Chosen Soldier - Dick Couch [165]
Then Colonel Chissom lays down camp rules—trash in bags for daily pickup, only toilet paper in the latrine trench, keep the water barrel full, stay in small groups, take care of your gear, stay in character, and so on. “After today, I don’t want to hear any chatter about NASCAR, Jennifer Lopez, or current events. We live in Pineland, and we don’t have radios out here. I don’t want to see any Game Boys or earphone wires coming out of your ears.”
Then Captain Garrett Childers seems to materialize out of the woods, as he and Sergeant Blackman would often do over the next two weeks. Colonel Chissom nods to him as Childers steps before the group to address them. “I’d also like to thank you for being here,” Captain Childers tells the guerrillas. “I know some of you may not want to be here, but well, that’s tough. It’s not the first or last time you’ll draw a detail you don’t like. Play the game while you’re here, and perhaps you can have some fun and learn something. Two things. First, be safe. If you’re not sure that a local you meet or who happens to come by is really part of the scenario, err on the side of caution. Identify yourself as a serviceman who’s participating in a military exercise. Show your military ID, if necessary. There are some good old boys out here who live in a very small world, and may not know who we are or why we’re here. Second, for the next two weeks you’re actors. This may surface a whole new career for some of you after you leave the Army. Again, I appreciate your help and count on you to stay in character in order for us to properly evaluate our candidates. Myself and my cadre’s time will be taken with the students, so take your direction from Colonel Chissom. Oh, and this is Mister Couch. He’s a writer and not part of the scenario, but will be observing you and the Special Forces candidates during this exercise.”
After the meeting breaks up, I approach the G chief and introduce myself. “I guess, Colonel, that I’ll be taking my direction from you as well. Please let me know if I’m in the way at any time.”
He laughs and offers me a firm hand. “Oh, I doubt that you’ll be in the way, sir, but I’ll let you know. Make yourself at home. Things are pretty informal here in camp, and as you probably know, some evolutions are preplanned and some of them will flow from the actions of the student ODA.”
Bill Chissom is a retired Special Forces master sergeant from Clarksville, Tennessee. His dad was a career soldier, as was he; he’s been retired less than a year. This is his third Robin Sage as a G chief. Five of Chissom’s twenty-six years in Special Forces were as an instructor at the Special Forces Q-Course, so he knows Robin Sage well. The rest of his time was with the 3rd and 5th Special Forces Groups, where he made over twenty-five overseas deployment rotations. Chissom is a veteran intelligence sergeant and team sergeant. Now he’s a colonel in the guerrilla movement struggling to topple the current government in Pineland. “We need quality Special Forces soldiers in this war on terror,” he told me. “Nine-eleven should never be forgotten nor ever be forgiven—ever.”
The two pickup trucks deliver 915 to a safe-house location on Camp Mackall near the main entrance, some seven miles from their contingency linkup point. The men are beat, and they look it as they file from the trucks into the clearing, where there’s a small cabin and a fire pit with log sections for seats around the fire. There, Colonel Chissom is waiting for them, along with Sergeant Major Johnson and three other armed guerrillas who stand on the periphery. Sergeant First Class (now Sergeant Major) Johnson is the senior enlisted soldier in Chissom’s guerrilla band.
“Welcome to Pineland, Captain,” Chissom says, rising to greet Santos. “We’re glad to have you here to help us with our struggle.” They exchange greetings, and the colonel bids them to sit with him around the fire. “I’m not very happy about last night,