Directly under the sun
Trent Reedy
The new year finds millions of Americans making resolutions. Many want to lose weight. Others hope to read a certain number of books. I may try to eat a vegetable. According to the internet, 25% of us will fail within the first week of setting the resolution. Less than 10% will ultimately succeed in their goal. If, during the course of this year, you find that you’re struggling to live up to your New Year’s resolution, don’t feel bad. Be encouraged by the realization that even some of our military professionals struggle, not just with personal hopes, but even with key aspects of their military duties.
A few years ago, I told you about my neighbor and good friend, retired Marine Col. Rick Brown. He recently told me about his experience years ago in a particular Marine training exercise that might make us, at our New Year’s resolutions worst, seem like genius champions.
Back in 1999, Brown was a captain, a logistics officer participating in training operations at the Marine Corps Air Ground Combat Center Twentynine Palms in the Southern California desert. Brown was in the mobile command post, helping to facilitate fuel, ammo, food, and water resupply to combat units. One night, he was struggling to connect a logistics train, or “log train,” convoy of fuelers and other resupply vehicles with a certain Marine infantry company.
Rick monitored the radio traffic. “Bravo Company, we’re not sure your grid. Please advise, over,” the log train radioed. “We’re not sure of our grid. We’ll swing a green chem light fast in a circle.” Silence on the line. “Did you see us?”
Chem lights are those little plastic glow sticks children sometimes take trick-or-treating. Twentynine Palms is over 1,000 square miles, larger than some small countries. “Negative, Bravo,” said log train. “No way we’re gonna see a tiny chem light way out here.”
“We’ll throw the light up in the air. See us now?”
“Negative.”
“Wait one, log train. Got a kid with a stronger arm to throw it higher. Trying again.”
“Negative, Bravo. We’re going to need eight-digit grid coordinates.” Log train wanted the position on the map.
Rick flopped back in his chair. “You got to be kidding me,” he said to his assistant, Lt. Winkle.
“That’s nothing, sir,” Winkle said. “A few years ago, I monitored radios on a different combat training exercise. Lt. Lang led a platoon to attack and secure a fixed position but was taking forever. Headquarters radioed for his location.”
“I’m on the objective,” Lang replied.
“Negative,” said HQ. “We’re on the objective, and you’re not here.”
Lang radioed in a hushed voice. “I am near the objective.”
The commander came on the radio. “Lt. Lang, give me your exact grid position.”
There was a long pause before Lang replied, “I am directly under the sun.”
Faithful readers, in case you were wondering, that’s not how the sun works.
“So you see, sir,” said Winkle to Brown that night at Twentynine Palms. “These aren’t the first Marines to seriously misunderstand basic land navigation.”
After a long time on the radio, Brown and others were able to help Bravo Company figure out how to describe their position accurately so that the log train could resupply those warriors and keep them going.
We have the glorious potential of a whole year before us, my friends. We face ambitious goals that may be difficult to realize. We’ll likely suffer setbacks, but like Lang and like the fine Marines of Bravo Company, if we keep trying, if we seek out help from our friends and allies, I’m hopeful that we’ll all find our way.
Trent Reedy, author of several books including Enduring Freedom, served as a combat engineer in the Iowa National Guard from 1999 to 2005, including a tour of duty in Afghanistan.
*Some names and call signs in this story may have been changed due to operational security or privacy concerns.