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  #21  
Old 8 April 2016, 00:41
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Sometimes, Rangers have a tendency to drone out a bit during patrols. Being awake for three or four days will do that to ya... and what better place to demonstrate your resilience than in Ranger School...
I too "lost it" in the mountain phase of that "wonderful" school. Seemed kinda weird to me because, half the platoon "lost it" sometime during the mountain phase, and the other half "lost it" in Florida. I say it's weird because I thought Florida was easy, due to the FLATNESS of the terrain. But that's just me.....

We had just pulled out of the ORP after a raid and began walking up this STEEP, STEEP, fucking mountain. About an hour into this journey I began to get real weird, just felt real funny, you know that feeling. So I says to
my ranger buddy who was basically pulling me up the mountain behind him, "hey O, man I'm fucking losin' it, ya better keep an eye on me...." He gives me the "roger out ranger buddy" and we continue the march.

Well, by the time we get to the top, he was losin' it too. When we'd stop, we'd both stand up so we wouldn't fall asleep, but sometimes I'd start to drift off, and I'd catch myself before I fell over. At one point I thought I lost my ruck, until while looking for it, I felt it hit a tree.....it was on my back the whole time.

I started to see shit in the shadows of the woods, traffic signs, people that weren't there, RI's, parking lots, all kinds of weird shit. But the thing is...I KNEW I was just "seein shit" and it was crackin' me up. I was giggling like an idiot the whole time. At some point in time, the RI's got a case of the ass at our inability to navigate, so they broke my platoon down by squads and each squad followed an RI.

At this point, things got real fuzzy, but I think they were walking us back and forth, up and down this saddle. We walked up, to the right, down, up to the right, down, over and over again....Sometime during the movement, I found myself alone. How??? I haven't got a clue. I looked around, no one to be found. I listened, nothing. I started to move on what I thought our azimuth was and ran into a ranger squad, turns out it wasn't mine, but I fell in at the end and started walking with them. They didn't even notice. So we walked, and walked, up and down, all around, and I'm still seein' shit. My eyes just wouldn't focus, and once again, I found myself alone. "MAN, THIS SUCKS.....!!!!" Thought I.

I looked around, again, and listened. I heard some movement, moved to it, and sure as shit, it was MY SQUAD....!!!!! Them dudes didn't even know I had disappeared, and I didn't say shit. We walked, and walked
some more, and than the sun started to come up. We walked down a spur and into a field, "AT LAST..." thought I, RI changeover.

What was REALLY fucked up, is that when the sun started to come up, I felt alot better, like I was solar powered or some shit, and when we got to the field for RI changeover, I wasn't even tired anymore.

I told my buds what happened during the evening, how I got lost, found a squad, got lost again and found our squad. They didn't believe me, swore up and down I was there the whole time, but I knew different.

Thank god the RI's never found out.

Ranger D
B co 3/75


Quote:
And another one... Rangers really LOVE the Mountains
Mountains was a bitch, ZERO illum, the only phase I fell into a zombie-like state, in a BIG way: We were on a short-halt, the map-check turned it into a longer halt, so I'm on a knee right behind a tree.. all I remember is a gray-like-haze falling over my ass.. dulling my conciousness, felt kind of dizzy and my senses were really dulled-out and shit. I snap out of it after who knows how long.. and I hear movement off to my right (front of the element) gettin' further and further away. I am kneeling there, just staring at the ranger eyes of the dude about 5 meters to my front, and he ain't movin'.. I figure he's zonked too. I move up to him, whisperin': "They're moving out!" Nothing. Little louder: "C'mon! They're moving!!" Nothing. All the time I am creepin up to this "fucking slug".

I get right up to his ranger eyes, and push him.. It's a FUCKING tree! The damned glow-in-the-dark shit looked like ranger eyes, and now my dud-ass has caused a major break in contact. All I could say was: "Wha da' fuck!?" arghh!!

