What was your "scariest" moment in the military?

ENS Private RallyPoint Member — Fri, 16 Sep 2016 01:50:08 -0400

From silly pranks to standing in front of the CO, from waking up with 5 minutes before movement to the craziness of war - what have been some of your "scariest" moments in the military?

**This is meant to be light-hearted. If there is a dark past you do not or should not uncover, please do not feel the need to do so. We, as a community are here to offer support 24/7 to anyone in need.**

Response by COL Lee Flemming made Sep 16 at 2016 1:51 AM

COL Lee Flemming — Fri, 16 Sep 2016 01:51:31 -0400

Two way MOUT live fire in Iraq...mostly for my men! (Military Operations in Urban Terrain). Distant second was a near plane crash over the Med!

Response by PO1 William "Chip" Nagel made Sep 16 at 2016 2:03 AM

PO1 William "Chip" Nagel — Fri, 16 Sep 2016 02:03:06 -0400

That is Easy! Front Row Seating for Fiery Vigil, 18 miles downhill from Mt Pinatubo Middle of Jun 1991. Largest Volcanic Eruption in a Century. Next time I want to be further away.

Response by SGM Steve Wettstein made Sep 16 at 2016 3:03 AM

SGM Steve Wettstein — Fri, 16 Sep 2016 03:03:25 -0400

DSHK 12.7 mm tracer rounds whizzing past my head in Iraq.

Response by 1SG Private RallyPoint Member made Sep 16 at 2016 3:56 AM

1SG Private RallyPoint Member — Fri, 16 Sep 2016 03:56:37 -0400

Story Time.
In the spirit of previous posts I've made, SPOILER ALERT: Hijacking a UN vehicle is a bad idea. So is getting in an Afghan Taxi cab.

Kids, do not try this if you get an opportunity. I was fortunate this didn't wind up worse than it did.

So no shit, there I was, Afghanistan, 2003.
Back then, the country and the outposts weren't built up yet, and outside of Salerno, Bagram, Khandahar, and K2 most Soldiers lived in safe houses or very small compounds. Internet was spotty at best, and the CA Detachment we had in Herat was notoriously difficult to communicate with. Since we were up against suspenses for end of tour paperwork, it was decreed that we would bring the mountain to Mohammed, in the form of yours truly.
Now, getting from Bagram to Herat in those days was no small feat. You had three basic choices:
1. Drive there on the Ring Road. Not really a serious consideration.
2. Hop on the log rings from Bagram to Salerno to K2 to Herat. This journey would take the better part of a week, if the weather held up.
3. Hop a UNAMA (United Nations Assistance Mission to Afghanistan) flight from Kabul to Herat.
Option three was selected.
After some trials and tribulations getting on the bird - twice getting marooned at Kabul International - once because the flight was cancelled for Eid al Fatr and once because I was taken to the civilian instead of the military terminal - not to mention a side adventure to secure turkeys for Thanksgiving (a great story by itself), eventually I got on the mangiest plane any of you have ever seen and made the trip. The plane was an AN-12, I think; looked like the bastard child of an A-10 and a C-130. It literally had to zig-zag to shoot the saddles in the ridgelines since it couldn't climb high enough to clear the Hindu Kush.
The plane was full of young UN volunteers. If you've never had occasion to meet these kinds of folks, they were hipsters before being a hipster was cool. Or maybe hippies a couple of decades late. I don't know, but every single cliché you can think of was represented there. Puchuli Oil, check. Birkenstocks, check. Hemp shirts, check. In any event, not my kind of folks. This will become relevant later in the story.
After a long flight where I kept my nose firmly buried in a book to avoid talking to these nimrods, we landed at Herat "International Airport". I suppose it probably had flights that came in from Iran. All the airfield consisted of was a control tower (unmanned), a tool shed (with useful aviation tools such as scythes and two-handed saws), and a guard shack. At the end of the runway was a pile of wrecked Soviet MiG-21's and a couple of broken down Mi-8's. A tumbleweed rolled by as I walked out the door.
Looking about, I can't help but notice that there are no US forces there to pick me up.
Meh.
I walked about a bit to see if maybe they're behind a building.
No such luck.
So I walk up to the UN Muldoon who looks to be in charge. Introducing myself, I ask him if he can give me a ride into town, in the event that my ride fails to appear. To my surprise, he says "no, we don't give rides to American Soldiers".
"What do you mean, 'you don't give rides to American Soldiers'? I just got off the same plane you did!"
He says, "We have an agreement to share aircraft seats, if available, but ground transportation to a belligerent party would be seen as taking sides."
Summoning my CA charm, I pointed out that I was travelling in civilian clothes, and don't look markedly different from the other passengers on the plane. No dice.
I pointed out that it would not be OK, probably dangerous, to leave me there alone when he had the means to conduct me to a safe location in the spirit of our shared mission to bring peace and stability to the people of Afghanistan. He could care less.
Feeling my blood start to boil, I decided to turn away and consider my options, muttering under my breath that I happened to be the only one there with a gun.
I tried walking over to talk to the Mujahaddin Militia that was guarding the airstrip. Asking if they'd seen any Americans today. The response I got back in Farsi - of course one of the languages that I hadn't studied up on - was something like "Durka, durka. No Habla"
Meh. So what to do?
Option one - I could wait and hope my ride would appear. Knowing that the logistics bird came once every two weeks and the reliability of the person who was supposed to transmit that I was en route was questionable - nay, very much in doubt, this seemed a bad idea.
Option two - I could get back on the plane and go back to Kabul, tail between my legs and a mission failure. That was not very palatable, especially given the trouble it took to get there in the first place.
Option three - I could take off on foot and try to get to the safehouse. I had reconnoitered the route, and I knew it was a ways away. Brigands and worse were commonplace out there, and I was carrying a fair amount of classified material and had only 30 rounds (travelling light due to the nature of the flight) and had no commo (to my chagrin, I was told I "didn't need it" when I left Bagram). And I was less confident where in the city the safe house was than when I left a week earlier. Hmmm... nope.
Option four - I could attempt to reason with the UN guy again, and if that doesn't work, be more assertive given the fact I was armed. This was starting to look like a good idea. Even though I had no interest in going to jail or starting an international incident, I was not about to get stuck there alone with just the pogy bait in my backpack to sustain myself.
In the meantime, the plane had taxied away and was preparing to leave. Option two eliminated.
This time UN guy was a little more amenable, but still denied my charm and wit.
Crap.
As I was considering the merits and demerits of option four, up walks one of the militia guys and says something like "durka, durka TAXI, mumbo jumbo".
Hmmm... perhaps another option presents itself.
So I walk over with him and he starts to get in what looks like his POV. Looks sort of like a taxi with it's orange and white paint job (like nearly every passenger car in Afghanistan), but old boy has it pimped out in shag carpet on the doors and ceiling and a sweet disco ball hanging from the rearview mirror.
Jesus Christ.
I thought for a moment. Single driver, and I am armed and in the back seat behind him. I should be able to handle this.
Against all common sense, I get in and tell him to get me to the PRT in Herat.
No habla.
Sigh.
So I find a UN guy who speaks English and Farsi and get him to explain to my driver where I am trying to go. And we are on our way.
I tried to keep it cool, but as we passed through checkpoints guarded by some very questionable characters, I was getting pretty anxious. I knew we were heading the correct direction (North) on the only road to be had out there, but as the ride went on and no Herat in sight, the mind began to wander towards bad case scenarios. When we crossed the Helmand River, I relaxed a bit, knowing that was about halfway there. Good thing I didn't decide to be stubborn and take off walking; that was a lot further than I thought. Probably 40KM or so.
Gradually, Herat comes into view. After a long day, I was very interested in chilling out with my guys. But then, Herat is on my 9 o'clock, then my 8...
Crap. MF'er sold me out.
I rack a round, explaining again that our destination is the PRT.
"Yes, yes. PRT!" says the Muj.
Finally, we start making turns, heading into the core of the city and eventually arriving in front of a walled compound with guard towers. Looks promising.
Unfortunately, all I see are more militiamen. Not a US Soldier in sight.
Thinking I'm screwed I resolve that if this goes South, I am definitely going to grease the guy who drove me there before I wind up in some warlord's basement.
The Muj start to approach, seeing a vehicle standing near the gate. I got out, pointing my weapon at the driver, but keeping it low so the guards wouldn't see right away.
Just as they get too close, one of them squints at me and says "American?"
What the hell. "Yes", I manage to say.
Excited mumbo jumbo from the guards leads to one of them going in the compound. Out walks a scruffy Soldier that looked like he'd gone native long ago.
"What are you doing here?"
I explained who I was and why I was there.
Incredulous, the SF Soldier says "You came here in that?"
"Yup. Looked like the best of a bunch of bad ideas."
Turns out that the PRT had moved to the new location while I was in Kabul. I was lucky that anyone was there, the SF guy explained to me. He was only there to grab some furniture and "comfort items" that the ODA had stashed there.
Lucky me.
Well, the mission was accomplished, although I had to explain to persons of ever-increasing rank (culminating with then BG Lloyd Austin, now Vice Chief of the Army) how I had come to be unaccounted for and self-navigated Helmand Province. I was alternately yelled at or given a coin, sometimes both. I think most of the vitriol was aimed at my CoC, though. I had a very specific PFC manning the radio on the day I left to give a little personal time and attention to.

