Ranger School: A Reflection on Toughness

COL Sam Russell — Sat, 22 Aug 2015 11:58:36 -0400

I was fortunate, lucky really, to have made it through without recycling--I received go's on all my patrols, and I attribute that more to luck and some damn good squad members than anything I did. As anyone who has traversed the woods of Benning, mountains of Dahlonega, swamps of Eglin--and in my time the deserts of Dugway--knows, any ranger instructor (RI) can fail any student on any patrol over any number of lapses. I had a couple of the toughest gut checks of my life at the school, and coming out of the then all-male VMI I had already had a few.

There was the 12-mile ruck march during the Darby phase at Benning where my piss was orange before we started (not a good sign). The "bat boy" next to me predicted I'd drop before the end of the march. My feet swelled to the point that I couldn't take off my boots and didn't want to because getting them back on would be impossible. In fact, I didn't want to stop at mandatory rest halts because my body went numb while moving, but was wracked with pain at halts. The heat cramps began at about mile 8, and I remember saying over and over again in my head--and by the end, out loud--"never say die" to the point that I likely resembled a walking zombie more than a disciplined soldier. I finished only because I was determined to literally drop from heat exhaustion before quitting. Fortunately, 12 miles ended before I did. My peers, who almost ended my journey at the end of that phase (I was second to the bottom in our first peer evals) took a rare moment of pity on me and pulled my tasks for the next two hours while I drank every drop of water I could fit in my gut and lay on my back with quivering heat cramps. At least that's how I recall it 26-years later.

The second and greatest gut check came in the East Bay Swamp. It was my turn to "hump the pig," that is to carry the squad's M60 machine gun. After traversing down the Yellow River in zodiacs, we disembarked, and I took possession of our unit's greatest casualty producing weapon. If memory serves, it weighed about 25 pounds including the ammo I carried in my ruck, which was probably around 65 pounds itself. Most of the ammo and the tripod was carried by my ranger buddy who served as the assistant gunner. If you've carried an M60 you know there is no easy way to distribute its weight for a long duration. That night in the East Bay Swamp probably didn't last more than eleven hours, but it seemed unending to me. I recall the Ranger Training Battalion commander accompanied our platoon that night. Every ranger school class is different depending on the time of year and weather. In our case, it was late April, and unseasonably dry. It didn't rain a drop during the two weeks we were in the swamp. The result was the swamp, which is normally about waist to armpit deep with water, was drained leaving a bed of mud and muck. Every step saw my feet sink about a foot and required precious energy to extract from the mire. The "pig" seemed to catch on every vine and branch in the swamp, requiring me to yank it free. Within a few hours my noise discipline was non-existent as I swore with every step I took. By 0200 or 0300 I had come to the conclusion that I was done, mentally if not physically. Quitting was the only logical choice to end my misery. I kept going for two reasons. I knew there was no way to get a helicopter or boat to our location, and even if I quit then and there, I would still have to hump out of that swamp. And, if I quit, that meant someone else would have to hump that pig, and most of them already had a turn at it.

By the time we got back to Benning at the end of the Florida phase and were awaiting our airborne trip out to Dugway, Utah, for the desert phase, I was pretty sure I had received a "go" in all of my patrols (you didn't see your results until the end of the course). I recall one of the RI company commanders asking me publicly if I knew that the Quartermaster Corps was undefeated. I didn't know what he was talking about then, but realized later that he was indicating I had passed all my patrols. I was one of only about five in the platoon that had no negative major or minor spot reports and had passed all patrols. So, I was picked to be the squad leader for our airborne assault into the desert.

As I recall, our mission after a successful airborne insertion was to conduct an assault on some fighting positions around the airfield. It was our second jump at ranger school, as our jump in the swamps was scratched. I had attended Airborne school as a cadet almost four years earlier, so my experience was nil, and the only airborne refresher I received at ranger school was practicing parachute landing falls (PLF) off a trash can. My jump into Dahlonega out of a Blackhawk was an inglorious tree-landing where I was wedged about 100 feet up in a hardwood oak--emphasis on the HARD. Trees weren't an obstacle in the deserts of Dugway. After a four hour stomach churning flight where my not-for-preflight-or-inflight-use-MRE ensured I was as nauseous as a greenhorn sailor, the doors of the C141 opened, and that air beckoned a quick leap into the slip stream. It was my worst exit. I staggered to the door, handed off my static line to the safety, turned about 15 degrees and walked into the side of the door, which spun me out of the aircraft. I entered the blast spinning like a top twisting my risers and suspension lines as my chute deployed. I felt the shock of my chute opening and tried to check my canopy. The twists in my chute kept my head down, and I fell back on my pre-jump training. Grasping the risers I pulled them apart and began bicycling furiously. It seemed like a couple of minutes--but likely was less than 60 seconds--before I felt the final twist pop out and I began spinning the other direction twisting my suspension lines the other way. Finally all the twists came out and I then checked for fellow jumpers to see my rate of descent. No one was around me. Apparently my twisted lines had decreased the size of the opening in my chute and caused me to descend faster than anyone else. I looked for the ground and realized I was almost on it. I released my ALICE pack, which smashed into the ground before it reached the end of my lowering line. I had no time to release my weapon, and I came down on top of my ruck sack with my weapon still attached--a perfect three point PLF: feet, ass, head. On the ground and uninjured, it was a successful jump.

For the first time during our training at ranger school we dawned MILES gear for the assault on the fighting positions. My squad leader duties weren't over until we had secured our objective. The assault required about a 1,500 meter bound to the enemy positions. We started taking fire but continued to move in an upright position. My RI started killing off squad members with his "god" gun if they weren't bounding properly. Before long, I was taken out. Only three of our members were bounding to the RI's satisfaction, and they made it to the enemy position and quickly dispatched them. As I had been "killed" early in the assault, I was sure I had my first no-go, but since my squad mates successfully completed the mission, I passed the patrol. No one makes it through ranger school on their own.