I picked up the trail element, told them to follow me close and, after listenin to the heard of elephants to our front, headed out on an intercept. We caught them without them even missin' us.. *phew*

Oh yeah.. then I had to run BACK to the lichen-covered tree and get my FUCKING weapon!! Somehow I had just put it down, leaned it against the tree and LEFT it. MAN was I zombied. I didn't know WHAT the FUCK I was doin'.. So, I got my weapon, re-slung the israeli sling over my damned-dumb-ass neck, and re-linked with the main-body with them none the wiser.. but, I'll never forget that shit!

SGT E (RIP)
B-2/75 77-80
Class 8-78
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  #22  
Old 8 April 2016, 00:55
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Many of us knew of and rightfully feared the starring hero of this short tale

I think his favorite saying was "COMEEER HERO…!"…..no, wait, it was "YEEW RANGERS DONE EMBARRASSED ME FOR THU LAST TAHM!"

Anyway, for me (as for most of you), City Week was one of the more unpleasant periods in my life. As SSG P. would rant and rave, I found (much to my later regret) that I could do a pretty good impression of his voice. And so it was that toward the end of my first week at Harmony Church that I was actually able to take a shower (instead of the usual hosing off the crud from the worm pit while fully clothed).

While in the shower on that hot August day, happily singing away, I began my best "SSG P" imitations: "Comeer, hero! You Rangers Done Embarrassed Me for the Last Time!" Then, lo and behold, but who should be walking by the open latrine windows? None other.

SSG P came storming into the barracks, mad as hell. "WHO IS THAT HERO IN THERE? I'LL HAVE ALL YOU OUT HERE ALL NIGHT….." I fessed up. "COMEER HERO! GET YOUR FEET UP ON THAT POLE!" You guys remember that telephone pole back of the company street? Yup.

Had my bare feet elevated against that pole for FORTY-FIVE MINUTES wearing nothing but soap suds. Cracker box ambulance was parked nearby with a female medic. All I could do was laugh (and try to keep my face out of that gravel). Ponder was furious, veins sticking out of his neck… What's a Ranger to do?

Ranger S
class 21-81
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  #23  
Old 8 April 2016, 01:27
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^^^^^ Crazy stories Bravo. I saw everything you mentioned about the Mtns from both sides. Lucky you didn't get SOR'd.

I had a SFC N. as a PSG too. Many humorous stories about this guy. Good PSG. Ranger Montcalm is close to him, knows him. Had some of the same symptoms before he exploded; pronounced veins in the neck & temple area, would start tapping one foot on/ off the ground, take a puff of a cig, then it was on. Most memorable was on Vieges Island (spelling?) off Puerto Rico. Whatever the tallest Hill was on that island we were climbing it. At night, with K pots on. Of course when the Cmd element of the Company got to the top, they stopped to break. Leaving our Plt in trail on the side of the big fucking hill. I was third Sqd Ldr. Checked my guys real quick then moved a little forward to talk to SFC N. He had already broke light discipline lighting a cig. We were quiet when we both heard a noise, that started loudly then eventually faded in the distance. I knew what it was, I had seen several of my guys take their helmet off a bit too cool down. SFC N displayed all the above symptoms then screamed "was that a fucking k-pot"? One of my SP4's ( tiger13) on this site responded " Roger Sergeant, I know where it is". SFC N said " Bullshit, it's in the fucking ocean by now." Somehow, the Specialist found it. It was very, very dark & I don't know how. But he found it!
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  #24  
Old 9 April 2016, 22:08
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Another SFC N. moment. It was SOP coming from the field or trsing areas to do brass & ammo checks in the field
Then again before anyone moved inside the barracks
Everyone laid all equipment out on a poncho. Key leaders would have a private check their equipment
Now we all know some ammo/pyro went undiscovered. We returned from a week in the field, done or checks & started maintenance. The guys in the barracks were always complaining about the 2 washers & dryers being broken. The PSG had to call in the work orders. Next day SFC N. called for a formation. We went outside, he put us at parade rest. Said. your always complaining about the fucking washing machines. I call in a work order. The maintenance guy hands me this (a live 7.62 rd) and the fucking Maytag man tells me "I'm fucked up". Then open ranks and use your imagination.
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  #25  
Old 10 April 2016, 00:12
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Mountains, forth night of five day patrol. I had been APL when I wasn't PL. I was dog dick tired. Bad enough being PL, but as APL I didn't get any sleep. Fourth night out I get to do a field OP order, oh fuck, not a field OP
order. So I got my team doing most of the work cause they know I can't stay awake (thanks Ranger D). They get all the shit together and I go to give my op order. Were under the poncho with the RI and I keep falling asleep while I'm giving my op order. My Ranger buddy Capt. S keeps waking me up and I start the order all over again.