I have been on quite a few adventures in my time in the Army. Been shot at; lost some Soldiers. But I have never been more scared than I was at the point it looked like I'd wind up in an Afghan Warlord's basement.

Response by SN Kevin Neff made Sep 16 at 2016 4:57 AM

SN Kevin Neff — Fri, 16 Sep 2016 04:57:24 -0400

Jam Dive in the middle of the Atlantic.

Response by SCPO Jason McLaughlin made Sep 16 at 2016 5:40 AM

SCPO Jason McLaughlin — Fri, 16 Sep 2016 05:40:43 -0400

Let's just say that one should never break a stink bomb into an air handling unit the day after transiting the Straits of Hormuz without first knowing which spaces that air handling unit services.

Response by SGT David A. 'Cowboy' Groth made Sep 16 at 2016 7:38 AM

SGT David A. 'Cowboy' Groth — Fri, 16 Sep 2016 07:38:33 -0400

Went up against Western Michigan Universities ROTC Rangers in an FTX, kicked some Ranger butt, had fun messing with a Pych. students mind.

Response by SGT David T. made Sep 16 at 2016 7:46 AM

SGT David T. — Fri, 16 Sep 2016 07:46:09 -0400

I was on a convoy in my fuel truck heading back to BIAP from Abu Ghraib (after all the prisoners were moved elsewhere) on my last tour and an IED went off and hit the truck behind me. I really don't like using fuel truck and IED in the same sentence lol.

Response by Col Joseph Lenertz made Sep 16 at 2016 8:01 AM

Col Joseph Lenertz — Fri, 16 Sep 2016 08:01:53 -0400

Picking up an American hostage from Zamboanga, island of Mindanao, Philippines, 2003. Post 9/11, even VIP/SAM aircrews were armed and body armored to help prevent a hijacking. ROE was NO ONE gets on the jet without PACOM CDR approval. No one. A civilian walks toward my airplane nonchalantly...no badge, no ID. It was loud outside, helicopters and jet engines running. I shout at the top of my lungs for him to halt. Wait 5 seconds. Shout again. Now he's maybe 15 yards from the bottom of the stairs, so I'm pretty sure he hears me. He must have seen me rack the 9mm and aim at his chest, because he stopped 5 yards from the stairs, thankfully. I was scared shitless I was going to have to shoot a random (apparently) unarmed dude. Turns out he was a Navy Captain. He hadn't seen a VIP C-40B before and wanted a tour. No idea why he wasn't in uniform. Glad I didn't shoot him. He never got on board.

Response by MCPO Roger Collins made Sep 16 at 2016 8:04 AM

MCPO Roger Collins — Fri, 16 Sep 2016 08:04:43 -0400

Being on a submarine passing through test depth twice, underwater earthquake, or an underwater collision with an unknown will tighten your sphincter muscle.

Response by CPO Private RallyPoint Member made Sep 16 at 2016 8:17 AM

CPO Private RallyPoint Member — Fri, 16 Sep 2016 08:17:28 -0400

1991, Shield turned into storm, The first time we took incoming Frog missiles and the CBR alarm went off and they yelling MOPP-4. The thing is we didn't know if we got slimed or not from the rockets, we were on edge waiting for the survey teams to test. So being in MOPP-4 first time for real. A couple weeks later up on the border with Marine Special Task Force Troy,the deception Task Force, Being up on the border berm itself and looking at a Russian T50-2 tank in the day time looking at us.

