Training Private Ryan: 48 hour soldier

Sitting cold and wet with my back against a tree that held a chem-light in its branches, I was slightly frustrated with myself for deciding to spend the weekend doing field training exercises with the ROTC.

Our camp was at the SIUC police firing range. We arrived and put our rucksacks in the tents and then trudged through water and mud into the forest to practice tactical operations. I was clueless as to exactly what we were doing - I had very little training during the rush to camp. Plus, I was too cold and tired to really put much heart into it.

The day started when I awoke at 3 a.m. Friday to the sound of thunder and a feeling of dread because it was pouring rain, and I knew I would be spending the weekend outside.

The idea for an ROTC story had been presented to me a few days earlier. ROTC was doing field training all weekend. They said they wanted a reporter but not just an observer - they wanted one to suit up and try it out.

I hesitated and thought about it for a night and realized this would probably be the only chance I would ever have to shoot an M-16 and train with the U.S. Army.

Army Lt. Col. Monty Willoughby, professor of military sciences, said twice a year the Army ROTC does field training exercises at the SIUC police firing range. He said the spring training is different because it brings together 22 other schools and meets at Ft. Leonard Wood, Mo. The fall and spring training is preparation for Warrior Forge at Ft. Lewis, Wash., in the summer. He said 272 ROTC programs throughout the nation gather for this, and the cadets are assessed based on their performances.

I picked up my gear Thursday - without having a clue how to really wear or pack any of it - and headed to work, anxious and excited for the weekend. As Friday afternoon rolled around, I was stressed, nervous and ready to go.

At the time, I didn't think I would come away from the weekend having gained much more than basic Army skills. Not only was I taught how to take apart and put together an M-16, but I learned to look past the uniform. I learned to see people, not camouflage.

And so, my 48-hour Army career began late Friday afternoon.

Friday

My first stop was Kesnar Hall, where all the cadets met. I knew right away my Army etiquette was less than desirable as I repeatedly wore, or didn't wear, my hat at the appropriate time. My blunder-awareness only increased when someone said, "nice 'burns," and something about being a hippie, probably referring to my too-long-to-be-a-real-soldier hair.

I shrugged it off. After all, I was a civilian.

Shortly after arrival, I received the rifle I would cling to most of the weekend. When I went to sign out the rifle, they read my name off as "Brunch." From then on, I was called "Brunch" or "Branch," but I never knew why.

At about 4 p.m., or 16:00, we were lined up and ready to leave for camp. For about three miles, we walked on paved roads and trudged through tall grass, woods and water. Near the end of the walk, the rucksack began digging into my shoulders, and just when I thought I couldn't walk any longer, we arrived and put our equipment into the tents.

By this time, the rain had drenched everything in sight, and I was no exception. I hardly felt rested when we headed through mud into the woods to practice tactical operations. The only sounds I could hear were the slosh, slosh, sloshing of my boots.

At our destination, everyone formed a 360-degree parameter and faced outward to look for approaching enemies. Willoughby said this was a tactical operation cadets learned during the semester.

I strained my eyes to look into the forest but could only see the black silhouette of trees. Cold water terrorized my feet as I knelt in the mud. I realized how sore my body was as we got up to hike to the next location. I was told to sit near another tree, only this time I sat down on the damp foliage and promptly put my face into my poncho.

It was all I could do - I couldn't get warm, and my teeth were chattering.

If enemies crept up, I would have been useless. I was too busy thinking of a hot shower and a warm bed, but my thoughts were interrupted when my squad leader, Matt O'Daniel, a junior from Springfield studying economics, said it was time to go back to camp. The operation was over.

Sleep was only one steak-and-mushroom MRE, or Meals Ready to Eat, away. This military ration can be heated up using a warmer that reacts with water to produce steam, but I, like many others, ate it cold.

I climbed into my sleeping bag, or "fart bag," and was finally warm, except for the cold, hard M-16 that I was not allowed to part with.

Saturday

The early morning was cool and with a clear sky. I gazed upward at Orion's Belt as I brushed my teeth and prepared to eat hash browns, eggs, bacon and sausage.

I was excited to shoot my M-16, but first I learned safety, various shooting positions and how to zero my rifle, or adjust the way the rifle aims to fit the way my eyes see.

I was nervous walking onto the range, but the fear faded after I shot a few times. The rifle barely lurched back into my shoulder, and I actually felt confident after a short while. I'm not used to shooting guns, and my shooting was mediocre. Twenty-three out of 40 shots hit the mark, and I felt proud I hit at least 50 percent.

When everyone was done, we did the daytime land navigation course, where we used a map and compass to find markers in the surrounding area.

I was teamed with Ebony Thomas, a sophomore from Oak Park studying administration of justice, and Porsha Shumate, a sophomore from Chicago studying administration of justice. As we journeyed into the forest and thorn bushes, a thorn stuck into my ear and had to be ripped out.

The forest made me feel like I was far from civilization, but loud music changed this.

"Why do I hear bass?" Thomas said as she noticed the thumping sound of music coming from a nearby car.

The night course was easier, but by the end, I was exhausted from the day's hiking and fell asleep quickly in my fart bag.

Sunday

After waking to another beautiful morning, we were put into teams to accomplish an eight-stage field leader's reaction course scattered around camp. The drills assessed the leadership abilities of each cadet, who led his or her group during the various stages.

At one stage, the cadets were timed while they dismantled and reassembled an M-16. Bill Davis, a junior from Westerly, R.I., studying administration of justice, patiently showed me how to take apart and put together an M-16. That afternoon, he helped me clean my rifle so I could pass inspection.

I also faced Willoughby in paintball.

The stage taught partners how to move together and communicate while in combat. I partnered with Ebony Thomas and faced Willoughby and Christopher Norrington, a junior in university studies.

As I felt a paintball drive into my head, I knew I was dead. Afterward, I found paint on my chest and gun and realized I had been killed multiple times.

The course ended around noon, and we departed for Kesnar Hall, this time in a van.

As I sat in the van looking out the window, I knew my Army days were over and a hot shower was in sight. The last obstacle of the weekend remained - rifle cleaning.

We sat outside Kesnar Hall cleaning rifles for about four hours while Garth Brooks music blared from a truck stereo. As I thought about the friends I have in low places, I meticulously removed all dirt and carbon from my rifle with Q-tip after Q-tip.

Once my clean rifle was approved, I tiredly donned my rucksack one last time and walked back toward the Communications Building.

After showing off my Army gear and greasy hair to everyone in the newsroom, I caught a ride home and finally did the one thing I had been dying to do since Friday - I took a hot shower.

Ryan Rendleman can be reached at 536-3311 ext. 258 or ryan_rendleman@dailyegyptian.com.