The RI doesn't say anything and I'm thinking I'm fucked for this patrol and fall asleep again. Ranger S, or Ranger D, someone wakes me up and says, Hey, the RI fell asleep while you was giving the OP order. I'm thinking, thank you Big Ranger and come up with a new plan.

My guys did all the work so they knew the OP order cold. We let the RI sleep for about 15 minutes, then someone 'accidentally' wakes up the RI as I'm saying " That concludes this OP order, are there any questions, the time is now Zero Dark 30 hrs". RI says that was a good order, your dead Ranger. So then I take over the patrol.

I help get alot of guys through there patrols because I was point or APL and they helped me that night. If I was fucked as a Ranger they would have let me hang and rightfully so. We had a good Ranger squad (well there was the one Jarhead that was a dick).

Well that's one of my stories.

Ranger D. R. C.
B 2/75
75-79
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  #26  
Old 10 April 2016, 00:16
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Once upon a time .. (March or April, 1980)........... Aw, I mean, This is no shit: Early in Mountain Phase, we're at the 60' lanes doing various rappelling drills, including stretcher, buddy-on-back, etc. I had picked up the habit of wearing fatigues au natural, and came to prefer it -after all, the boys gotta breathe down there, and don't like the binding of boxers, jockeys even less. So, my crotch seam busts. I did the best tucking that I could with the Swiss seat, and it even worked on a couple of rappels: But not the last one.

I had just gone over, down about 6'-8', and my balls popped out to enjoy the the fresh morning air. It was memorable, a cool wind unlike any my balls had ever felt before. The RI up above sees balls below the snap
link, and says, "Hold what you got, roster number 38. Apply a break and hold what you got."

I put on a break, just hanging out. He yells down below to one of the RIs, "SGT (Whatever), come here!" He came over and looked up, concerned, seeing one of the students stopped 50' up one of the lanes, and approached. The RI above yells,"No, closer." The RI below gets right under the lane, looks up, still concerned, then gets a whole different expression and looks down, shaking his head." The RI above says,"Get on down there, roster number 38, but watch out for SGT (Whatever) when you get down there. I think that he's gonna like you a whole lot."

Ranger W. B.
A-2/75
'80 - '83
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  #27  
Old 10 April 2016, 00:28
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Quote:
This Ranger's story of one of the RI Elites relates a tale of minor inconvenience, but trust me, this SFC, who resembled a mountain made of bull muscles, was also the King of the Hand-to-Hand pit. The pain he inflicted was monumental.

"Swackhammer" The name should raise the hairs on the back of any good Ranger's neck - My introduction to him was a bunch of nervous 2LT's - the day we graduated from the basic course, all the LT's who volunteered
for Ranger school assembled and moved en-mass to the local steak and puke on Victory drive.

Following an all you could eat gutfest, we all followed each other (long train of cars, maybe 20 long - after all, who wants to abandon their car for two months on beautiful Ft. Benning) out to the old Harmony Church site.
Keep in mind, none of us knew what to expect. For all we knew we wouldn't eat or sleep again for months...

