Road Trip Anyone?

"The engine of a tank is a weapon just as the main gun" - Heinz Guderian
You can take the man out of the tank but you can't take the tank out of the man. I'm a tanker at heart. Long before I was a logistician I was a young Armor Officer and proud of being a member of the "Combat Arm of Decision". Even now I still fondly look upon the few remaining tanks in Iraq with loving affection. Ask me and I'll tell you - "The mission of Armor is to close with and destroy the enemy by firepower, maneuver and shock effect." At this closing stage of the war the only tanks remaining are the ones we're trying to ship home. In their place, the troopers of Armor and Armored Cavalry units roll around in poor substitues known as MRAP (typical military acronym that stands for Mine Resistant Ambush Protected). They come in various configurations and styles. We rely on them to escort our truck convoys and keep them safe in the event of trouble along the way. The most common versions are called MaxxPro, with a larger cousin known as the RG33. They are all basically armored trucks with V-shaped hulls and side armor skirts that can defeat shape charges and IED's. A .50 caliber M2 Heavy Barrel Machine Gun or a 7.62mm M240 MG represents the main weapon system and can be found in a small turret on top. Each of these are decked with a dizzying array of electronic counter warfare systems, radios, and tracking systems. While they are a far cry from tanks, they are a huge step up from the old field expedient gun trucks of a few years ago. Whenever I need to travel by convoy, I ride in one of the MRAP's. Such was the case a few days ago when I needed to travel from COB Adder north to Victory Base Compound. One of my transportation companies had a convoy headed up that way so I tagged along. It would be a night ride, as our SP was shortly before midnight. I was in for a long night.

One thing I did not say when describing the MRAP's was that they were a comfortable ride. The fact that they are new doesn't mean you can smell the leather of plush seats. Here is a fact - military vehicles are not made with fahrvergnugen in mind. This is especially true of armored vehicles. They are an indiscriminate killer of friend and foe alike. If you don't respect them and operate them correctly you will get hurt. In my day I've seen people lose fingers, break bones, and even worse when they didn't respect their equipment. The inside of an MRAP has ramrod straight seats for the passengers with harness seatbelts that strap you in like you're on a backboard gurney. The floors aren't flat due to the V-shaped hull. There are sharp edges everywhere, radio mounts, extra military gear, ammunition, and all other kinds of stuff everywhere. Worst of all, you are strapped into all this wearing your full combat gear of body armor, helmet, gloves, basic load of ammunition, personal weapon, protective eyewear, and the headphones of the vehicle intercom system. The MRAP I crawled into for the trip was an RG33, which is notorious for bouncing wildly in the back due to the tightly sprung suspension system. As chance would have it I was in the very back seat and directly over the rear wheels. The other hazard is the constant crescendo of noises - engine, radio, hydraulics, and other systems. This makes it necessary to wear earplugs the entire time. Triple-flanged earplugs become painful to wear after only a short time. Mine would be stuffed in my ears for the next ten hours straight. That's right, I said ten hours straight. Sometimes convoys encounter a few challenges along the way. Mine would be a case in point.

After our convoy briefing we mounted up, strapped in, and prepared to move out. Soon after we began to roll. An hour later we were still on COB Adder. There was another convoy ahead of us and they were having problems clearing the ECP (Entry Control Point). All the while I tried to get comfortable without success. My tactical vest was digging into my shoulders and pressing down at right angles into my thighs. This was making my legs tingle, which no amount of adjustment could correct. I tried not to focus on this by watching the crew members of the MRAP. They were a happy-go-lucky sort that I admire so much in Soldiers. I don't think any of them were over 24. They were joking on the intercom, offering me food and gatorade, and seemed completely at ease with jobs that would stress out others for the great risk required of each of them. The gunner was a big goofy Specialist who had scored a box of honeybuns somewhere and would offer me one practically on the hour, every hour (I never took one). He was also operating a mast-mounted infrared video monitor and let me watch the screen as he continually scanned the surrounding area. My strategy worked as soon I was dozing off in spite of my discomfort. But I woke up not long after when I realized we had stopped. We were on the MSR (Main Supply Route). One of the other MRAP's had broken down. For the next ninety minutes we waited as the recovery operation continued. Eventually we were rolling again. But it was a maddening start-stop brought on by various factors. There were other convoys on the road, Iraqi traffic also created traffic choke points, and there were the inevitable Iraqi Police checkpoints. I dozed when I could but every bump woke me back up with a violent jolt. My body became so stiff and numb I began to doubt I would be able to climb out of the RG33 without assistance. There were no "potty stops" either so if the urge hit a pee bottle would be necessary. The sun had been up for over two hours when we finally approached VBC. We had been on the road for over eight hours. It took another hour and a half to clear the ECP and roll on to the Convoy Support Center - where I would meet up with my POC and say so long to the convoy. I managed to crawl out on my own power and immediately grounded my gear. My shoulders were screaming and my legs were like jelly. A nearby port-o-jon gained about a gallon of my urine once I stumbled into the thing. I was just thankful to have arrived safe. Everyone was safe. We had trouble and delays but encountered no enemy action. But in head-to-head competition the convoy beat my ass.

I've been on many convoys during the course of multiple deployments. But they are never my preferred method of battlefield circulation. I had originally planned to return to Adder on the same convoy but decided right then I'd find a flight back. It turned out to be a very good call but that will have to be another story in another entry. My first priority upon arriving at VBC was to find coffee and then get to work. I had a ton of tasks that needed to happen. The lingering effects of the ten hour convoy ride up in the back of an RG33 would plague me for the rest of the day and into the evening. Maybe it's just because I'm getting older but I try not to believe such nonsense. I'm always a tanker at heart - always have been, always will be.