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  #21  
Old 21 December 2013, 13:22
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Thanks for sharing. Good read.
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  #22  
Old 21 December 2013, 13:25
RangerJurena RangerJurena is offline
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Early on Day 1, waiting on follow on missions. Pretty sure I had just witnessed a jumpmaster pass by the 82nd..............

Oh and that's "Fred" in the background. He hung around for quite some time, actually got a VS-17 panel attached to him later, chem lites at night.

He met his demise when he followed us off the airfield on patrol one night. We were asked if he was "ours" we had no idea the ramifications for "Fred" when we said no........
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  #23  
Old 21 December 2013, 14:30
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  #24  
Old 21 December 2013, 16:31
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Quote:
Originally Posted by RangerJurena View Post
I tried once, right after the Florida Debacle I got caught up in. The mind processes way faster than you can type, I got frustrated and blew it off.

I've often wondered if life in Bn, with OJC in the middle, me being caught up in the Great Salt Lake Crash and then of course the 6th RTB nightmare would be a good read.
Yes if you don't tell those stories who will?
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  #25  
Old 21 December 2013, 16:56
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Thread posted as a Sticky

This is a sterling example of the art of descriptive writing

Let it stand as an example for others to (attempt) to emulate

Congratulations to RangerJurena for both his eloquent style, and for having made it to the ORP, and well beyond, despite having had his face marred by dust and sweat and blood.

Sua Sponte
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  #26  
Old 21 December 2013, 19:51
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Originally Posted by RangerJurena View Post


Oh and that's "Fred" in the background. He hung around for quite some time, actually got a VS-17 panel attached to him later, chem lites at night.

He met his demise when he followed us off the airfield on patrol one night. We were asked if he was "ours" we had no idea the ramifications for "Fred" when we said no........
Oh PLEASE. Let's sum up . . . cattle. no autopsy, traces of BB sauce . . . NCIS could solve THIS one.
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  #27  
Old 28 September 2014, 23:08
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Originally Posted by RangerJurena View Post
Actually, he was probably doing other things when he ran into you. I know that he also did some instructing at West Point and had a break in service before he ended up with us, I THINK. His was an interesting career for sure.
Nah, he was definitely JOTC cadre when we saw him. He may well have had a break in service prior to 1st Batt; I'm certain he did between VN (173d) and 2d Batt. He was one of the good ones; CRS if he was Black Sheep or Third Herd.
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  #28  
Old 29 September 2014, 02:37
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Dude.

You have to finish this. It is outstanding.
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  #29  
Old 28 November 2016, 21:48
RangerJurena RangerJurena is offline
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This owning a restaurant is hard work I tell you. Seems I never have time to do shit.

Put this together some time ago actually. I'm trying to do this to cover arrival to BN. Life while there, OJC, the Great Salt Lake Debacle and I'll probably include that dreaded swamp walk I had the great pleasure of being a part of.

I know it's disjointed at the moment, but at some point I hope I have enough for a book of some type.



Forward

If I knew where I was going, I might already be there, but Im not sure where Ive been Cross Canadian Ragweed
The lyrics above have always struck a chord with me. Musical pun intended. They seem to define life as I have lived it. Growing up, a high school diploma was the important thing. So, my youth was spent on football and baseball fields in Alief, Texas working towards the all important high school graduation.
I was never the kid who had the aspirations to be a doctor or lawyer. I was torn between a Houston police officer and a chef. No earthly idea why I wanted to be a cop and being a chef seemed like a great idea because I was, like many in the early 70s, a latch key kid who cooked or made out of a can or TV dinner, his own meals.

While an entire book could be written on those years and how I ended up in the Army, those contained in this book are about my years of service in the United States Army, specifically my career as a Ranger.
We touch and come in contact with thousands of individuals in our life time, our experiences based on those touch points are in the millions over the course of that same life time. The people and the experiences of the time frame within this book are most important to me.

My place in history is one that cannot compare to those who continued on or those who started their service while fighting the Global War on Terror. If you asked me to my face, Id tell you that I have no place in history with the modern day Ranger. But as Ive written brief parts and pieces and relayed them to others, all said, you should write about those times.

I have been blessed in my military career to walk amongst giants, Rangers whose stories may never be told because they cant be. Men and friends who have sacrificed all for this country, some who returned and some who have not. To learn from them that they felt, these stories of when we were young, were important enough to be told, has been humbling.

To honor them I write.


This book is dedicated to the men of the 75th Ranger Regiment , past and present. Those that led the way and set the example before me and those modern day warriors who have been in contact with the enemy since Oct. 2001. Most who have endured these deployments recognize that a strong family unit is important to mission accomplishment. My kids spent their early years with a father who was not really around much and it required a strong Ranger wife and support group to keep things copasetic at the house. My wife Lisa was as much a part of the life in these pages as anyone else.