The other would be 12 years later at a forward staging area March 19th and then the 20th came and we were given the get ready to move into and cross the LOD (Line of Departure) into Iraq or bad guy country. The not knowing what was going to happen from CBR, to taking first contact,very unnerving and this time I was leading young troops into battle,vice being the young troop. I would wounder if I was going to make the right decisions under pressure in combat.

Response by Maj Marty Hogan made Sep 16 at 2016 8:31 AM

Maj Marty Hogan — Fri, 16 Sep 2016 08:31:29 -0400

First real deployment after 9/11- when we got where we were going the base was on shut down because a local business outside the wall was bombed. Sort of brought home why we were there. Lighter side- briefing a General on a subject he had as much knowledge as I did. If you do not understand the ramifications of that statement you need to re-read it. I was an E-7 at the time and yes he did ask "Are you sure?"

Response by SFC George Smith made Sep 16 at 2016 9:48 AM

SFC George Smith — Fri, 16 Sep 2016 09:48:46 -0400

In free-fall, a Delayed opening on my main parachute... and a several broken and tangled Control lines resulting in a near cigarette roll ...and a Sniveled opening on the reserve... resulting in Extremely High Pucker factor... and a moment for a look to the heavens and a silent ..."Thank You" ... and "when i get my hands on the Rigger I will send Him Up on the express elevator"...

Response by MSG Private RallyPoint Member made Sep 16 at 2016 9:51 AM

MSG Private RallyPoint Member — Fri, 16 Sep 2016 09:51:03 -0400

After a night of serious drinking (and luckily I had the next day off), I was awakened by my 1SG for a Health and Welfare STILL drunk off my six.

Response by SSG Carlos Madden made Sep 16 at 2016 10:38 AM

SSG Carlos Madden — Fri, 16 Sep 2016 10:38:46 -0400

In hindsight maybe the "scariest" may have been driving around Camp Taji with over $850,000

Response by CAPT Kevin B. made Sep 16 at 2016 10:54 AM

CAPT Kevin B. — Fri, 16 Sep 2016 10:54:03 -0400

Funny how the scariest moments aren't recognized as such until afterwards like a firefight or tracked vehicle going up in Antarctica depositing my butt some distance away. You just don't have the time to process the pucker factor right then. So it's the longer term stuff like doing a SAR in a whiteout with the fear that you won't be able to find the downed Huey or take too long and they freeze, etc. We tend to think about the worst as it plays out. Usually it turns out better but on occasion, it's much worse. Some fears are long term like being a Skipper and doing everything you can to keep your people alive knowing the odds are against you. So for me they were all scary in different ways. Some things that you don't have time to process then are what create the longest term issues. For me, I had to learn to build and maintain a dragon cage. But we all came out alive and that's the BEST!

Response by SGM Mikel Dawson made Sep 16 at 2016 10:56 AM

SGM Mikel Dawson — Fri, 16 Sep 2016 10:56:29 -0400

My engineer squad was doing demo. We had set a ring main and ready to blow. Everyone was back to the back off distance. We'd lit the manual fuse on the way back, now time for the electric - no go. I said no problem, I asked for how much time we got, so we waited. Time passed no blow. Now we got to wait an extra 30 minutes. Time passed, so then the question comes up, who checks - I said, it was my squad, so I took the blasting pliers and headed down the electric wire. My heart was racing, I get almost to the first charge and find a break in the line. I repaired and trotted back. We hit it one more time -boom. I've never before had both manual and electric primers fail as the same time.
I tell you, "sneaking" up on the wire, my heart was pounding, mouth was dry, and I never wanted to do that again.

Response by SN Greg Wright made Sep 16 at 2016 11:02 AM

SN Greg Wright — Fri, 16 Sep 2016 11:02:29 -0400

By far, the closest I came to buying the farm during my time was when the Long Beach lost rudder control alongside and began drifting towards us, with the Big E on the other side during an UNREP. 10 nuclear reactors (8 on Big E, 2 on LB), tens of thousands of barrels of JP5, a few thousand tons of bombs and ammo...by the time we finally accomplished the e-breakaway, you could have jumped from my ship to the LB. Literally. I'll never forget the look on the faces of the guys over there. Everyone knew what would happen if we collided.

Response by SSG Drew Cook made Sep 16 at 2016 11:06 AM

SSG Drew Cook — Fri, 16 Sep 2016 11:06:28 -0400

When I was attached to EOD during the surge, we were called out to assess a possible IED located by a supply convoy. Long story short, the convoy decided not to stick around, gave us garbage grid coordinates, then actually discovered an UX EFP posted behind a guard rail about 50m from the grid that we had driven past at least twice before finding it.

Response by SGT Patrick Reno made Sep 16 at 2016 1:16 PM

SGT Patrick Reno — Fri, 16 Sep 2016 13:16:43 -0400

I have been out of the service for 30 years now. Had dinner with my best friend he was in town for some meetings. We were stationed together all 4 years we were in. This story came up at dinner last night.
Now I'm 6'2", but pretty slender. My friend is 6'7" and back then weighd about 230. He played Rugby for the Army team While we were stationed in Berlin. So one night we were going over to a married friends apartment for dinner, the elevator was really small. Bob had this funny look when we got in it. I jumped up and down a couple of times and he gets really pissy, so I had to jump one more time. Well the elevator stopped between floors. That is when I found out that my extremely large friend is clastriphobic. I spent 30 min. huddled in the corner while he described different ways that he was going to kill me. It's been 30 years and he just won't let it go.

Response by SFC Pete Kain made Sep 16 at 2016 1:21 PM

SFC Pete Kain — Fri, 16 Sep 2016 13:21:20 -0400

1976 in Korea, just after the ax murders happened, I thought it was game on. AGAIN. the North is nuts.
Second was during an alert at camp Gates in Germany, and the call was gas. Just a light drizzle was falling and we heard a light plane above us. The cold war sucked!

Response by SSgt Terry P. made Sep 16 at 2016 1:59 PM

SSgt Terry P. — Fri, 16 Sep 2016 13:59:51 -0400

ENS Private RallyPoint Member Probably the scariest moment for me was when i first saw this>>>>>
After that not many scary things. LOL

Response by SFC Private RallyPoint Member made Sep 16 at 2016 2:04 PM

SFC Private RallyPoint Member — Fri, 16 Sep 2016 14:04:22 -0400

almost getting my head blown off by a sniper in Afghanistan back in 2006

Response by SGT Alan Dike made Sep 16 at 2016 3:49 PM

SGT Alan Dike — Fri, 16 Sep 2016 15:49:15 -0400

Driving up to Camp Freedom? up in Baghdad. We're in the city, and we are following 1sg. We go down an alley that is very narrow, and Iraqi's are pointing and laughing at us.. totally a fish in a barrel moment. We finally make it to the camp, and 1sg drops this bomb.. got a little turned around out there so we just keep driving around until we found base...

