Free Issue In Doubt by David Sherman
Authors: David Sherman
up against a real enemy instead of an aggressor force that was supposed to let us win, I don’t think we would have accomplished our mission.
“All right, break into platoons and chow down on field rats. Keep your packs and other gear on, so you don’t forget how we screwed up today. Maybe it’ll have you doing better on tonight’s evolution. And clean your weapons!”
“Hey, what did we do wrong?” PFC Orndoff demanded as first squad settled in the shade of a tree to eat their rations. “The aggressors got us fair and square!”
“Explain it to him, Adriance,” Sergeant Martin said.
“You’re supposed to be smart, Mackie,” Corporal Adriance said. “Tell him what we did wrong.”
Lance Corporal Mackie cleared his throat. “We didn’t exactly do anything wrong,” he said slowly. “It’s, well, it’s just that we aren’t supposed to give the bad guys a fair and square chance to do anything to us. We’re supposed to kill them before they can do anything.”
“See? I said Mackie’s supposed to be smart,” Adriance said.
“Yeah he is,” Martin agreed. “Keep it up, Mackie, and maybe you’ll make corporal one of these years.”
“Hey, how should we have approached that ambush?” Orndoff demanded.
Martin looked at him, then at the rest of the squad. “I’ll bet that right now Lieutenant Commiskey is hearing all about what he should have had the platoon do so that we didn’t walk into that ambush. But I didn’t say that, and you didn’t hear it from anybody. Right?”
Mackie shrugged. “I didn’t hear nobody say nothing.”
PFC Zion gave his fire team leader a startled look. “What, did somebody say something?”
Orndoff shook his head. “I didn’t hear nobody say nothing.” He grinned at Adriance, who nodded back.
“Remember that, Marine,” Adriance said.
Orndoff grinned, then his expression reverted to confused. “But what should we have done?”
Adriance sighed. “Tell him, Mackie. What would you have done?”
Mackie was startled by Adriance again dropping the ball onto him, but recovered quickly. “What I would have done was take us deeper into the trees. That way we would have come in behind the ambush, instead of walking straight into it.”
“Oh,” Orndoff said, awed.
Chapter Five
Exercise Area Bravo, Bellows Field Park, Oahu, Hawaii, NAU.
Every Marine, no matter his rank, or position in a unit, is expected to be able to step into the position of his immediate commander or leader, sometimes even a higher position, and perform well. Unknown to everybody below the platoon command level, one element of the night phase of the training exercise was to test that ability among the junior NCOs and junior enlisted Marines of 3rd Battalion, 1st Marines.
Third platoon was in column in Bellows’s Exercise Area Bravo—a less environmentally sensitive area of the park, one that had few civilian visitors—moving toward their objective. The Marines had their night vision screens in place to allow them to see in the dark forest. Occasional flash-bangs went off in seemingly random locations—simulated enemy harassment-and-interdiction artillery fire.
Halfway to the objective, Commiskey called a halt. “Squad leaders up,” he ordered on his helmet comm. “Assign your men defensive positions.”
While nearly all instructions and data could be conveyed over the net, there was always a chance of enemy intercept. Besides, sometimes a face-to-face meeting was better than remote communications, so nobody thought there was anything unusual about Commiskey calling a squad leaders’ meeting. Commiskey led Guillen and platoon right guide Sergeant Richard Bender twenty meters off the path. Sergeant James E. Johnson, the second squad leader, being closest to the command group, was the first to join Commiskey. Commiskey withdrew a flash-bang from a cargo pocket and tossed it to the side, away from the platoon. It went off before the other squad leaders made it through the
“All right, break into platoons and chow down on field rats. Keep your packs and other gear on, so you don’t forget how we screwed up today. Maybe it’ll have you doing better on tonight’s evolution. And clean your weapons!”
“Hey, what did we do wrong?” PFC Orndoff demanded as first squad settled in the shade of a tree to eat their rations. “The aggressors got us fair and square!”
“Explain it to him, Adriance,” Sergeant Martin said.
“You’re supposed to be smart, Mackie,” Corporal Adriance said. “Tell him what we did wrong.”
Lance Corporal Mackie cleared his throat. “We didn’t exactly do anything wrong,” he said slowly. “It’s, well, it’s just that we aren’t supposed to give the bad guys a fair and square chance to do anything to us. We’re supposed to kill them before they can do anything.”
“See? I said Mackie’s supposed to be smart,” Adriance said.
“Yeah he is,” Martin agreed. “Keep it up, Mackie, and maybe you’ll make corporal one of these years.”
“Hey, how should we have approached that ambush?” Orndoff demanded.
Martin looked at him, then at the rest of the squad. “I’ll bet that right now Lieutenant Commiskey is hearing all about what he should have had the platoon do so that we didn’t walk into that ambush. But I didn’t say that, and you didn’t hear it from anybody. Right?”
Mackie shrugged. “I didn’t hear nobody say nothing.”
PFC Zion gave his fire team leader a startled look. “What, did somebody say something?”
Orndoff shook his head. “I didn’t hear nobody say nothing.” He grinned at Adriance, who nodded back.
“Remember that, Marine,” Adriance said.
Orndoff grinned, then his expression reverted to confused. “But what should we have done?”
Adriance sighed. “Tell him, Mackie. What would you have done?”
Mackie was startled by Adriance again dropping the ball onto him, but recovered quickly. “What I would have done was take us deeper into the trees. That way we would have come in behind the ambush, instead of walking straight into it.”
“Oh,” Orndoff said, awed.
Chapter Five
Exercise Area Bravo, Bellows Field Park, Oahu, Hawaii, NAU.
Every Marine, no matter his rank, or position in a unit, is expected to be able to step into the position of his immediate commander or leader, sometimes even a higher position, and perform well. Unknown to everybody below the platoon command level, one element of the night phase of the training exercise was to test that ability among the junior NCOs and junior enlisted Marines of 3rd Battalion, 1st Marines.
Third platoon was in column in Bellows’s Exercise Area Bravo—a less environmentally sensitive area of the park, one that had few civilian visitors—moving toward their objective. The Marines had their night vision screens in place to allow them to see in the dark forest. Occasional flash-bangs went off in seemingly random locations—simulated enemy harassment-and-interdiction artillery fire.
Halfway to the objective, Commiskey called a halt. “Squad leaders up,” he ordered on his helmet comm. “Assign your men defensive positions.”
While nearly all instructions and data could be conveyed over the net, there was always a chance of enemy intercept. Besides, sometimes a face-to-face meeting was better than remote communications, so nobody thought there was anything unusual about Commiskey calling a squad leaders’ meeting. Commiskey led Guillen and platoon right guide Sergeant Richard Bender twenty meters off the path. Sergeant James E. Johnson, the second squad leader, being closest to the command group, was the first to join Commiskey. Commiskey withdrew a flash-bang from a cargo pocket and tossed it to the side, away from the platoon. It went off before the other squad leaders made it through the