"The only way I'm dismounting during this thing, is if there's an IED...in our vehicle" says Ohio. True that. We talk big-slacker, but we like to get out and wrinkle it up a bit.
This morning we conduct the culminating event for our Fundamentals of Patrolling block of instruction. All week we've been going through classes and practical exercises for all of the pieces, and today the puzzle comes together and we are "evaluated".
My role is Mounted Rifleman, which is the tactically acceptable way of saying "passenger". "Oh hell no! Grumble, grumble, grumble, hurrumph, huurrumph. There are no passengers in a tactical convoy! Everyone has a job to do." I went through rehearsals and walkthroughs with one group, we identified and worked out a good amount of potential hiccups, and then I learned late last night that I was switching groups (to be available tomorrow for our boss' briefing, as an info resource). So now, as a last minute add-on, I ride in the back seat.
It's cool with me. I've been through this about 50 times. Let some of the young bucks get a chance to work through it. Plus, our job is in the office. Let's be real. Of course everyone needs to know, to avoid a Jessica Lynch type scenario, but our group as a whole will not be running presence patrols. It's a wax-on, wax-off paint the fence type thing. After we make it through the lanes, drop a few Crane Kicks, then they just "honk" our nose, and we bounce.
"The block is checked Sir, 3 bags full!" Stories to follow, no doubt.
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