In 1988, I enlisted in the United States Army. While most people who enlist are driven by patriotism or a sense of duty, I did it because my life wasn’t going anywhere and I didn’t feel I had a lot of options. I liked guns and I wanted to be a cop; joining the Army seemed like a fast-track option to that career.
As I write this, the “War on Terror” and occupation of Iraq have been going on for several years, and I think we can agree that anyone joining today’s military can expect to be exposed to combat in some form or another. In 1988, it was different. We hadn’t had a full-scale “war” since Vietnam. My perception at the time (having done no real research) was that I was unlikely to go to war during my five-year enlistment.
I signed up for Military Police, expecting to spend my time working law enforcement in a garrison environment. Basic Training and MP School was a rude awakening when I was introduced to the world of MP “Combat Support” operations. I learned, much to my surprise, that in addition to law enforcement, MPs were responsible for area security, prisoner of war operations, and something called “Battlefield Circulation Control” which is best described as managing transportation routes.
Resigned to my fate, I embraced the possibility of being a combat soldier, and expected – rightly so – that the Army would teach me everything I needed to know. During our 17 weeks of training (MP Basic Training and MP School are combined into a single course) we learned how to use several different weapons.
At the time, the Army was transitioning between weapon systems, and old was replacing new. As these weapons systems were phased out, new recruits would be trained on the new equipment, but so long as it remained in use, we had to train on the new and old systems. As a result, we had to learn multiple systems. The M16a2 was replacing the M16a1, we had to learn both. The M9 pistol was replacing the M1911a1. We had to learn both, plus the .38 revolver, which the Army issued to women at the time in lieu of the .45. The AT4 rocket launcher was replacing the LAW. The M249 SAW machine gun was being added to the inventory in addition to the M60.
Some of these weapons we fired a full “qualification” on, while others we fired for “familiarization” which is the Army’s way of saying we shot it at least once.
I found myself stationed in Panama in 1989. Like Grenada, what happened there is barely a footnote in the history books. It was a scary time, and finally came to a head in December 1989 when a US officer was killed by Panamanian troops. On the night of December 19, the shooting started.
I’d been convinced that the Army had taught me everything I needed to know about marksmanship. On the morning of December 20, 1989, I took what my mentor, John Farnam, calls “The Test.” Despite everything going wrong, I managed to survive, not so much by skill, but by sheer luck. Realizing my training had failed me, I stood in the jungle at a place called Ancon Hill and cursed the “instructors” at Fort McClellan for not only failing to do their job, but lying to me about it.
It’s been an awful long time since that day, and a lot has happened since then, but every time I step into a classroom, every time I step onto a shooting range, I make a simple commitment: I’m not going to lie to my students. In order to be an effective trainer, you have to be honest with your students and yourself about their capabilities, your capabilities, and the harsh realities of self-defense.
It might not be what they want to hear, but you are doing a disservice to them if you don't stay true.
Excellent post.
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