Leaving on a Jet Plane

While we were in the Division Isolation area we drew ammunition from the ammo guys and generally loaded up. No frags or claymores though – quite disappointing. Going through the line I asked for an additional bandolier of ammunition and it was handed over – the usually painful process of getting bullets pretty much went out the window. Disappointed that I didn’t get any grenades I went back to my little corner of the world and began loading magazines. Shortly after that Top Alexander told me to pick up an M60 machinegun for the section and to secure however much ammunition I could get – roger that top! The neatest thing was that this weapon had literally come out of the box! Not a single round had been fired through it. Having been a Pig gunner for a long time I was reveling in the power that I held in my hands. But wait, I didn’t have to carry it! I handed the MG over to one of the clerks who immediately started to complain I was picking on him. 

Anyway, this happened at the D-LAC and eventually, with no vehicles available to transport us, we were instructed to walk from the barracks to Green Ramp, a trip of about a mile, so with no organization and no one willing to take charge I rucked up and started humping to the airfield.  It was a long miserable walk, and the closer I got to Green Ramp the more ammunition and gear I saw scattered on the ground – soldiers were dumping equipment before we even got on the airplanes! Had I not already been loaded down I would have picked quite a bit of it up. Although I would wager I was carrying considerably less than any of the line grunts, I was sucking some serious wind by the time I made the trek.

After what seemed like a very long time we arrived at Green ramp and assembled into our designated sticks. About this time I was given a case of M-60 ammunition to spread among the S3 section. If nothing else, we would at least transport the ammo for the guys. As I was breaking down the crate of bullets the CSM walked by and asked me “why the hell did [I] have all those bullets?” I gritted my teeth and continued stuffing hundred-round boxes into my ruck and once it was full I moved around the S3 handing out the other boxes of 7.62 ammunition to other members of the “3.” Well, it was more like tried to hand out the bullets. A couple of them tried to refuse but I pushed the box into their hands and moved on. One guy complained that he already had a basic load of 5.56 and 40mm grenades and “Just couldn’t carry another thing…”

Whatever.

I was finally down to one box of ammo and I decided to gamble a little. I walked over to where the Big Ragoo was sitting and told him how much I hated to do this to him but I really needed him to carry a box of bullets for us. He looked up at me like I’d just shit in his hat but sheepishly took the box from my hand. I walked away thinking, “Hmmm, that wasn’t so hard… maybe things are starting to look up?”

Oh yeah, anyway, I discovered quite by accident that the O’s actually DID have M16s! Of course most of them carried their rifles like they hadn’t seen one since the Basic Course. There they were with M16 and their .45s like real live soldiers! Funny thing though, now they were deploying to a combat zone they were all for carrying their long guns. 

Eventually, we were called to load up a waiting C-141 and once more we struggled to our feet and waddled out to the waiting aircraft. Again, with little adult supervision my sergeant-sense (much like Peter Parker’s Spidey-sense) kicked in and I hung back, helped people to their feet and generally tried to be the last one to the airplane so I’d be closer to the pisser! Then,  as I turned to follow the gaggle to the plane I glanced back to where the Big Ragoo had been sitting and there in the red Carolina sand sat a lone box of 7.62mm ammunition.

THAT SUNUVABITCH.

            I bent down to pick up the ammunition and wondered after all this bullshit, what was waiting for us on the island. I was REALLY ready for a fight.