To quote country music legend Kris Kristofferson, "Nothing was harder than Ranger school! In my life! Ever! We’d average about two and a half hours of sleep a night in the mountains and the swamps. It’s all been a walk in the park since then!"

The gut-check that I never had to face at ranger school, was deciding to carry on after being recycled. I completed the then 4-phase course in 60 days, and had the utmost respect for those rangers that repeated a phase or two. Griest and Haver, the first women to graduate, repeated the whole course, essentially going through ranger school twice. Tougher than I had it.

Response by MAJ Ken Landgren made Aug 22 at 2015 12:05 PM

MAJ Ken Landgren — Sat, 22 Aug 2015 12:05:39 -0400

That is a tremendous story, and thank you for your thoughts. Pat Tillman once wrote he faced fears of not graduating from the Ranger Course.

Response by SFC Private RallyPoint Member made Aug 22 at 2015 12:11 PM

SFC Private RallyPoint Member — Sat, 22 Aug 2015 12:11:22 -0400

Your Florida phase experience sounds just like mine, except instead of humping the pig I was the AB and the AG. Our platoon was down to about 27 people and we only had enough guys for 2 man gun teams. I had the old school, ridiculously heavy tripod and pintle, plus probably 800 rounds of 7.62. It was unbearable. I was stuck in a swamp a little lower than waist high. I think it was Gumdrop. We would take two steps and stand there for 10 minutes. It literally took hours to make it through. I wanted to quit. I even cried a little crocodile tear. But, I realized no one was going to fly a jungle penetrator down to pull me out. If I refused to carry my ruck my squad would have to carry it. So, I shut up and carried on to the other side of the swamp where there was just no point in quitting.
For the girls, they didn't repeat the whole school, they did Darby twice then had a Day 1 insert. But, I commend anyone with the fortitude to redo RAP week after two phases of Ranger School.

Response by LTC Private RallyPoint Member made Aug 22 at 2015 3:11 PM

LTC Private RallyPoint Member — Sat, 22 Aug 2015 15:11:09 -0400

COL Sam Russell, great story sir. I had the same reflection that you did, especially after I read this article: http://sofrep.com/42761/really-happened-women-ranger-school-class-06-15/.

I was fortunate enough to go straight through, primarily attributable to good luck and great Ranger Buddies. I failed my first patrol in Darby as a squad leader on the OBJ, and my second as a planning PL. I made it through Phase I by the skin of my teeth as a Recon team leader. I got three Go's in Mountains (PL, PSG, WSL), and only one patrol (PL) in Florida.

I adopted the mantra of "quit tomorrow," but came very near to "quit now" in Mountains. Had I recycled, I would be lying if I said I was certain I would not have quit.

Response by MSG Private RallyPoint Member made Nov 17 at 2015 7:31 AM

MSG Private RallyPoint Member — Tue, 17 Nov 2015 07:31:11 -0500

I recycled mountains during Best Ranger! I however think I had one of the last easy courses. We could dip and smoke back then!

Response by CPT Pedro Meza made Nov 17 at 2015 6:02 PM

CPT Pedro Meza — Tue, 17 Nov 2015 18:02:04 -0500

Well stated Sir.

Response by 1SG David Lopez made Nov 18 at 2015 12:35 AM

1SG David Lopez — Wed, 18 Nov 2015 00:35:31 -0500

I laughed with great memories while reading your posting. I say again, I LMAO while at work, my SGT's must have thought I was crazy. Anyhow, loved your story. Will get back to you as it is closing time.

Response by MSG Danny Mathers made Aug 5 at 2018 9:12 AM

MSG Danny Mathers — Sun, 05 Aug 2018 09:12:50 -0400

I was fortunate to get all GO's on all the phases. However, I was a highly trained NCO in Land Navigation and did the OPORDs the way they taught. I was alway either point or compass man on patrols when not in a leadership position or humping the radio or the damn pig. I even hit the exact rope bridge site in Florida in the dark in ass deep water. I got a major minue for sleeping while dead in Darby and 2 major pluses, one for saving a student life, he was stung about a 100 time by ground bees which his pulse was 120 plus. I mainlined the bee sting scringe and got him stablized. The other was for the rope bridge. I got cellulitus the last week in Florida and was sent back to the hospital. I graduated an Honor Graduate. My Troop Sergeant Major was pleased. Had I flunked or had a self inflicted injury, I'd been ordered out of the Unit. The major thing I learned from the experience is you have to get physical with troops to motrivate them. I had to pull our chapolin off a guy that caused him to fail his critical patrol. Padre was beating the hell out of him. We got him Tabbed on the next patrol. All my guys were tabbed nbefore the main water assault I learned there is a reason for no rank in Ranger School; fights happen! I had a good squad of Battalion Babies. Ranger Unit Privates are the best in the Army. Better than some sergeants I had to deal with in the regular army that were just slugs. Germany was ate up with worms, privates, SP4s & NCOs which was my treason to get into Special Operations. The officers were amoung the best!

Response by MSG Danny Mathers made Jun 29 at 2019 12:45 PM

MSG Danny Mathers — Sat, 29 Jun 2019 12:45:22 -0400

Ranger School was what got me to hate Leggs. They got over big time, didn't get dropped into a swamps, trees and a mud hole. They didn't spend a day getting chutes out of trees and got extra ZZZ's on the back of a truck. If you are not airborne, you ain't shit when it comes to a ranger tab. Opinions vary......