Stories
Joint Task Force - 6
In 1993 (August?), the 2-505 deployed to New Mexico for Joint Task Force 6 operations along the southern border. We arrived just as B Company, 3d Battalion, 75th Rangers were leaving, headed for Somalia. They had been using the same area for their train-up.
It was HOT and BRIGHT! That's what I remember most. For the first time, sunglasses were a part of the uniform. Of course, the Army issued us what we quickly named Birth Control Glasses.
I was the First Sergeant of Charlie Company. My Company Commander was Captain Casey Griffith, an excellent officer and the best commander I had as a First Sergeant. We were a good team, and I have never gotten over leaving him and Charlie to go to HHC.
Our mission was to conduct Military Training along the US-Mexico border and to report anything suspicious to US Border Control. The lads became very good at spotting drug traffickers and illegal migrants moving on foot through the brush. I became proficient at vectoring the agents to the people on the ground. Dragon Night Sights came in handy until we ran out of coolant bottles and batteries. Night Vision Goggles were nearly worthless. Binoculars and the Custom's Radio were our tools of choice. The ART2 scope on the M21 worked wonders. We did a lot of LP/OP training.
When we arrived at Base Camp, we took classes on our Rules of Engagement, humanitarian responsibilities, dangers, and environmental concerns. I had taken some of my nature books about bugs, birds, snakes, and plants. The boys took great pleasure in capturing creatures for me to identify. I threatened them with maximum punishment if they killed anything, with one exception; I put out a bounty on the rattlesnake that staked out the port-a-john every night.
It took us about a week of "holding it till morning" before catching him. Though the boys wanted him to face a firing squad, the CO paroled him, and I released him, under his recognizance, a few miles down the road.
They brought me a Tarantula and were amazed to see it walking all over me. Tarantulas are sweethearts unless you piss them off.
The CO and I placed the company's first CP in a semi-circle of three hills, giving us 360-degree observation of our area. I positioned the tents in the center of three hills and above the high watermark of the dry riverbed below. While the officers planned, the Platoon Sergeants and the boys got busy setting them up and unfolding their cots.
I remember it the next day when a flash flood proved that I had placed the tents too low, as water flowed through our tents, as we stood on top of our cots. The boys had a good time swimming in the receding river. I had a good time, watching, until I heard, "Get The First Sergeant!" I quickly realized that I was not as imposing or fast as I thought. Never try to outrun or outwrestle a company of Paratroopers.
We moved the tents. I don't remember where this was.
Out next Company CP was in an abandoned house close to Hachita. I can't find the house on Google Earth, but we must have been off of County 11, east of Highway 81.
Our NBC Training and my climb up Big Hatchet Peak are the only things I remember about this.
One of our Mission Essential Tasks was Nuclear, Biological, and Chemical Defense, which included living in our protective masks for six hours. I remember doing my tasks, checking the rest of the training, panicking, and sitting in the swing under the shade tree until the All-clear Signal. I realized long ago that I would not survive a chemical or biological attack. I'd rather die than live in that damn mask.
The climb up Big Hatchet Peak was great, except for the lightning storm. I took about ten guys up to the top, a challenge, that included only free climbing. At the top, a thunderstorm hit from the Mexican side of the mountain. We stashed all our rifles and the radio and hid under a small overhang. Lightning was striking all around us. I want to say that it fried the radio. I remember signaling the CP with my mirror to let them know we were OK.
Although we had a perfect view of the border, it was no good without a radio. We headed back down.
At the end of the mission, as we were packing out to come home, the Battalion laid on a couple of Marine choppers for us to jump. The birds were rattle-traps, but the jump was sweet. I got to jump an MC1-1C, a maneuverable chute, with a non-porous canopy. It gives the jumper a slow rate of descent and a soft landing. Though I fell much slower than anyone else, I still beat everyone to the turn-in point; I landed right next to it and did a stand-up landing. Then, of course, I fell over. The 82nd Airborne forbids Stand-up Landings.
That's all I remember. I don't remember leaving or coming home. I should have written this long ago.