Response by SSG Steven Mangus made Sep 16 at 2016 5:20 PM

SSG Steven Mangus — Fri, 16 Sep 2016 17:20:10 -0400

I was standing on the pilot side of a running aircraft with my feet approximately 1 foot from the skid gear. Both pilots were pulling on something on the center console when it came loose and the collective came up. The pilot shoved the collective to its full down stop and the skid gear was about an inch from my feet. This was a OH-58D and I am 73 inches tall..a little bit more and I would have had 5000 lbs on my feet.

Response by SN Private RallyPoint Member made Sep 16 at 2016 7:58 PM

SN Private RallyPoint Member — Fri, 16 Sep 2016 19:58:45 -0400

I was on the aft lookout on the Carl Vinson, and we had heard that North Korea had threatened missile strikes against our ships. I was doing the 0000 to 0400 and the sun was just showing when I saw what looked like a missile contrail. I told the operation specialist and the next thing I know there was half the bridge at my station, we watched it through the big eyes, (giant binoculars) until we figured out it was just a Japanese airliner. Everyone just kind of looked at each other and one of the officers said' well , I don't need any coffee after that' and everyone just relaxed and dispersed. later I was told well done. I was just a lowly E2 at the time.

Response by MAJ Raúl Rovira made Sep 17 at 2016 12:52 AM

MAJ Raúl Rovira — Sat, 17 Sep 2016 00:52:45 -0400

1. Taking my M1A1 underwater in Korea. Survived!
2. Jumping out of a plane in Rigger school but forgot how to land (2 years after airborne school). I was yelled at once I bounced off the ground.
3. Driving through Baghdad and a boy make a sign of cutting throat as we drive by. Bonus, we were lost for about 20 minutes.
4. Afghanistan, falling off a bridge at night accidentally. 6 months later still in Afghanistan became temporarily paralyzed waste down.
5. 27-month medical board. It sucked the entire time. I wore them out and they let me stay until I retired.
6. Working at the Embassy in Cairo, Egypt during the 2013 revolution. Great timing.

Response by SPC Kenneth Koerperich made Sep 17 at 2016 2:50 AM

SPC Kenneth Koerperich — Sat, 17 Sep 2016 02:50:23 -0400

Story Time:

End of 1989 @ Op Just Cause. 2nd week in, we had pulled an 18 hr day clearing Curundu Heights Towers of "criminals" and such. We where hidey holing in an abandoned school for the night. Most of us were laying down, when an M249 (danger close) went into full auto. Bullets & ricochets flying all around us. Once the "noise" stops, after the LT. jumped on the M249 & busted the belt. We lit up the night. Checked the wall right by where we all were sleeping. Over 100 rounds had hit less than 1 ft above every bodies head. Turned out 1 efftard had dropped the M249 and the bolt slammed home setting it on a "freefire" mission. Quick thinking saved everybody, as we sucked dirt. Only 1 person was grazed, & a few scrapes from flying concrete.

Pure luck nobody was seriously hurt. Efftard got handed a rubber ducky & got to be the Co's RTO w/ no weapon the rest of the deployment.

Second story.

Laying up in PCC(Panama Canal Commission) truck bays after a day of "shanty town" clearing. Set to clean/clear weapons. 1 shot rings out.

"MEDIC!!!!"

Everybody beats feet to the call. Find my friend & brother in arms Spc. Douglas Duff bleeding out from a point blank shot to his chest.

My friend didn't make it past the front gate on the way to the med unit.

RIP my brother!

Response by SFC Private RallyPoint Member made Sep 17 at 2016 4:45 AM

SFC Private RallyPoint Member — Sat, 17 Sep 2016 04:45:05 -0400

A buddy and I slept in two hours passed formation two days before a deployment while at our girlfriends homes who lived an hour away. Vomit inducing smoke session for the exact amount of time we were late. I'm talking neck drags down the length of the barracks hallway, 10 count PU's, Burpies, you name it, we had to do it. And to top it off, I had to wear a huge sign around my neck in front of the company stating next hard time wearing full battle rattle until 2300 hrs. Was even gonna have the last two days before the deployment off, but was given barracks restriction instead. My buddy had to stand at the CQ desk every hour for 15 minutes holding two huge rocks in his hands. It was ridiculous. And in case any of you think I'm BS'ing you, well, this was back in 2000 when I was a Combat Engineer. So I'm sure you understand.

Response by Capt Tom Brown made Sep 17 at 2016 9:05 AM

Capt Tom Brown — Sat, 17 Sep 2016 09:05:44 -0400

All my parachute jumps. I never did quite pick up the thrill of jumping out of airplanes. They were all 'night jumps'.

Response by CWO4 Tim Hecht made Sep 17 at 2016 7:52 PM

CWO4 Tim Hecht — Sat, 17 Sep 2016 19:52:18 -0400

I have two situations, both while stationed onboard the USS MIDWAY (CVA-41) from 1972 - 1974.

I was an E3 Airman, striking Aviation Ordnanceman and was a member of the Ship's "Guided Missile Division". Our job was to maintain the air launched guided weapons that were flown by the squadrons. This included Sidewinders, Shrike, Sparrow, Standard Arm Missiles; Walleye TV Guided Bombs and First Generation Laser Guided Bombs. We maintained them, assembled, tested, etc; took care of the magazines, and delivered them to the flight deck.

The first "scariest moment" was in late 1972 while steaming in the Tonkin Gulf. Around 2200 the General Quarters Alarm sounded; followed by "This is not a drill!" At the time my GQ Billet was in Missile Magazine A-708-M (M for magazine). The MIDWAY'S Main Deck is the 1st Deck; one up is the 01 Deck; 1 down, the 2nd Deck. The water line is between the 3rd and 4th deck; with the 3rd Deck being the Armored Deck. If you look at a drawing of the MIDWAY my magazine was in the front third of the ship (ALPHA) (not too far from the bow) and the 7th Deck in the drawings is also called the "Hold." To get to the magazine you climbed straight down ladders bolted to the bulkheads from the 2nd Deck, through the armored deck, down to the 7th deck, closing watertight scuttles (think a smaller round door in the hatch cover) over your head as you go. Arriving at the magazine you are now way below the waterline in a magazine full of guided missiles, next to another magazine full of bombs, and two magazines above you with missiles and bombs...isolated from the rest of the ship with a sound powered phone for communications and the ships PA System.