So up we pull, one after the other, trying to figure out where to park and sign it. Finally someone parks in a lot next to the HQ building, and we ALL pull in. Twenty plus 2LT's, all parking and walking over to the building. This
HUGE ranger (Swackman) busts out of the door and yells, "What the f*** are you doing parking in the cadre lot!!! You park THERE! (pointing about 1/2 mile away). Talk about assholes and elbows! A group of butterbars never moved so fast! And what an introduction to ranger school...

Ranger K.
1/75 1990-1993
Ranger Class 14-83
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"To the last I grapple with thee; from hell's heart I stab at thee, for hate's sake I spit my last breath at thee"
Melville / Captain Ahab
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  #28  
Old 10 April 2016, 00:39
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When we made the invasion of Sicily, our "the Rangers" objective was to take, clear, secure and set up a perimeter around the town of Gela, to be used for a debarkation and supply site. That's all we were told. As we
were hitting the beaches, all hell was breaking loose. The navy was knocking out in close search lights, and firing heavier stuff further out into the plains, It was dark, don't know what the hell they were shooting at. While wading in, on our right there, were explosions going off all along the beach. Before the water was out of our boots, one hell of a flurry of our own small arms fire broke out to our left. Talk about holding a tight ass hole. I know everyone thought what I was thinking. That was when are we going to get it. Well the closest my plt. came to loosing someone was my radio man got a broken finger and some light metal cuts, when his radio was shot out his hand. I think this incident made him a braggart.

I almost forgot. We did pick off some home guards and police. At least that's what the natives said they were. The town was secured, in a couple hours or so, (as far as we were concerned) "Dumb" We learned later about the explosions we heard to our right on the initial assault. It had been one of our Co's caught in field of Bouncing Betty anti personnel land mines. We lost some damn'd good men there. But the story of our small arms fire to our left was quite different.

It seemed the townspeople guessed, or knew our landing area. Anyway we were told they decided to go down to the beach, and lead us into the town. Safely!! God, Poor fools. Any Ranger knows damn'd well in a situation like this, you are taught that there can be nothing to your front except the enemy. And you had better damn'd well kill it. Period. And believe me we were super trained. SOooo! At or before daylight that morning there were twenty or so new widows running up and down the little city square, screaming and crying. It was pitiful. And I'm sure we all felt sorry for them. That is, until some Jerry tanks decided to kick our ass out of the town.

Earl Morris
Darbys Rangers
Hq. 4th. Bn. 43-45
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"To the last I grapple with thee; from hell's heart I stab at thee, for hate's sake I spit my last breath at thee"
Melville / Captain Ahab
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  #29  
Old 10 April 2016, 00:48
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Grenada, day one or two, it was such a blur that I don’t remember. We got the mission to air assault onto the beach at Grande Anse to rescue about 200 Americans holed up in one building. Paul A and I (both Sergeants then) climbed aboard a USMC CH-46 just before the mission. SFC M was my PSG and G was my Platoon Leader. The bird held about 15 of us, the whole platoon, as I recall (only about 250 from 2nd battalion went) As the rotors spooled up the two .50 cal Marine door gunners were blessing themselves, and checking their guns; obviously terrified. I was scared shitless myself, about to go into a hot LZ in broad daylight, but found strength in the fact that at least I was not the MOST scared. One Marine turned to us and asked (his eyes showing that he REALLY wanted a good answer) "Have you guys ever done this?!" to which Paul replied, beautifully, Oh yeah, we do this all the time! (and he’s got this shit eating grin, and we just start laughing out loud; and I’m thinking, what great line… and this Marine is now convinced that we are maniacs, an blesses himself again…)

The bird takes off, and heads out to sea, along with what seems like dozens of others, both ‘46’s and CH-53’s. I sat next to one of those punch-out escape windows. The actual window had been removed even before takeoff because we KNEW we may have to use them, making a nice way to get out. Looking out the windowless opening, I could see nothing but helicopters coming in low over the ocean, making a bee-line for the Grande Anse beach. It was a view right out of "Apocalypse Now". We started taking ground fire, and the birds broke off the attack and did a racetrack. Cobras continued in with guns firing.

