"I yield no man in sympathy, but I am obliged to sweat these men tonight so I may save their blood tomorrow." - Thomas J. "Stonewall" Jackson, Lt Gen, CSA
Training for war is no joke, never easy, and cannot be taken lightly at any moment. For two straight months we conducted training at "home station." We qualified our Soldiers as Combat Lifesavers, prepared them in their battle drills and developed our SOP's. Finally having a Command Sergeant Major and an Executive Officer made day-to-day life much easier for me, as at last I could focus on the future of the Battalion. Holes on the battle roster were filled with new faces. The staff got a taste for my expectations in the art of MDMP, mission analysis, and COA development. At last I was starting to have fun and finding my groove. Army War College was clicking on all cylinders during my "off" time. Slowly, steadily, yet clumsily, my self-guided instruction on the banjo was plodding ahead too. We took a well-earned break for the Christmas holidays to get our minds focused for the next step - Regional Training Center-West, Fort Hunter Liggett, CA.
Training for war is no joke, never easy, and cannot be taken lightly at any moment. For two straight months we conducted training at "home station." We qualified our Soldiers as Combat Lifesavers, prepared them in their battle drills and developed our SOP's. Finally having a Command Sergeant Major and an Executive Officer made day-to-day life much easier for me, as at last I could focus on the future of the Battalion. Holes on the battle roster were filled with new faces. The staff got a taste for my expectations in the art of MDMP, mission analysis, and COA development. At last I was starting to have fun and finding my groove. Army War College was clicking on all cylinders during my "off" time. Slowly, steadily, yet clumsily, my self-guided instruction on the banjo was plodding ahead too. We took a well-earned break for the Christmas holidays to get our minds focused for the next step - Regional Training Center-West, Fort Hunter Liggett, CA.
Now I had always heard that Hunter Liggett was this super high-speed training base hitherto known only to Special Forces types. I'd never been there, never seen any photos, and figured it would be pointless to find it on a map. After all, why would I ever go there? I'm not prone to walk around humming the "Ballad of the Green Berets" or stay awake at 0300 sharpeni
ng my bayonet. Besides, my Battalion falls into the Combat Service Support category. Well, it seems, the SF folks decided to share their beloved gem of an Army outpost. It is now one of the designated training centers where folks like me go to be validated in our individual and collective Warrior Tasks. Those are the basic skills - weapons qualification, combatives, land navigation, first aid, etc - that every Soldier has to be certified in prior to deployment (and also annually in peacetime). Our month of January would be spent in this dusty, sleepy, secluded place that's located somewhere in California wine country (or so they say).
ng my bayonet. Besides, my Battalion falls into the Combat Service Support category. Well, it seems, the SF folks decided to share their beloved gem of an Army outpost. It is now one of the designated training centers where folks like me go to be validated in our individual and collective Warrior Tasks. Those are the basic skills - weapons qualification, combatives, land navigation, first aid, etc - that every Soldier has to be certified in prior to deployment (and also annually in peacetime). Our month of January would be spent in this dusty, sleepy, secluded place that's located somewhere in California wine country (or so they say). 
We flew out on a chartered flight. My banjo accompanied me on the plane. The flight attendants immediately assumed I'm an expert picker. That I am not, but, I did agree to their requests and pulled out my 5-string. I wowed them with those beginner favorites like "Cripple Creek," "Old Joe Clark," "John Henry," and "Jesse James." After a refuel stop in Kansas, we landed in San Jose. There we enjoyed a burger from IN-N-OUT. Being the commander, I was the last to grab a burger and it was cold. Unfortunately, I cannot vouch for what the fuss is all about. Almost two hours later we finally reached our destination after circumnavigating winding roads with numerous jagged hills that revealed bare evidence of earth-shattering tectonic activity. Fort Hunter Liggett? Are you kidding me? This is it?
For the next twenty one days we trained with no abandon. Everywhere around us were jackrabbits that eyed us curiously and always managed to hop a few feet away from us when approached. The post seemed practically abandoned. There was no wi-fi. The bowling alley was closed
on the weekends. There was a bar at the post guest quarters but it was practically never open and, even when it was, closed at around 2100. Yet against this backdrop of "twin-peaks" dreariness we trained. My Battalion came together. They sang cadences marching to and from training. They packed the gym at night. They greeted me with motivation whenever they saw me. My command team drew closer and talked of the coming deployment. The magic moments of command were at work, processing feelings and emotions that those who never command will never know the joys of experiencing. Command is intoxicating and I embrace it. I simply can't understand any Officer who doesn't seek opportunities to command. But I digress...
on the weekends. There was a bar at the post guest quarters but it was practically never open and, even when it was, closed at around 2100. Yet against this backdrop of "twin-peaks" dreariness we trained. My Battalion came together. They sang cadences marching to and from training. They packed the gym at night. They greeted me with motivation whenever they saw me. My command team drew closer and talked of the coming deployment. The magic moments of command were at work, processing feelings and emotions that those who never command will never know the joys of experiencing. Command is intoxicating and I embrace it. I simply can't understand any Officer who doesn't seek opportunities to command. But I digress...
Our time at Fort Hunter Liggett went by very quickly. Every single Soldier in the Battalion successfully qualified in all of their Warrior Tasks. When we arrived we were still a loosely-knit organization. By the time we left we marched in step to the same tune. Trust in the chain-of-command was complete. The Army Values were internalized as a team. However, Fort Hunter Liggett was unchanged. Only the weather was warmer. All else remained frozen in time. I did suffer the worst haircut of my entire life right before we departed. Thinking it would be good to go home looking sharp, I popped into the PX barber shop. There were two chairs so I took the first one to open. As the lady was cutting the top of my head the attachment on the clippers came off, which resulted in a bald spot front and center. When she saw what had happened she offered to paint in the stubble with mascara, claiming it would blend with the rest of my hair. What the F#@*? Then she offered to hold a tuft of my hair in place using hairspray. I couldn't believe she was serious. Finally, I just told her to go "zero" all over. I walked in looking to get a nice "high and tight." When I walked out I was bald and spitting mad. It's comical now but at that precise moment in time I was not laughing. She did have enough sense not to charge me for her masterpiece. Good call on her part.
Then we bid farewell to Fort Hunter Liggett. At 0130 we loaded the buses and moved out to San Jose. It was too dark to scan the barren landscape one last time. I don't think I'll come back. Yet, I will fondly remember the time we were here and forever be thankful to the professional NCOs of RTC-W who devoted 21 days to my Battalion. Thanks go to the jackrabbits too for being such observant friends. I may have chased you but it was all in good fun. Hold down the fort bunnies!
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