So in the magazine I hear: "Now hear this, this is the Captain Speaking..." The Captain then went to tell us that there was creditable intelligence that the North Vietnamese Air Force launched a squadron of Migs to try to sink a carrier; and we were the closest carrier to North Vietnam at the time...I was 20 years old, by myself surrounded by lots of high explosives and rocket motors; yep I was scared - scared "Sh!tless"! About 2 hours later we secured from General Quarters. The NVA Air Force actually did launch a squadron of Migs that night; the closest they got to us was 75-100 miles; two were shot down, the others turned around and beat feet it home.

I know, compared to the hell that many of you have experienced this seems trivial but to me it was scary.

The other scary incident was one that myself and another Aviation Ordnanceman and I almost blew up the USS MIDWAY - this is a no BS damn near happened.

We were testing the guidance and control functions of the Walleye TV Guided Bomb - the big ones - 2,000 pounds each and had three of them in the shop. Under the guidance of the Division Chief we were testing them with a video unit and test set. The manual said to use the manual when testing a weapon and to follow the step by step directions in the book. Special Warnings and Cautions in the manual were inside highlighted boxes in the manual. Since we were now one our third weapon we were seasoned pros at this testing...book?...don't need no stinking book.

First mistake - not reading the manual and following it step by step.

Second mistake - In the warning box in the manual is the warning: "turn the power off to the test set and unplug the test set from the power supply. Nope we didn't do that step; we knew what we were doing.

First and only correct action - ensuring that the weapon was properly grounded to the steel deck of the ship...yep that we did do.

Third and almost the most fatal mistake I've ever made in my life (but for the grace of God and a whole bunch of luck) taking the umbilical cord of the test set and trying to connect it to the weapon - resulting in a 3" long Blue Spark from the canon plug to the connector on the bomb...luck was on our side that day believe me.

Words of Wisdom provided by AOC Herb Terrill, USN, Retired and a good friend today, 44 years later, "Why don't you fuckers take a break while I go change my skivvies!"

Once the impact of what could have happened by our complacency set in I realized just how close to killing a whole bunch of my shipmates we came. That still is some scary stuff....Herb and I can talk about it today and chuckle a little bit about it but it still is a pretty sobering thought.

Response by SCPO Private RallyPoint Member made Sep 18 at 2016 9:21 AM

SCPO Private RallyPoint Member — Sun, 18 Sep 2016 09:21:59 -0400

Typhoon Rose, in the Tonkin Gulf in 1971. The story would require far too much typing. Suffice to say, a few thousand lives hung in a very precarious balance, and I was at the apex of their very future existence. Yes, a dramatically true story that would involve too much typing on this medium.

Response by PFC Rs Seymour made Sep 20 at 2016 9:09 AM

PFC Rs Seymour — Tue, 20 Sep 2016 09:09:51 -0400

40 years ago the mule we were on lost its brakes. We wheeled into a ditch at around 40 miles per hour flipping the mule as it catapulted 5 of us off the vehicle going to Purple Beach at midnight in Puerto Rico.
We were all hurt not badly.

Response by PFC Rs Seymour made Sep 20 at 2016 9:10 AM

PFC Rs Seymour — Tue, 20 Sep 2016 09:10:00 -0400

Response by PO3 Brad Barnes made Sep 20 at 2016 9:16 AM

PO3 Brad Barnes — Tue, 20 Sep 2016 09:16:01 -0400

Being buzzed by Iraqi fighters in the Persian Gulf with indicated missile locks. Hot bird on the rail, and Phalanx armed and tracking. That was kinda scary. Standing in front of the "Old Man" and being dressed down for being too drungover to show for muster..... My life flashed before my eyes. :)

Response by SGT Aaron Atwood made Sep 20 at 2016 9:27 AM

SGT Aaron Atwood — Tue, 20 Sep 2016 09:27:52 -0400

I flipped off my Kill Hat (junior-ranking DI) in boot camp, and I also fell off a bridge driving to work back in April. Not too many things left for me to be afraid of between those two.

Response by CDR Jerry Womack made Sep 20 at 2016 9:37 AM

CDR Jerry Womack — Tue, 20 Sep 2016 09:37:53 -0400

Coming home and having to tell my wife "hey look, I've got to be gone for awhile" .....

Response by SPC Christian Valenti made Sep 20 at 2016 9:53 AM

SPC Christian Valenti — Tue, 20 Sep 2016 09:53:19 -0400

It wasn't getting shot at or random rockets/ mortars, it was running from the motorpool to the latrine. I was wearing a flight suit as coveralls, it was a typical day so I wore nothing underneath except boxer briefs & a brown T. The closer I got I started I started to unslung my rifle and unzip the flight suit, well the zipper got stuck. That fear, the fear of the Hershey squirts from those mialaria (spelling?) pills they made us take in combination with eating MRE's for the past several months...well fella's the zipper didn't come down in time, I didn't make it. I ended up throwing away those boxer briefs and my socks...

Response by SPC Robert Bobo made Sep 20 at 2016 10:12 AM

SPC Robert Bobo — Tue, 20 Sep 2016 10:12:05 -0400

While on a long range recon in Germany, I sunk chest deep in a thick mud bog with full pack and couldn't get out and the squad was ahead of me , finally after trying to get out for what seemed a lifetime, SSG wheeler came back an said move your as- bobo, I said I cant im fu----- stuck, they got me out I was covered in mud and of course we didn't go back to base for another two weeks

Response by SSG Ken Gilder made Sep 20 at 2016 10:14 AM

SSG Ken Gilder — Tue, 20 Sep 2016 10:14:16 -0400

I posted this once before. Can't remember where, but it's up here somewhere. Anyway, the five most frightening military moments, are:

1. When a private says "I learned this in Basic Training!"

2. When a buck sergeant says "Trust me, sir!"

3. When a 2nd lieutenant says "Based on my experience. . . ."

4. When a captain says "Ya know, I was just thinking."

5. When a grizzled old chief warrant 3 or 4, or a master warrant 5 grins at you, nudges you with his elbow, and says "Hey! Watch this shit!"

