Training
Between deployments, you start a training cycle. It covers weapon handling, land navigation, communications, small unit leadership, M.O.U.T(Military Operations in Urban Terrain) and any other skills you would need to operate overseas. I had to pleasure of attending combat tracker school and few other specialty schools. I didn't have opportunity to document my experiences but, I learned how to read body language, counter tracking, reconnaissance etc...
During land navigation training. You'll either work in teams or groups. Plotting points on a map and walking to each location using only a compass. Depending on how good you are, it can take a few hours or all day.
The total amount of miles covered is roughly about 20 miles including the walk back to the barracks. Personally I found this very enjoyable, since most jobs are dictated by the chain of command. Having the opportunity to work on my own was always welcome.
Not that I would just fuck off anything I had to do and take my time. Mostly I would just self reflect on how awesome my job was. By this time, I was about 2 years into my contract. I already had one combat deployment under my belt and was just getting comfortable with Marine Corps life.
After a lengthily amount of time training at Camp Pendleton. The climax of training is 29 palms. Located in the beautifully depressing Yucca Valley. It's a month long training evolution that test your unit on everything you should have learned throughout the year. Jets, tanks, tracks, sun and SAND!!!! For about 1 month, you live in a hot, stuffy Quonset hut. Subject to all the extreme weather the desert environment produces. No time off, it's work all day and night.
The type of training you receive varies, it mostly covers full on kinetic warfare. This would be my second time attending 29 palms. The one thing I noticed that they had a greater emphasis on counter insurgency training. Living cites that where made to look like Iraqi villages. Complete with 100's of role players the government would hire and transport to base. Their job would be to play the simple shop keeper, the crying mother, angry mobs, and hostile personal.
Range time was mostly shoot and move. Using the weapon systems that we couldn't use on Camp Pendleton. We would shoot over each other and next to one another. It helps you get accustom to how utterly loud and confusing warfare can be.
Of course, working party’s where always needed. Somebody needs to put up all those tents, and that somebody is you.
The last section of 29 palms is titled "Range 400". You initially go through the whole course as a dry run, meaning no live ammunition.
Each marine is tasked with remembering the entire choreographed movement of the unit. Call signs, radio frequencies, size and strength of the enemy etc.....
It’s odd that the stereotypical military male is some square jawed former quarterback. As you can plainly see, it takes all kinds to fill the ranks. Ab’s are not required, just a certain mind set. Especially in the grunts, you put up with so much B.S. To quote the movie Platoon “Most come from the end of the line--small towns you never heard of: Pulaski, Tennesse;. Brandon, Mississipp;. Pork Bend, Utah; Wampum, Pennsylvania. Two years' high school's about it. If they're lucky, a job waiting for them back in a factory. Most have got nothing. They're poor. They're the unwanted. Yet they're fighting for our society and our freedom. It's weird, isn't it? At the bottom of the barrel, and they know it. Maybe that's why they call themselves 'grunts', 'cause a grunt can take it--can take anything." . Feelings aside on justification and legality of the Iraq war. There exist a portion of society that is willing to give themselves to this country. Most do it to fulfill a youthful lust for risk and adventure, some for prestige or a honest love for America. Despite how our country chooses to use these men and women. Even though I’m aware and understand the dangers of blind patriotism. I still think it’s a strangely beautiful thing.
The Night before, ammo and any special equipment is handing out. Last minute checks are held, because the next day. Early in the damn morning is Zero Hour.
I wont go over the details on what happens, you can look that up online if you really care to know. All I can say is that it starts off with a bang. I recorded this using my old ass Olympus 770sw. It shows the last bit of range 400.
Light reading
Raccoon eyes
The man with the camera.
Cpl. Burgess
Arty
Tracks.
Lcp. Grimsled
The Indigenous
Once training at 29 palms comes to it's conclusion. You return to Camp Pendleton, a couple shades darker and a few ponds lighter. Leave is granted and you're allowed to travel and go back home. Word came that our next deployment would be to the city with the infamous reputation of brutal urban combat, combined with the atmosphere of the wild west. Next stop, Fallujah……