Heading in again, as our bird approached the beach (not close to where the rest of the birds were landing), things started to go wrong. Strange sounds. Were they rounds hitting the bird? Don’t know. The ’46 started shuddering violently. Pilot put it down in the surf, so close to the Palm trees (no beach, just some rocks), that the blades were trashed the trees. The rear ramp opened a crack and then stopped, as water started filling the floor of the bird. All the Marines on that bird were the first to go. They left us in there like a target. I’m thinking, "this is not good", and with my 100 pound ruck, tried to go out that escape window. The 2 LAWs under the top flap of my ruck held me up. M shouts "DROP RUCKS", then manages to get the ramp to drop. We struggle to get out into the water, about 4 feet deep. My ruck, one strap off, and one caught on my M-16 sling tangles and I go right underwater as if I’ve got an anchor around my neck. Slipped out of the ruck, and made it to the shore. By this time there is close air or some other shooting, hell I was so disoriented at this point, it was hard to say where the fire was coming from, but seemed directed at the trees along the beach. Believe now it was a Navy fast mover with nose cannon firing up the treeline. Things then got quiet, we get up and run up the beach a couple hundred meters to where the rest of 2nd Bat is landing.

I am prone, securing the corridor between the building where the hostages are and the PZ (which is a strip of beach so narrow that the birds have their wheels in the water to avoid having the blades hit the palm trees). At this point, I think it was AC-130 that was putting steel around us. I saw G jumping on one foot, barking out instruction and pointing. I was an alternate on the aid and litter team, yelled over to SP4 M to help me, then grabbed G by the waist with both arms to carry him to the nearby "precious cargo" bird to be evaced, rotors where whipping, forcing us to yell to be heard. He pushed me away, yelling: "GET BACK TO THE LINE!" I did.

Within minutes, birds were doing the touch and go as Americans were hustled aboard and whisked off. As the perimeter collapsed and we boarded another bird to leave, I sat on the seat across from G, and went for his bloody foot. Again, He pushed me (and A, who was also right there, along with SFC M) back. Pain was on his face, but he would not let any of us touch him. The bird lifted, and during that short ride back to Pt. Salinas Airstrip, I watched the puddle of blood under G’s foot get bigger and bigger. Paul and I met eyes, and without words, agreed that we would grab him when he finally fell over from loss of blood.

G collapsed just as we touched down. We drug him off the bird, and started ripping his gear off. My knife was razor sharp and gashed his foot as it went through the boot. A Gamma Goat from the 82nd pulled up and medics joined in. Someone started an IV. At this point, people were working on him that knew more than Paul and I, so we just backed off.

For a few seconds there, standing on that huge expanse of tarmac, sounds of rotor blades fading, the enemy several clicks away, I felt suddenly exhausted. The adrenaline was gone, for now, and I was gulping air. Paul and I started walking to a spot of ground, south of the airstrip, that C Co had claimed as their own. The Americans that we had rescued were nearby, guarded now in a perimeter of 82nd troops. As Paul and I approached, they all stood up, recognizing Rangers as their rescuers (and not the 82nd), and started cheering. There is nothing I can put into words to describe my feelings upon seeing those Americans cheer us after that rescue.

Paul raised his fist, shaking it, and shouted "WE DO EMBASSIES TOO!!" at this point we were laughing hysterically, more than anything, I think, out of relief to still be alive. (As our bird was going down, only 30 minutes earlier, I thought we were dead men). I have tried to compare those intense, complicated emotions to other situations before or since in my 37 years... There are none. I was never more proud to be a Ranger.