Response by SGT Art Kretzschmar made Sep 20 at 2016 10:38 AM

SGT Art Kretzschmar — Tue, 20 Sep 2016 10:38:02 -0400

1968 in RVN... word was the N Koreans had just seized the USS Pueblo... general FUBAR with sporadic firefights all around us well into the night. Speculation was if we went to war with the Koreans all DREOS would be suspended and we'd be in deep doo-doo. All of a sudden we see a perfect mushroom cloud light up the night sky. Dead silence ensued as everybody everywhere stopped firing for a good two minutes. We figured we were just nuked. No info from anyone in radio contact, so it was a very long night. Turned out to be a rocket hit on a fuel dump at Bien Hoa AFB some 10 miles away... almost pooped a pickle.

Response by CW4 Don Conlan made Sep 20 at 2016 10:44 AM

CW4 Don Conlan — Tue, 20 Sep 2016 10:44:11 -0400

1966, my first patrol, I'm 1 of 2 M-60 gunners heading to our ambush site.

The patrol consists of 16 troops detailed from various support units of the 1st ID out of DiAn.

We're now 60 minutes into the patrol and we've just come out of a transit of 8' high pucker brush that required me to carry the M60 at port-arms to push-beat my way thru the brush. I think we were lost and the Patrol Leader took a short cut to get back on track.... At this point, all I'm praying for is an ambush so that I can lessen my load by at least 200 rounds!

We're now crossing an open hillside and there's a slight breeze that's finally cooling me down. I'm walking to maximize the cooling effect with my right arm at a right angle to my shoulder and my left at a 45° at the elbow (I'm a left-hand shooter) to provide some air to that side of my body...so the M60 is going thru some large diagonal gyrations of it's own as I'm walking.

About 20 meters into this clearing, I hear a thump, look down at my feet and see a grenade, I immediately shout 'grenade', run as I count one...two..., and dive to the ground in a flying leap. To break my fall, I've repositioned the M60 to center-vertical with my right hand near the M60 about crotch-high and my left hand just about mouth-high to my body. As I'm going down, I notice that there's a grenade fuse dangling from one of my ammo packs on my LBE, so I now know that MY grenade is not going to explode and ķI guess) I somewhat relaxed for a perfect 3-point landing on my toes and the M60 butt...as my head approached ground contact, my left hand rapped me in my mouth and the M60 sight (fortunately) caught the lip of my steel pot with enough force to un-snap the chin strap and send the pot on a roll about 20' down the hillside.

A short time later, the patrol leader showed up....but that's another story.

Response by MSgt Don Dobbs made Sep 20 at 2016 11:09 AM

MSgt Don Dobbs — Tue, 20 Sep 2016 11:09:59 -0400

In 1985 Busy Brewer 85B we (the 42nd BMW) deployed several B-52G's to England then a follow on to Morocco. During our redeployment to England from Morocco the C-141 I was on aborted takeoff twice. It seems the airspeed indicator wasn't functioning on the pilots side. We had the spares kits for our B-52's on board so We gave the crew chief the part he needed to repair the aircraft. On the third attempt we were airborne and headed back to England. Not gonna happen. A piece of rolling stock (dash 86) on the aircraft began leaking fuel. The cabin quickly filled with fumes and became impossible to breath we donned the cabin oxygen masks and very quickly realized the masks allowed outside air in so the fumes were still chocking. Fortunately there were only three of us passengers so we were moved to the cockpit. We made an emergency landing in Rota Spain. Had there been a spark in the cargo area we would have exploded in flight. At least that's what the fire department said in Rota. We didn't return to Morocco simply because there was very little to no emergency equipment there (Sidi Slamine AB). Pucker factor 10.

Response by SSG Wayne Wood made Sep 20 at 2016 11:17 AM

SSG Wayne Wood — Tue, 20 Sep 2016 11:17:23 -0400

Gallant Eagle 82 was a no-kidder; I got pretty screwed up on that one and it eventually ended my career. But I really had no time to be scared. I think the scariest thing was in Germany in the mid-70s when we were having bomb scares all across EUSAREUR. I was my battery's Training NCO (as a PFC) and got sent to a class in searching for bombs and such so every time we got a bomb scare - always in the middle of the night I was rousted out of the sack and went out with a few guys I'd tried to teach what little I'd learned about opening doors without blowing myself up; we would have to go out with flashlights and check out our motor pool and designated areas to see if there was any sign of tampering. If we found anything we were to call it in and not do anything but there was always the chance of booby traps. Kind of hairy. We never found anything on our kaserne but every so often a bomb WOULD go off or they would find somethings somewhere else so you never knew...

Response by 1SG Brian Adams made Sep 20 at 2016 11:18 AM

1SG Brian Adams — Tue, 20 Sep 2016 11:18:59 -0400

The first 30 days of the Gulf War. We literally had to use picks to dig sand from the ground, it's not soft sand as we discovered. We had to fill sand bags and build up for protection. The unknown was the scariest.
It's funny, because when the actual fighting began, our unit was focused and ready because of all those back breaking Arteps....that's my story and sticking to it !

Response by LCpl Daniel Nilssen made Sep 20 at 2016 12:22 PM

LCpl Daniel Nilssen — Tue, 20 Sep 2016 12:22:06 -0400

Sgt Andrews at Paris island during receiving

Response by MSgt Raymond Hickey made Sep 20 at 2016 12:23 PM

MSgt Raymond Hickey — Tue, 20 Sep 2016 12:23:29 -0400

February 11 1970 at 0003 hrs, we had just been hit with sappers coming through the perimeter wire, the tower guard had opened fire and had a couple of KIA Charlie's between the triple concertina wire. Myself and another "new" guy were posted in the ditch running along the dirt road as a blocking force. After a while the other guy says that he sees movement in front of us...(oh, by he way, we were posted with no radio communications.). With no communications available, I decided to pop an illumination flare. When the flare went off...nothing! no movement, after the flare went out, my partner and myself, saw movement between the fence lines...we both had our M-16's over the road and ready to rock-n-roll when I decided pop another flare. Again, when the flare ignighted there was nothing...at about this time a Jeep came barreling at full speed, down the road, lights off and skidded to a stop where we were, someone jumped out of the jeep and asked "what do you see"...I yelled to the guy and told him to get down, at we were seeing movement on the fenceline . It was then that I realized that the individual that had jumped from the Jeep was a Lt. he told us that the only thing between the fences was a K9 patrol....think of this...we were posted with no communications, and we were not briefed on friendlies in our sector, I had been in country 1 month, the guy with me, had less time then me in country. All we had were our M-16's and 3 slap flares each. We came close to blowing away a fellow SP, but because I wouldn't shoot or let my partner shoot we didn't. I had just turned 21 on the 10th. Yea, I was scared, but ultimately relieved that I had made the right call and pissed off that we were put in a that situation by the posting NCO. WELCOME TO VIETNAM...

