from the smoke screen. The assault groups of Sappers coming off of the tank landing craft were annihilated. One group of 71 had just nine left in less than ten minutes upon hitting the beach and four of them were wounded. Of the total of 314 Royal Engineers, nine officers and 180 men were killed upon landing.

Despite the fire, 17 tanks in the first wave made it to shore. Six reached the Esplanade. One climbed the steps of the Casino and they fired everything they had at the enemy until their ammunition was spent.

Only 28 tanks made it to shore, all of which were destroyed by the Germans. Because of the extremely heavy casualties including the Signalmen and beach groups, the commanders on ship were completely in the dark. At 0600, the commanders committed his reserve blindly, the Fusiliers Mont-Royal right into the center of the beach and they were immediately forced to dig in on the beach to stay alive. Of this group, 288 officers and men were eventually forced to surrender.

The Royal Marines were thrown back into the breach at 0830 but as soon as they came out of the smoke screen, the murderous fire began raking the landing craft. Their commander, Lt. Colonel J.T. Phillips signaled for the craft to turn around.

By 0900 the decision was made to start a withdrawal of the troops. There could be no orderly withdrawal as units had ceased to exist and it became an exercise in grabbing whoever they could off the beaches. At 1022, the destroyers lined up and to follow the rescue ships in as closely as possible firing with everything they had. The fighting on the beaches took another three bloody hours to get the remaining men off the beaches. The raid had been a colossal, bloody failure.

The Canadians had lost 215 officers and 3164 men. Total losses for the raid were 494 officers and 3890 men. Canadian casualty rates were about 68 percent. Of the 1000 Commandos, 247 were lost. All of the vehicles that made it to the beaches were lost. The Royal Navy lost 81 officers and 469 men including a destroyer (HMS Berkeley) and 33 landing craft. The Royal and Canadian Air Forces lost a total of 111 planes shot down. Of the 50 American Rangers, six were killed, four were wounded and six were taken prisoner. German casualties totaled 591 with the Luftwaffe losing just 48 aircraft.

The bloody lessons learned at Dieppe would serve the Allies well when they came ashore in France to stay in 1944. It would provide the Allied planners a blueprint on what was needed to successfully conduct amphibious operations. They included:

Proper preliminary artillery support, including aerial, naval bombardment;
Sustained element of surprize;
Better intelligence concerning enemy fortifications;
The avoidance of a direct frontal attack on a defended port city; and,
Better re-embarkation craft
Specialized Armored vehicles for the engineers to clear the beaches

Another lesson learned was that the Allies learned that taking a port city would render the harbor and piers useless through the action of taking them. Therefore they would construct prefabricated harbors, “Mulberries” that would be towed to the beaches. They wouldn’t make the same mistakes in Normandy.

Photos Courtesy: Wikipedia, the Canadian Forces, Dieppe Raiders Association

Green Beret From 19th Special Forces Group Killed in Afghanistan

One American Special Forces soldier was killed and 11 others wounded during a battle with Islamic State fighters in eastern Afghanistan according to US military sources.

SSG Aaron Butler was killed and his teammates injured as he was clearing a building when a booby trap exploded, killing him and injuring several of his teammates according to Utah Governor Gary Hebert.

Butler was assigned to the 1^st Bn, 19^th SFG(A), a Utah National Guard unit but was a full-time soldier and was the honor graduate of his Special Forces Qualification Course, graduating in 2016.

The military said in a statement that several Afghan forces were also wounded in the fighting on Wednesday in the Achin district of the Nangarhar province, a militant stronghold. It did not specify how many forces were wounded.
And in three southern provinces, Taliban attacks on Wednesday killed a total of three civilians and 15 Afghan policemen, Afghan officials said Thursday.
The Utah National Guard said the American soldier who died was one of its members and that 11 other National Guardsmen were among the wounded. The names were withheld pending notification of family members.

Butler was a former high school champion wrestler and had stated back then, that his desire was to someday become a Special Forces operator. His friends and family described him as a “force of nature” and a “leader, not a sit in the back kind of guy.”

Funeral services are pending but tentatively scheduled for next Saturday, Aug. 26.

To read the entire article from SF Chronicle, click here:

Photo courtesy DOD, Butler Family