Ranger K. S.
3/C/2/75
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"To the last I grapple with thee; from hell's heart I stab at thee, for hate's sake I spit my last breath at thee"
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  #30  
Old 10 April 2016, 03:55
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^^^^ Great stories!
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  #31  
Old 10 April 2016, 04:03
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Benning phase of Ranger School. RI's gave us like 2 minutes to come up with a class motto. Failed to agree on the first 2 attempts. Got smoked badly each time. 3rd try the class leaders went for something to test the RI's humour. The class was called to attention to sound off with the class motto. "Morgan Team squats to piss" we shouted. The RI's didn't find it a bit humorous.
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  #32  
Old 10 April 2016, 06:00
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Some of my most rememberable RI quotes:

RI - "Ranger, how old are you?"
Ranger Candidate - Tells RI his age.
RI- Does some quick math and says " That confirms my theory. You must have been been conceived in a fucking mudhole at Woodstock."
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Last edited by 1RiserSlip; 10 April 2016 at 06:02. Reason: Addition
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  #33  
Old 10 April 2016, 09:06
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Originally Posted by abnrgr1sg View Post
Roger that. Was referring mainly to the Regt Cmdr.. Was in A 1/75 then too. Made me jump with a girl during the Regt COC. I haven't liked bugles since. A story in itself.
I was on the ground as OPFOR with the Pre-Ranger Class during that jump...
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Old 10 April 2016, 09:15
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Quote:
Originally Posted by abnrgr1sg View Post
Some of my most rememberable RI quotes:

RI - "Ranger, how old are you?"
Ranger Candidate - Tells RI his age.
RI- Does some quick math and says " That confirms my theory. You must have been been conceived in a fucking mudhole at Woodstock."

Hahahahahahahahahahaha....fucking awesome.
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Old 10 April 2016, 23:42
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Man, some of those bring back memories. Spidey posted this morning on the Facebook the listserver started 20 years ago... The pre-Ranger physical story is mine-- can you find the "Sprint Call from Hell" post? I have it on floppy disc--but I don't have a drive anymore! Man, that server was a gas.
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Old 11 April 2016, 13:52
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Get Magician to post his State of the Union Address story. :)
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"We were not sheep, for we knew the reality of violence; We were not wolves, for we respected humanity; We were not sheep dogs, for we “hunted” our adversaries. We were, in fact, lions; and in the land of the jackal… the lion fears no predator."
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Old 13 April 2016, 23:43
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Here's one from N.Africa. Some Dude on outpost, made his scheduled call in . He reported everything was S.O.P.,except he can see an Italian on the road about a mile away. It wasn't long until every heavy gun in the 2nd. Corp.started zeroing in on that strip of road. And one poor assed Italian. The artillery had just gotten their new 155mm longs. Man they shook the whole desert.

What happened, we learned later. Someone had mistakenly relayed the outpost's reported one Italian as one battalion. (Comedy of errors) But that's what war is. No? Damn'd soon afterwards, a general order was posted to the effect In radio or phone xmissions, the word Italian would not be used. Dago, Wop, whatever was O.K. We had some fun with our Italian Rangers for a while.

Earl Morris
Darby's Rangers
Hq.4th.Bn. 43-45
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Melville / Captain Ahab
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  #38  
Old 13 April 2016, 23:46
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B 2/75 B 2/75 is offline
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Join Date: Aug 2002
Location: Black Mountains
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The day was 10 May 70, RVN in I Corp somewhere near the Ah Shu Valley(sp). A 6 man LRRP team out of the 101st's Camp Eagle were loaded for bear and out on patrol. After setting up there RON that evening (after dark, this was before we owned the night) according to TAC SOP they were supposed to come up on the net and break squelch twice once an hour on the hour. We had 5 teams out on patrol at the time.

We had PRC 25's then and the central highlands weren't the best to make commo. The drill was a wagon wheel perimeter with 1 man on radio watch. Per TAC SOP if a team missed 2 consecutive Sit Reps then it was
assumed the worst had happened (we always carried 2 radios with extra batteries).

