The Complexity of Combat

The phosphorous round hissed in the night sky, illuminating the open field below. Rapid gunfire erupted from machine guns and rifles along with echo's bouncing off the tree line. The white star parachute floated slowly toward the range, outlining the silhouettes of my 13 awaiting squad members on the top of the hill.



I clutched my rifle/grenade launcher in my raw hands, keeping my finger strait and off the trigger. Heat radiated from my dirt covered bullet-proof vest and from my helmet. My Cammie sleeves were still damp from doing live-fire drills all day. Fresh bruises and cuts throbbed at my knees and elbows from throwing myself into the prone position constantly.

The rest of my squad stood in a line,watching the controlled explosions of TNT and bullets. Three days of field exercises left the same bruises, cuts, and sense of exhaustion burdening upon them. Despite that burden weighing equal to the amount of gear we were wearing for this exercise, we were all alert and ready for our turn. All 13 of us stared down range, watching the current squad move toward the first birm (hill).


The night fire for field exercise 1 is designed to simulate the complexity of combat. It is redundant to say that war is chaos. Exactly how and what extent in detail is something that few ever think about.

It was those complexities that were passing through my mind as we initiated our pre-combat checks.

"Alright fire team leaders, go ahead and do your checks." Said Lt. Pittsburgh. Lt. Jimmy walked to his team members then down to me. Another white star parachute shot into the air and lit the sky.

"You got your rounds?" Jimmy asked me.
"Yah, I got my 2 mag's of 25." I said tapping my magazine pouches on my left.
"You got 3 White Star Clusters?" he asked
"In my left cargo pocket." I said. He felt them to confirm I had them.
"A'ight, make sure you get those parachutes off before they go out, 'else wer' fucked." He said.
"Dude, that's the fourth fuckin time ya'guys have told me that. I got it." I said sharply.
"A'ight dude, just makin sure." He said. He stared to walk down the line.

"Hey Brian," He said while walking away. "Don't fuck it up."

I extended my middle finger in a familiar gesture. I didn't need an illuminating round to see the smile on his face. Nor did he need it to see mine.

Lt. Jimmy walked up to Lt. Kansas and inspected him. He opened up the top latch of his squad automatic weapon (SAW) and racked the bolt back a few times to show that it was properly lubricated. The 'light' machine gun had a tendency to jam due to the rapid rate of fire. Lt. Kansas let the 23 pound weapon rest on his hip as I saw him exhale deeply. Carrying that weapon for the last three days, most of the time without a sling, must have had his back in knots.

I looked down the line to my right as another illumination round burned in the sky. Off toward the other side of the range was Lt. Memphis, another room mate of mine.

Lt. Memphis was a former staff sergeant for the marines 9 years prior before becoming an officer. His experience among our platoon is matched by few. A veteran of Iraq in 2005, he is familiar with life in the field. Earlier that day, he remarked how he had spend the first 5 and a half months in combat without a shower. That grit could be seen in the way he held his rifle, not letting it lean lazily against his body like the rest of the squad. He focused down range silently. His stance was controlled and poised, awaiting like a hawk about to disembark from a branch.


"Second squad! Make a condition 1 weapon!" Said one of the combat instructors behind us.

I went to a knee and inserted a magazine into my rifle. I dug into my cargo pocket and slid a white cylindrical canister into the grenade launcher and snapped it shut. I felt my heart start to beat against the steel plate of my vest as we began our brisk pace to the starting line.

BOOM

A blast from TNT signaled an enemy attack. We dove into the prone position and pointed our weapons out into the darkness. Lt. Pittsburgh positioned himself in the middle of the squad near Lt. Jimmy. That way he could control the center and best communicate with all the fire team leaders.

"Contact front!" Yelled Lt. Pittsburgh. "Lt. Knee, GO!"

Another Lt. with a grenade launcher off to my left got to a knee and angled his weapon to the sky. The white parachute shot hissed off into the air and popped 200 meters in the air. Human size targets flashed from behind the birm 250 meters away.



A storm of gunfire ensued. Lt. Kansas let loose on his machine gun with several loud succession of snaps. The tracer rounds glowed red as they flew toward the targets and ricocheted off the steel. It was then that I realized how close these rounds were to me. Moving a mere 3 or 4 meters to the left and I could possibly get shot.

Keep running strait, stay in the lane, I thought

I got up and started to run as Lt. Kansas laid down covering fire. I pushed up ran a few meters

I'm up, he sees me, I'm down

I threw myself into the prone position quickly. We were taught to say that in order to prevent us from running too long.

Breath, center of sight is 200 meters, aim low, squeeze...

I fired. The round found its mark and knocked the target down. I searched for another target and fired again, keeping my peripheral vision open and waiting for Lt. Kansas to bound forward. He ran forward about 10 meters and set the weapon on the ground and began to fire. My turn to run again.

