Fort Stewart, GA - Honor and Privilege

FunFaler asked that the instructors who worked at Fort Stewart post an account of their experiences here - so here's a brief essay on mine.

Honor and Privilege – my time at Fort Stewart
I noticed a post under the instructor section on the Appleseeds forum that was calling for volunteers to work with National Guard troops at Fort Stewart, GA. The first chosen would be high-level instructors with prior military service. As I was neither, I knew my chances for selection were nil, but that didn’t stop me from signing on as ready to serve.
Time went by, and as the weather cooled here in Florida, Appleseeds heated up. Busy with running events and trying to create more instructors, I thought little of the Fort Stewart event.
Our State Coordinator Eric had asked Master Instructor Ron or “Son of Martha” as we call him, to come down and teach an Instructor Boot Camp for us in an effort to increase our staffing to meet our goals for 2010. Ron allowed our S.C, Eric and I to assist him with the class.
Shortly after I returned from the class, I received an odd Email from Ron asking me if I was still prepared to serve at Ft. Stewart. I of course responded in the affirmative, but still felt certain that I would not be called. In the time since I had signed up as available, two new events had been scheduled for the weekend before and after the week of the event at Ft. Stewart.
The day after I received the first Email from Ron came another very short one. “OK, I’ll need you”. What? Wow! Oh. What about the events before and after? How can I pull this off? I am committed to run the events, but I have to serve at Ft. Stewart. Am I up to nine days of Appleseeding?
Well, at Appleseeds one learns to improvise, so I just braced myself, packed nine Appleseeds T-shirts and headed out with little idea of what to expect. Owing to some great instructors, I was afforded the luxury of leaving the preceding Appleseeds event at mid-day on Sunday, which in turn allowed me to arrive with all of the other instructors scheduled to serve at Ft. Stewart.
We all met at Dave’s (AKA: Cannonman) home in nearby Hinesville and proceeded onto the base in a caravan of personal vehicles. Dave got us cleared through the front gate and passes to let us come and go that saw little use over the coming week.
We were shown to our barracks and we all chose bunks and then circled up for a pre-briefing from Ron, who was in charge of the event. We were issued a course of fire and a tentative plan for how we would approach doing something we had never done before – teach marksmanship to soldiers who would deploy into a combat zone in less than six months. Every one of us understood the gravity of the endeavor and would give 100%.
The first day was, in a word, “rough”. It began on a bright note when we met the “Officer in Charge”, or OIC of the range, one Lt. Singletary. He is in military terms, “one squared away soldier” and was of tremendous help all week long. Things went downhill from there. From a late arrival of the troops to 5+ hours of non-stop rain, our grit and that of the soldiers was well tested. We were forced to move the actual target line to get the rifle barrels out of the water. The soldiers never complained. God bless every one of them. We improvised. We adapted and from all reports, we overcame.
We all went back to our barracks, soaked and sore; we all limped into the chow hall. How would the soldiers feel about us eating with them? Well, within a few minutes, a soldier walked by with his tray and smiled and thanked us for what we had done. I know I felt relieved, but had little idea how this sort of reaction would affect me in the days to come.
After chow we held the standard Appleseeds “debriefing”, where each instructor says what they felt went well and what could be improved upon. In the Yankee tradition of our ancestors, we all shared our thoughts. Changes to the course of fire were made and we dragged our weary bodies to our bunks. I know I was concerned as to how I would last the week, and I suspect I had some company in that regard.
Each day got a little better; as we tailored our approach to the men and the rifles they were issued. I grew more and more attached to the soldiers and more concerned for their welfare. It’s one thing to watch the evening news and hear of the casualties – it’s another to look them in the eye in their “battle rattle” and wonder if they will come home.
Most of them were young men, but there were plenty of them that were my age or better (as I am 50, perhaps “worse” would be more accurate). They all had “regular” jobs and families. Some of them were “gung ho”, but most were just average Americans. They all had one thing in common. They were all going to be in harm’s way very soon.
