Chosen Soldier - Dick Couch [158]
The final event is a medical-commo drill. A man on each team is “shot” and has to be stabilized, cared for, and evacuated. The care is in the form of treatment for bleeding and shock. He needs resuscitation, CPR, and an IV. The 18 Delta medical sergeants can only observe. Then the casualty has to be carried on a litter to the edge of the airfield clearing and readied for casualty evacuation. The teams have to put out marking panels and prepare the helicopter landing zone to move their casualty. Each team has to rig a field-expedient antenna and hoist it at least thirty feet into the air. Then each of the non–18 Echo communicators has to set up and transmit a message on the PRC-119. The last man on the radio drill calls in the helo, a four-by-four truck. The team puts out smoke on the LZ for the pilot/truck driver, and the casualty is loaded onto the evacuation helo. All the drills are executed in simulated tactical, under-fire conditions. That means the teams have to be thinking security and teamwork start to finish.
Nine-one-five manages to come from behind and win the competition, but I thought both teams did well. The cadre viewed the exercise with a more critical eye. Both teams sit in together during the after-action review.
“Command and control,” Captain Childers begins, “that’s a biggie for me. When that team leader’s busy, someone has to jump up from the perimeter and take charge. Your team leaders and team sergeants seem to know their stuff, but they can’t do it all. When the team leader is head down, ass up on a job, someone has to pick up the slack and watch the big picture—be ready to take charge and react. Another thing, whatever you do, do it properly. Too many of you out on security just found a twig or a small tree for cover. That’s unacceptable. Set up your ruck for protection. Find the best and biggest tree to give you cover and support for your firing position. Do the little things to the best of your ability—never slack just because you are not in the center of the action or doing a visible task. This is a time for passion about all tasks, large and small.”
“In some of the evolutions, you did well,” Sergeant Viafore tells 915 and 912, “and in others, you disappointed me. That 240’s very important. Everyone has to know how to quickly clear a jam on the big gun and get it back in the fight. If that jammed round won’t come free, get mean and clear it. Men can die if you don’t. When one of your teammates went down, you were way too slow. There were too many guys standing around, waiting for someone else to take charge; it took you too long to get to the guy who was hit.” There is an edge to Sergeant Viafore’s voice, and he speaks with feeling. “Hear me on this, guys. You have a sacred duty to go to the aid of a man who is down. If a medic isn’t there, and he wasn’t in this drill, you’re the medic—do something. Nothing’s more important than saving a brother’s life. Too many times in this training, you waited for someone else to take charge. Like the captain said, if the team leader’s busy or the team sergeant isn’t there, jump in and make it happen. You’re all leaders, every one of you. Now, this criticism may be negative, and maybe I’m not giving you credit for all the things you did right out there, but this is a harsh business. This is Special Forces, not some liberal-arts, feel-good program; we don’t have time for your self-esteem. If it’s not right, we have to get it right and fast—we’re at war. The same’ll be true when you get to an operational team. If a guy’s doing something wrong, you jump in his shit until he gets it right. When I get done here at the training command, I’ll be back on a team, and maybe some of you will be my teammates—my brothers. Maybe a year or two from now, I’ll be doing something wrong and you’ll have to jump in my shit and get me straight—hear what I’m saying. In Special Forces we train each other—that’s true here, and it will be