I'm up, he sees me, I'm down

Continuous gun fire. Red shot ricocheting. White smoke filled the sky. Shadows became longer as the white star parachute faded to our right.

Another hiss and pop. Light once again.

"First fire team, hurry up!" Said Lt. Pittsburgh. They bounded forward quicker to keep pace. "2nd Fire team, shift left!" He said

BOOM

I just barely heard him over the explosion. I looked over my left shoulder to check that I was not running into someones field of fire, and ran at a diagonal to fill the gap.

The sky started to become dark. Lt. Knee was waiting too long. Why wasn't he firing his last round. He had another... didn't he?

The Sky went black.

"CEASE FIRE!" yelled the combat instructors behind us.

A slew of curse words ran through my mind as I scrambled to get to a knee. I must have miscounted how many rounds Lt. Knee had shot.

"Damnit Brian! Get your shot up in..." Lt. Pittsburgh began to say

THOOONK!

The round ejected from my grenade launcher and hissed toward the darkened sky. A small pop sounded in the sky and light rained down once again. The firing resumed. I pulled back the tube allowing the cartridge to drop to the ground. A plume of smoke rose from the barrel as I inserted another round. I began to count.

one... two... three...

I ran forward, then slammed down into the prone. My Elbows caught a few more rocks. I looked into the scope and steadied the reticle on another steel target.

Sights.. Sights... Sights... 6... 7...

I fired again while waiting to hear Lt. Kansas fire so I could move again.

10... 11... 12...


Sweat ran down my face. My breathing quickened

More gun fire. Lt. Pittsburgh was yelling, but i could barely make out what he said. I got into the prone again.

BANG....BANG...Click

I was out. I dropped the magazine and inserted a fresh one. I hit the bottom of the magazine and hit the release button, slamming the bolt forward.

BOOM

Keep sighting. Listen for Kansas....16...17... don't cross your field of fire.

More tracer round flew down range. My heart beat in my chest just as fast as the bullets blasting from the barrels.

20...21...22

I got to a knee and angled my weapon up again.

25

THOOONK

The immense kickback dug the butt-stock of the rifle into my shoulder and jerked my body back. I tensed my shoulders to absorb the pain. I reloaded as fast as I could. More smoke. The weapon felt hot in my hands. Lt. Kansas continued to fire. His shots were becoming less frequent.

There were gaps in the fire. People we running low on ammunition. We were becoming tired.

"KEEP FIRING DAMNIT! KEEP MOVING" Said Lt. Pittsburgh.

The Birm was getting close. The tempo of shot's picked up again.

BOOM

Keep running strait. 13... 14... 15... Drop

I felt a touch on my right arm as I laid in the prone. It was Lt. Jimmy. The implicit communication meant to shift to the left. I picked up as fast as I could and moved.

We bounded forward again and fired my last parachute at 25 second.

"MEMPHIS!" I yelled as loud as I could over the firing. "ROUNDS COMPLETE!"

The Parachute continued to burn as we approached the birm. Another set of targets presented themselves down range, but were quickly knocked down again. The shadows were becoming long. A parachute hissed into the sky from Memphis's grenade launcher and kept the sky lit. He timed it right. We continued our attack.

Finally, we approached the small rock covered hill. I slid into the prone one last time and elevated my weapon down range. The rocks and hard dirt did not provide any comfort to my battered knees. I tried to keep my sights steady, but my heavy breathing prevented me from holding still.

"Hasty 180!" Yelled Lt. Pittsburgh.

We all yelled back. Normally we would push out and proved a semi-circle of security, but for safety we stayed where we were.

"Unload, show clear!" Said the Combat instructors. I pulled the bolt back inspected the camber to ensure there was no bullet. I took out the magazine and opened the grenade launcher. An instructor came by, said I was clear. I locked my weapon and took a very time getting to my feet. My heart rate was beating faster than I could think

The event was over in less than 10 minutes.



This is probably one of the more close simulations for combat on a range that we have had thus far. I now understand more about how actual engagements are conducted. When fighting, you are not just worrying about your enemy and killing him; you must pay attention to those leading, those who are to your right and to your left, the environment around you, avoiding your enemies fire just as well as the fires of your friendlies, and any other weapon system that must be employed.

From what I have heard, engagements over seas can last hours. Today was only 10 minutes, and afterward I could barely stand.


Combat is not simple in any form. The degree to which a warrior must understand the battle field supersedes any normal person's expectation. Those who simply write off war as a barbaric act are far from the truth.

Combat is complex. War is an art.

And I am only just beginning to understand what combat really means.




Sorry if this one was too long. Thanks for reading.