Response by COL Francis Petrell made Sep 20 at 2016 12:24 PM

COL Francis Petrell — Tue, 20 Sep 2016 12:24:14 -0400

I was the duty officer at a joint US-Greek Ordnance Company near Athens. While making my evening check of the ammo bunkers I heard someone snoring behind a small hill off the road. Thinking that someone had snuck into the restricted area and fell asleep, I took the safety off my .45 pistol and began crawling up the hill towards the sound, sweat pouring down my face in anticipation of what I had to do next. As I pointed my pistol at the "perp" I saw that it was not a terrorist but rather a large turtle. Thankfully I did not discharge my pistol because every Greek guard in the guard towers would probably have started firing their M-1s in my direction.

Response by SGT Art Kretzschmar made Sep 20 at 2016 12:55 PM

SGT Art Kretzschmar — Tue, 20 Sep 2016 12:55:04 -0400

OK, this could have gotten the "Dumb Fuc% award if it turned out differently... we were cleaning weapons and I was working on a very tired old WWII era M2 carbine by popping rounds through it... one of my "buddies" was amusing himself by repeatedly dry firing his M16 at my head... I told him it really pissed me off but he just wouldn't stop... so after he established himself to be a major pain in the a$$, I went against my instincts and raised my weapon and took dead aim between his eyes from ten feet away, finger tight on trigger... I just couldn't bring myself to pull it, reminded myself I don't PLAY with guns... dropped the weapon and wracked the slide and out pops a live round... talked to him 45 years later and reminded him that I saved his life once... he didn't need the reminder...

Response by SSG Mike Simpson made Sep 20 at 2016 1:19 PM

SSG Mike Simpson — Tue, 20 Sep 2016 13:19:29 -0400

Doing a free-fall demonstration jump on a college campus as part of US Army ROTC recruiting seemed like a good idea. I was the only enlisted platform instructor at Eastern Kentucky University in Richmond, KY in 1977. The KY ANG parachute team would be jumping and these were the same guys I jumped with on weekends at our local skydiving drop zone. Col. White, the Professor of Military Science, approved my request to jump with the guys.

Monday morning we had a Huey out on the university auditorium parking lot for a series of jumps. I should have figured that this was going to be a bad day as the first jump ended up with a controlled crash after 2 steering lines came off the right side of my 5-cell StratoStar canopy.

Raul Parker, another of our local skydiving group, was in the crowd and offered me his Para-Commander for the next jump. He had packed it Sunday afternoon on the DZ and said it was good to go. I strapped it on and climbed into the chopper for jump #2.

We exited at 7,500 ft and all went well until we broke apart at 2,500 feet to pull. I pulled at about 1,900 ft but didn't feel the deployment bag come off my back. I dropped a shoulder thinking I had a pilotchute hesitation but nothing happened. Now I'm starting to get excited. Twelve previous malfunctions over an 7 year period trained me not to panic but rely on my training. I tucked my legs under me to sit up and the bag fell out of the main container and landed on my legs. When I kicked the bag, the pilotchute went between some loose suspension lines, took a turn, then inflated, pulling a locked bag out.

Now I'm falling feet-to-earth and the high chest mounted reserve is covering my canopy releases. I had to take my left hand to pull the reserve down; use my right hand to pull the cover down and stick my thumb through the release ring to cutaway the right riser set. Switching hands, I repeated the process to cut away the left riser set. Now I'm back in free-fall.

I had a real "Oh Shit" moment when I looked at the altimeter mounted on the top of the reserve and saw that I was passing through 400 ft! I pulled and suddenly time went to extreme slow motion. I watched the canopy deploy under my left arm; I could clearly see the traffic stopped at a red light on the 4 lane divided highway I was headed for; I thought of my fiancee in the crowd watching (we were to be married in May); and that I had really screwed the pooch on this one. There was no panic or fear; I just asked the Lord to help me.

The next thing I know I get three very violent jolts - 1) terminal reserve opening, 2) altimeter panel hitting me in my mouth, and 3) three point landing on that divided highway (left and right heels and my butt). I figured the reserve opened about 40 ft off the ground; just high enough to slow me down to about maybe 50 ft per second rate of descent before impact.

After getting my wind back, I got up and hobbled over to the median, gathering my reserve in my arms. After the traffic cleared, I hobbled across the road to the north side of the highway (side our DZ was on) and started heading that way. A guy in a pickup truck stopped and asked if I needed a ride. I told him what was going on and where he could take me. Then he asked where my plane crashed. He thought the double zipper black jumpsuit I was wearing was a flight suit.

When I got back with the rest of the jumpers, Maj Dick Stoops was the first to reach me. He had just completed the FAA's Rigger Training Course and the reserve I used was his first pack job. First words out of his mouth was "It Worked!" and then he asked "Why are you still alive?". I've thought about that question every day for the past 39 years as I wake up in back pain every day. Two major surgeries; my arresting on the table during the first surgery; and now the preparation for a possible third back surgery.

Response by CPT James Garigin made Sep 20 at 2016 2:12 PM

CPT James Garigin — Tue, 20 Sep 2016 14:12:41 -0400

Waking up at 0130 + or - varying times to the sound of enemy 122mm rockets landing everywhere not knowing if the next one would be in your back pocket or not or running from the latrine trying to fasten your clothes while the rockets were falling. Vietnam 9-20-1968 ~ 9-11-1969.

Response by CPT James Garigin made Sep 20 at 2016 2:24 PM

CPT James Garigin — Tue, 20 Sep 2016 14:24:08 -0400

Waking up at all hours of the night to the sound of 122mm enemy rockets exploding somewhere near to where I was. I am sure I am not the only one that had these same memories from Vietnam from 9-20-68 to 9-11-69. It is definitely a rude awakening .

