Something not normally discussed else where, but I thought it may be interesting for those unfamiliar with the day to day life in a combat unit.
Normally, the guidance given in training for time prior to mission departure centers around precombat checklists: you will find things like gear checks, knowledge of the plan, comms, objectives, commander intent, rehearsals, etc.
Those things happen, but you will also observe the changes the men go through prior to stepping off.
When I was in country, our platoon berthing was an open bay. I was in back with the NCOs and had visibility of everyone. As everyone was preparing, essentially no one spoke. If they did, it was brief and logistical in natural. They were adding or subtracting equipment from their prestaged loadout based on the mission brief. Most of us were going through a mental series of checks as well to place ourselves in a frame of mind, running mental rehearsals, weighing out what could be cut from the load or needed to be added. And processing the reality that we were going to go do something dangerous and people getting hurt or dying was a very real possibility and often the goal.
My final step was prayer. I wasn’t saved at the time, but I was raised in the church. I don’t remember the prayer exactly but I generally prayed the same things: strength, to not fail my guys, if it was my day to get hit that there would be no casualties after me (I was the medical guy). I remember never being able to pray for the outcome of a battle, I felt that was God’s to call. I know I didn’t use the words, but it would sound like my your will be done, if I were to have to say it today.
As everyone concluded their own version of this internal reflection, the silence of the room broke. Quietly at first out of reverence of the others still in it, then growing in volume. Jokes and general grabassery all around meant everyone was ready to go.
Doing this repeatedly, most of us gave honest reflections on life and death. Which probably isn’t very normal for a group of kids to do outside of war, or at least it wasn’t for me. This process caused some a great deal of angst and probably lifelong trauma, PTSD is real in the veteran world.
The solution I came to was accepting my death. Knowing and then understanding that I, too, will due someday. This act of accepting reality allowed me to go back to living my life, to perform at a high level, and to be mentally healthy. It was freeing, as strange as it sounds to say.
I thank God that he kept death away long enough that I was able to be saved by the blood of Jesus. It’s a realization I wish I would have had much earlier in life.
It’s not the normal stuff you hear guys talk about. But some insight into the world of grunts that I thought you guys might find interesting.
-Joe
Outpost 95 