The TOC got no response on the 0100hrs and 0200hrs Sit Reps. We were supported by a quick reaction force (Air Assualt Line Company) who were put on notice to be inserted at first light at the team's last known location.

The AH-1's where sent out to try to make radio contact and support if needed. The rest of us were preparing to go in on the lead birds at first light. As it turns out the worst thing did happen.

All 6 members of that team never saw the sun come up on 11 May 70. The TOC and the Cobra's spent the rest of the night trying to make commo with them. But to no avail. When the reaction force arrived at dawn all 6 Rangers were KIA's. All were killed at close range, most had their throats cut and all were butchered. All 6 are now on the Wall in Washington D.C. I have all their names somewhere at home. I did visit the Wall for the first time last year
and got rubbings of their names.

After being out in the boonies for a couple of days humping 100lb plus rucks it was determined that someone had fallen asleep on watch that night.

We took no prisoners for a long time after that. After that experience it made me feel that Charlie was less than human and had no remorse for them.

Bob H
L Co, 75th Inf, 70-71
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"To the last I grapple with thee; from hell's heart I stab at thee, for hate's sake I spit my last breath at thee"
Melville / Captain Ahab
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Old 13 April 2016, 23:48
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B 2/75 B 2/75 is offline
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Well, hell it's been ten years now... I'll try to get it right. The movie Heartbreak Ridge basically tells it fairly accurately, with one major difference. It wasn't Marines. It was B co. 1/75. But the Army wouldn't give permission to use the Rangers because too much "strong language" was involved. No shit!

I think it was 2nd platoon that got pinned down on the way to liberate the hostages at the school when the radio got hit by AK47 fire. A helicopter gunship was coming up fast and the guys took refuge in a small village
(Deserted). With their asses on the line and no where to go, a Spec4 pulled out his Sprint calling card, and used a local phone to call Ft. Benning for Support. Benning routed the call to a Naval ship, and he gave their grid
coordinates to get fire support.

Twenty minutes later the Sprint call from Hell was famous. They got out, accomplished the mission, and made it home to brag.

Ranger A
1/75
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"To the last I grapple with thee; from hell's heart I stab at thee, for hate's sake I spit my last breath at thee"
Melville / Captain Ahab
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  #40  
Old 13 April 2016, 23:54
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It was at crash-site one, on 03 Oct 93, about 3 to 4 hours into the firefight (approx.). We were members of Task Force Ranger in Somalia.One thing I remember was when Nick S (SAW - 249) and I (M - 60) where at the front of crash site one, Nick was to my left. It was like kneeling in the middle of the road, no cover and concealment anywhere. Nick and I had been trading rounds with the skinnies for about an hour and all of a sudden I heard that sound that strikes fear into all 60-gunners "KER-CHUNK", my gun didn't fire. I performed immediate action; "KER-CHUNK"! I was shitting my pants, while Nick is asking where the fuck I am. So what do I do, I grab Nick by his LCE throw him in front of me, take my gun apart and put it back together, Nick's still yelling, "get the fuck up here." well I finally got things back together, (about 70 secs.) and Nick and I continued to fight.

However few hours later Nick had run out of ammo. I yelled for Nick to get into the CCP, we had a lot of casualties by now, but he wouldn't. He was out of ammo but he wouldn't leave me out there alone, he asked for
my 9mm Pistol and fired three magazines, through that before he was hit in the shoulder by a skinny's bullet.

I will never forget this day for many reasons, and I will never forget Nick, for when my gun was down he was my shield and when his gun was empty he wouldn't "leave . . . comrade to fall into the hands of the enemy," and he definitely didn't fail his Comrades. Later on, after he was shot, Nick again saved my life by warning me of the grenade flying over the wall, which, because of his warning cause injury and not death.

Ranger G
3/75
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"To the last I grapple with thee; from hell's heart I stab at thee, for hate's sake I spit my last breath at thee"
Melville / Captain Ahab
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