Freedom is not free, Rangers and their families pay for it.

Savannah

Staring at it, I guess Id never really seen Spanish Moss before. Seems like I remember it hanging off some trees along Main or Fannin, near the Rice University campus in Houston. Those streets were lined with giant oaks in the affluent part of town near the medical center. But as I stood at parade rest in my dress greens, the moss hanging off the oak trees in front of me looked nothing like what we had in Houston. It was October and much like home, the sweat was rolling down the center of my back into the crack of my ass. Southern US heat was amplified by the polyester garments the Army had me standing in and the black wool sock known as a beret perched upon my head
.
I was a graduate of the Ranger Indoctrination Course. That was, unbeknownst to me, well, worthless now that I was in Savannah.

However, those that stood in this formation with me were all graduates of that same course and we were all guys who voiced a serious desire to never, ever be stationed in the Pacific Northwest. So, we stood in the October heat, in front of the Hard Rock Charlie Orderly room waiting for the rear detachment Non Commissioned Officer in Charge, Polyester suit on, black wool sock on our head, rigidly staring straight ahead.

The truck was black, it had 4 wheel drive and it was pretty big, the Ranger who got out was even bigger and the dip of smokeless tobacco in his lip was quite possibly the largest Id ever seen. The brakes on the truck locked up and he was right in front of us. Looking at this guy, while not much taller than I, he was thick like the oaks which were home to the Spanish moss in front of me, I wondered if every Ranger in 1/75 looked like this. His stream of Copenhagen spit landed right in front of us and splattered on some of the other guys spit shined boots. Cherries he said.

Now, we all knew what were to be titled, I suppose the actual disdain for us seemed to be lost in translation from the course that supposedly prepared us to be there to the actual way it was upon arrival. As I stared at this large Ranger who seemed to ooze hate, I began to wonder what the hell I had gotten myself into. I was sure at that very moment his intent was to somehow make us all quit.

Now, here is the thing about this environment, the weak are always culled from the heard. So, when the sharks or lions or jackals or Ranger NCOs start circling, you want very much at that moment to be in the middle of the pack. Shit, dont get too far out front, you could take a wrong turn and theyd be waiting, never, ever, fall to the rear, nothing ever good comes from that. From butt strokes to the head to just totally disappearing from the unit, nothing good ever happens in the rear.
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  #30  
Old 29 November 2016, 00:21
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I'm hooked. Can't wait for the finished product.
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  #31  
Old 29 November 2016, 12:43
jhes160 jhes160 is offline
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To a man, regardless of the time getting to battalion...I'm sure we've all had that "What the fuck have I gotten myself into" moment.

I can't speak for other SOF units but I'm sure it's the same.

Can't wait to read more.
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  #32  
Old 29 November 2016, 13:30
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"What the fuck have I gotten myself into" moment.

Still remember sitting in O'Hare smoking a cigarette with Oscar, cool guy from Chicago. He looks at me and says, "Mac, what the fuck have we done?". Funny as shit thinking back on it now, he ended up in my training squadron and we had some funny f'in times during BMT.
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  #33  
Old 5 December 2016, 14:12
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Quote:
Originally Posted by RangerJurena View Post


I was a graduate of the Ranger Indoctrination Course. That was, unbeknownst to me, well, worthless now that I was in Savannah.

As I stared at this large Ranger who seemed to ooze hate, I began to wonder what the hell I had gotten myself into. I was sure at that very moment his intent was to somehow make us all quit.

never, ever, fall to the rear, nothing ever good comes from that.... nothing good ever happens in the rear.


These quotes made me chuckle.

Not too shabby for a 2C NCO.
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  #34  
Old 5 December 2016, 17:04
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Quote:
Originally Posted by RangerJurena View Post
Oh and that's "Fred" in the background. He hung around for quite some time, actually got a VS-17 panel attached to him later, chem lites at night.

He met his demise when he followed us off the airfield on patrol one night. We were asked if he was "ours" we had no idea the ramifications for "Fred" when we said no........
We adopted a sheep in Iraq that we took to calling "Skittles" because the thing enjoyed eating them. I've got a couple of pictures of everybody gathered around her for a photo with the VS-17 on her back, digging into a bunch of skittles we laid on the ground.

Not sure what happened to her, I imagine she wound up on somebody's kitchen table at some point.
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  #35  
Old 5 December 2016, 23:22
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Thông tin khá b• ích, mong mọi người sẽ ‘óng góp nhiều hơn thông tin dạng như thế này ‘ƒ forum thêm phần ‘a dạng.
Please fix your keyboard.

And then introduce yourself here:

http://www.socnet.com/showthread.php?t=73033
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