The weather improved in the sense that the clouds left and the sun came out, but then in Georgia that creates a new set of concerns. It was easy for the instructors as we could wear anything we chose, but the soldiers had to stay in full uniform, with body armor and all manner of accoutrements. They are a tough bunch for sure and made me proud to be an American.
Ron found out that the soldiers were under the impression that we were all being very well paid to be there and so he modified his opening speech to include the volunteer nature of our organization and the fact that each instructor has paid his own way to get there. He also pointed out our qualifications; that any one of us could pick up a sighted in, rack-grade rifle and with standard ball ammo, score expert on the Army Qualification Target – the very same target they would be shooting at later in the day.
He told them each morning from there on out “In my book that means you owe us something. You owe us one day out of your one and only life, to bring us a teachable attitude and do your best to employ what we teach you”.
The men were most respectful before the new opening speech, but after that you could see the difference in their attitudes. They very much appreciated what we were doing and worked hard to put their new skills to work to improve their marksmanship.
By Wednesday, we could not go anywhere around the barracks without getting waves, handshakes, smiles and heartfelt thanks. It makes my eyes water to this day just think of it. Here these soldiers are going to war to make us safer and they were thanking us. I found it to be a humbling experience. I would do anything in my power to see just one more of them come home. I told them of the quote by George Orwell: “Men sleep peacefully at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their part”.
I also told them of their heritage. I told them of the true events of April 19th, 1775. We all did. We did so in the morning. We did so during lunch and after their own after-action report at the end of the day. We all did it, every chance we got. I know that I am not alone when I say that I felt a greater than ever sense of purpose in telling these “rough men” of the men and women who secured the Liberty they will soon risk their lives to defend. May the Lord watch over each them.
On our final day, we got two platoons of men who will see the worst of it. They were all Iraq veterans and will soon see their next tour of duty. It was good that we got them last, as they needed our best and by Friday, we had a pretty good system going. I was under the mistaken impression that National Guard troops were not placed in harm’s way. I learned many things at Ft. Stewart and of all of them - that was the hardest lesson. National Guard troops fight right along with regular Army and suffer a similar casualty rate.
At the end of the last day, the commander of the unit that we worked with came onto the range and had all his men circle up. With his second in command and our liaison, Sgt. Reinhardt at his side, the commander proceeded to tell us how impressed he was with our organization and with each of us personally.
He called each of our names and handed us commendations and certificates that made each of us honorary members of the 1st Battalion 178th Field Artillery – Swamp Fox Battalion. Each folder also contained a unit patch of the 218th Infantry Brigade. I will treasure these items until I am dust.
I had trouble keeping my eyes dry as the Sgt said his peace and so did he. Here is a 6’5” combat veteran and a man of obvious discipline who is so concerned about his men that he got choked up when discussing their improved marksmanship.
Sgt. Reinhardt told us what we all wanted to hear – what we all hoped would be the result of our efforts. He told us that more of the men we worked with would be coming home as a result of their improved marksmanship. Any concerns I might have had up to that point were washed away in an instant.
If I were ever afforded the opportunity to repeat what I did that week, I would not hesitate, no matter what the personal cost, as any effort or expense pales in comparison to an American soldier’s life.
As I said previously, I learned many things at Ft. Stewart. I learned that I am stronger than I thought I was. I learned how to eat a “MRE”. I learned that “Hoooah!” can be a question, an affirmation, or an exclamation depending upon the inflection and I now know all three. I learned what it feels like to be called sir by a man who deserves to be called sir. I learned many ways to improve myself as an instructor and as a person. Most importantly, I learned that American soldiers are the best in the world and everyone us of should kneel down and thank the Lord for every one of them.
On that last day, as the soldiers all filed past us to shake our hands, I looked each of them in the eye and said “It was an Honor and a Privilege Sir”.
PHenry