Chosen Soldier - Dick Couch [60]
“I tested out close to 20/10, and I see well at night. I didn’t do all that well in land nav during Pre-SFAS, but it all seems to be coming together for me now. I think I can make it through this course.” He had me at the last point in just under four hours—four-for-four.
My point-sitting time is equally rewarding, if less taxing. And it is educational. When you sit out in the woods for five or six hours with a retired Special Forces sergeant, you hear some pretty good stories. One of my point sitters was a Son Tay raider—one of the eighty-some Green Berets who crashed into the POW camp in North Vietnam in 1970, only to find that the Americans held there had just been moved. One of my friends in Idaho was the senior POW at Son Tay and missed freedom by only a few days. The Americans held by the North Vietnamese soon learned about the attempted rescue, and it did wonders for their morale. It told them that their nation had not forgotten them. When a candidate comes into our point, he makes his way over to a point sitter and drops to one knee. Usually, he is soaked from sweat and wading the streams and draws.
“Number 141 reporting in, sir.” SFAS candidates treat these retired Green Berets with near reverence.
“What point do you think you’re at, son?”
“Point number three, sir.”
“I agree; good job. Do you have all your gear?”
The candidate checks himself quickly. “Yes, sir.”
“OK, while I get you logged in on my sheet, go over there, dump your gear, and take a break. There’s a jerry can with water if you need to top off your canteens.”
“Roger that, sir. Thank you, sir.”
After a few moments, he calls the candidate back over. “Here are your new coordinates.” He reads them aloud and the candidate reads them back to him. “That’s a good copy. Take whatever time you need to plot your point and plan your route. When you’re ready, saddle up and drive on. What time do you have?”
“Twenty-three forty, sir.”
“Close enough. That gives you a little more than an hour to make your last point. Good luck.”
“Understood. Thank you, sir.”
A great deal of what goes on during Phase I to date is to prepare the class for the Star. The Star is a navigation course that serves as a final exam for the land-nav requirement for Special Forces selection. The Star is nothing that the candidates haven’t seen or trained for. This nav course is simply longer and more difficult. This evolution is conducted at the Hoffman training area, a state game lands tract about fifteen miles from Camp Mackall. It is a large wooded area that the candidates have not seen before, and the ground is a little higher. There are streams and draws, but the terrain is less marshy than Camp Mackall. The entire class moves from Camp Mackall to a base camp at Hoffman and prepares for the Star course. Base camp is perhaps a poor term for the bivouac area. It consists of a large, six-by-six cadre truck that serves as a mobile command center. The truck is served by a generator and a portable, telescoping antenna. This command center keeps track of the students on large status boards and is in radio contact with the point sitters and the cadre who roam the Hoffman area in pickup trucks. For the roving cadre, it’s an issue of compliance and safety. Candidates caught on the roads become roadkill, and are taken off the course and removed from training. If a candidate gets into trouble or is injured, he can come out to a road and await help.
At Hoffman, the candidates live out of their rucks for five days and five nights. The only concession for their comfort is a line of Porta-Pottis and a water buffalo to refill their canteens. They live in designated patches of woods and assemble near the command truck for orientations and briefings. Meals are MREs. On the first afternoon at Hoffman, the candidates are briefed on the area—what areas are inbounds and what areas are out of bounds. The inbounds area consists of several thousands acres that the students will crisscross in search