BTDTGTTS*
Hearken back to 1978, Fort McClellan, Alabama. Cadet Donovan is engaged in CTLT, or Cadet Troop Leading Training, which was a 3 week add-on to ROTC summer camp. Cadets fanned out across the Army (West Pointers could score CTLT in Europe or Korea, but not us cheap kids at land grant universities) and were supposed to assume Lieutenant-level leadership positions in actual units. Some units were good at actually letting the cadets get their teeth into it. Others treated the CTLT cadets as tag-alongs. I got lucky. I spent three weeks as the functional XO of a Basic Training company. The real XO, Lieutenant Bacon, went on leave to take care of some family business, and Captain Sensel turned me loose with good guidance and a benign overwatch. She could do that because the Senior Drill kept a good eye on Cadet Donovan. Both Bacon and Sensel were Old School WACs, and sharp as tacks. The Drill cadre were of the same quality.
My three weeks coincided with a lot of range time, which was fun. This was the last all-female BT company, they went to mixed units the next cycle. They re-segregated back in the 90's, I think, and I just realized I have no idea what the set-up is today.
Cut to the hand grenade range. Put a hard-chargin' strong little fireplug of a female trainee in the grenade pit with a Drill Instructor. The Drill's job was to make one last review of the already-practiced-with-dummy-grenades Proper Way To Throw A Grenade - and to kick a dropped one into the sump and toss himself and the trainee around the blast shield if that happened.
There was a row of pits, and the Senior Drill and I were in the tower to the center rear of the line, doing the Safety Officer and NCO thing. The young Private listens closely (she was a good troop) to her Drill, repeats back the instructions, gets permission to proceed, cocks her arm, and throws that live grenade as hard as she could.
Did I mention she was short?
The grenade hit the lip of the concrete pit and bounced back. Not into the pit. No.
Did I mention she was strong?
It bounced back under the *tower* where the Senior Drill and myself were standing. He hits the klaxon, people are yelling "Grenade!" and dropping behind cover, and the Senior Drill and I just stand there in the tower, casually crossing our legs.
Bang.
They were throwing the "offensive" baseball grenades, which came in two basic types - one that was designed to fragment into little tiny pieces, or which had notched wire coiled around the inside. These have less blast and lighter fragments because they are intended to be thrown by attacking soldiers who might well have less cover. Defensive grenades, intended to be thrown from cover, can do more damage. This one, well, it just went bang and it sounded like sand hitting the floor of the tower.
The Senior Drill and I casually uncrossed our legs and set about making sure no one was hurt and starting up the requisite notifications.
No one was hurt. Not even hearing.
In the video below - there may have been some hearing damage.
Hearken back to 1978, Fort McClellan, Alabama. Cadet Donovan is engaged in CTLT, or Cadet Troop Leading Training, which was a 3 week add-on to ROTC summer camp. Cadets fanned out across the Army (West Pointers could score CTLT in Europe or Korea, but not us cheap kids at land grant universities) and were supposed to assume Lieutenant-level leadership positions in actual units. Some units were good at actually letting the cadets get their teeth into it. Others treated the CTLT cadets as tag-alongs. I got lucky. I spent three weeks as the functional XO of a Basic Training company. The real XO, Lieutenant Bacon, went on leave to take care of some family business, and Captain Sensel turned me loose with good guidance and a benign overwatch. She could do that because the Senior Drill kept a good eye on Cadet Donovan. Both Bacon and Sensel were Old School WACs, and sharp as tacks. The Drill cadre were of the same quality.
My three weeks coincided with a lot of range time, which was fun. This was the last all-female BT company, they went to mixed units the next cycle. They re-segregated back in the 90's, I think, and I just realized I have no idea what the set-up is today.
Cut to the hand grenade range. Put a hard-chargin' strong little fireplug of a female trainee in the grenade pit with a Drill Instructor. The Drill's job was to make one last review of the already-practiced-with-dummy-grenades Proper Way To Throw A Grenade - and to kick a dropped one into the sump and toss himself and the trainee around the blast shield if that happened.
There was a row of pits, and the Senior Drill and I were in the tower to the center rear of the line, doing the Safety Officer and NCO thing. The young Private listens closely (she was a good troop) to her Drill, repeats back the instructions, gets permission to proceed, cocks her arm, and throws that live grenade as hard as she could.
Did I mention she was short?
The grenade hit the lip of the concrete pit and bounced back. Not into the pit. No.
Did I mention she was strong?
It bounced back under the *tower* where the Senior Drill and myself were standing. He hits the klaxon, people are yelling "Grenade!" and dropping behind cover, and the Senior Drill and I just stand there in the tower, casually crossing our legs.
Bang.
They were throwing the "offensive" baseball grenades, which came in two basic types - one that was designed to fragment into little tiny pieces, or which had notched wire coiled around the inside. These have less blast and lighter fragments because they are intended to be thrown by attacking soldiers who might well have less cover. Defensive grenades, intended to be thrown from cover, can do more damage. This one, well, it just went bang and it sounded like sand hitting the floor of the tower.
The Senior Drill and I casually uncrossed our legs and set about making sure no one was hurt and starting up the requisite notifications.
No one was hurt. Not even hearing.
In the video below - there may have been some hearing damage.
*Been There, Done That, Got The Tee Shirt.
BTDT, Got the Shredded T-Shirt, too...
The grenade thing made me nervous. Not so much the grenades, but the PV2 having a severe panic attack next to me while clutching two live grenades. You couldn't pay me enough to be a DS. I hope I never get picked for that.
Personally, I agree with her. Let 'em learn appropriate gender behavior and relations in AIT.
No problem, Saker -- they don't pick the cute, perky types to be drills, they pick the outdoorsy, combative ones who like splodey things and want to stab spiders with knives...
;^ )
Blast. I guess I'd better just try to be a warrant officer then, and avoid all that nonsense.
You say that like it's a *bad* thing.
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*tugs on hat*
Aww, shucks, John. That's the nicest thing you've said to me.........whadda ya want now?
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Sometimes, Jim, it's just better to step away from the keyboard, rather than stoke the commentariat...
She has implants?
Oh, wait. Never mind.
Those would be "BIG paisley-wearing old pharts"; unless Bill was present and you'd have to mention his really splendid winter tan, all squinty eyed from peering out across the vast stretches of Arab desert ...
Cheers
You write, "*Perks up*
She has implants?
Oh, wait. Never mind."
Nah, if this is truly TINS, There's a question that needs to be asked.
Would this be better? "HE has implants?"
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... lost the grenade, again?
Cheers
Cheers
'Tis better to have the pin in one hand than the live grenade, yessss?
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If the live grenade is in your hand - you can at least throw it at Heinrichs (and right now, he can't throw it back, what with that Blood Eagle he had done).
If it's at your feet, and you're staring at the pin...
Hey! Where in Da Rulez does it say answers have to be *meaningful*?
Has it ever stopped you?
*Meaningful* is such a relative term.....I'm gonna haf'ta take a fifth..........or three...... and get back to ya. Rumor has it that there's a hurricane a comin' this way, and if it's anything like the last three I've been through, it'll be pretty boring. But, I've got steaks thawing to grill, and we're plenty stocked on liquor and beer.
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sheeeesh
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