Response by LCpl Private RallyPoint Member made Sep 20 at 2016 2:29 PM

LCpl Private RallyPoint Member — Tue, 20 Sep 2016 14:29:12 -0400

For me, 17 years old, never out of NJ, never on my own and everyone saying I wasn't going to make it. First 2 months Parris Island, every morning. It wasn't until the last few weeks of 3rd Phase I knew I was going to be a Marine that I was able to sleep and get up without fear or the unknown.

Response by SPC Andre Smith made Sep 20 at 2016 2:59 PM

SPC Andre Smith — Tue, 20 Sep 2016 14:59:44 -0400

The most scariest moments is laze-n-blaze 25mm sabots & HE down range and hot rounds coming back danger close (1/7 Inf vs. Medina and Republican Guard).

Response by MSG Private RallyPoint Member made Sep 20 at 2016 3:29 PM

MSG Private RallyPoint Member — Tue, 20 Sep 2016 15:29:55 -0400

This was a WTF incident. I was a munitions troop stationed at Kadena, Okinawa, 64-65. One of our jobs was to replenish the Ready Ammo Area at the end of the runway with 20mm ammo, parachute flares, 2.75 rockets, practice bombs and other various munitions. The practice bombs hold a black powder charge the size of three shotgun shells which, when detonated emitted a large flash and black smoke used to mark a hit at the bombing range. The job rmandated the two man rule. The dumb f**k working with me, was an AIC and the NCOIC. He hated being on the "Rock", and wanted to go home, so he detonated a practice bomb with a hammer. The explosion was seen by the tower and emergency vehicles were dispatched. They stayed about two hundred yards out from us for at least thirty minutes, in case secondary's cooked off. I was working the 20mm in a different part of the area when it went off , so I was not hurt. He almost lost a hand. After the inquiry, he was sectioned 8 and kicked out. I was transferred to a desk job in Munitions Control. The jerk could have killed us both, not to mention the extensive damage if the whole ammo area went up, plus the need for new underwear.

Response by CPT Tom Monahan made Sep 20 at 2016 4:03 PM

CPT Tom Monahan — Tue, 20 Sep 2016 16:03:53 -0400

As a Cold Warrior type, mine was during a live fire FTX. We were laying (surveying) in an 8 inch Battery one night when all of a sudden a C130 was above us. I'll never forget my RTO say, "Hey Sir, they have their tail ramp open. Oh no they don't..." That's when we realized that stuff was getting shoved out the ramp. We had about twelve airdropped pallets 55 glen drums. Not being able to see the parachutes, we all dove under the guns and ammo carriers. By the grace of God, no one was injured and equipment was damaged. It was the oddest thing to see all these pallets mixed in with our gun line the next morning.

Response by LT Bob McFarland DC USNR (Ret'd) made Sep 20 at 2016 4:12 PM

LT Bob McFarland DC USNR (Ret'd) — Tue, 20 Sep 2016 16:12:28 -0400

B.J. Mc Farland LT DC USNR Ret.
I think my scariest moment as an enlisted man was in 1955, when our ship the USS Mauna Loa AE8, was to cross the equator and make all sailors aboard eligible for membership in the shellbacks organization. I had heard all kinds of stories about how brutal the initiation into the Shellbacks club was. I had heard that sometimes they just had you paddled severely by all the shipmates who were already shellbacks. Then again, I had heard that sometimes they throw you overboard so you would land on the equator. This was a scary thought because of all of the sharks that were known to be in the water in that area. Our Captain took the ship 600 miles south of the entrance to the Panama canal, where we were headed to on our way to Norfolk, Virginia and crossed the equator, just to make everyone on board eligible for shellback membership.

As it turned out, the paddling was the worst part of the initiation into the shellback club. Thank God.

Below is my shellback certificate given to me by King Neptune's Empire for crossing the equator and a couple pics showing the equator and what countries it crosses.

B. J. Mc Farland LT DC USNR Ret.d

Response by SSG Don Maggart made Sep 20 at 2016 5:19 PM

SSG Don Maggart — Tue, 20 Sep 2016 17:19:01 -0400

Having Some one else pull down my pants so as I could take my First Combat Shit Prone "Tis the Reason for the Season" laffs... and then they Wiped Me Plate Carrier Full Battle Rattle Extra 203 Rounds A full Large Alice Pack with a Carrier....no way no how in contact... weird shit happens ...laffs

Response by SCPO Frank Carson made Sep 20 at 2016 5:39 PM

SCPO Frank Carson — Tue, 20 Sep 2016 17:39:59 -0400

Dilbert Dunker, and Operation Tomodachi, when the Nuke guys showed up with dosimeters and said put these on...

Response by SCPO Frank Carson made Sep 20 at 2016 5:43 PM

SCPO Frank Carson — Tue, 20 Sep 2016 17:43:33 -0400

Missing movement with an Ensign in tow. Well Sailor we can't punish you, because we would have to punish the Ensign and he has only been in two weeks. So we are letting you off with a warning....

Response by SPC Byron Skinner made Sep 20 at 2016 6:36 PM

SPC Byron Skinner — Tue, 20 Sep 2016 18:36:04 -0400

Sp4 Byron Skinner…Scariest moment in the Military. Being in a fire fight face ti face at about 10 meters is always unsettling. We were fighting for awhile in some of these "routine" encounters so close that most of us had bloody uniforms, the enemies. Contrary to what is said about the knock down of the 5.56 round, hit someone in the gut and the blood just explodes out of him…But that wasn't the scariest moment. Night Ambush late September 1966 near where our base camp was being built. We could hear Mr. Charles there were only four of us so we were not going to open fire but he knew where we were at, but not exactly so Mr Charles (NVA from the newly sent south Doc Tong Regiment that served in the same area against the French in the early 1950's) reconned the area by sending elephants through. When you are in the prone position, in the jungle its pitch black dark and an elephant steps only inches form your head and there is nothing you can do, I will admit it gets a bit scary…A note on this: I see my platoon leader form Nam at reunions and I mentioned the story years ago but yea OK shit happens and he half believed it and blew it off. Last month at the reunion in San Antonio one of the other guys came that was on that ambush and related the same incident the Lt. the exact same story. He apologized for not believing me.

Response by SPC Jeffrey Frusha made Sep 20 at 2016 7:22 PM

SPC Jeffrey Frusha — Tue, 20 Sep 2016 19:22:36 -0400

Day I checked into HQ, 2/69AR, 197th Inf Bde, Ft. Benning, GA., my 1st duty assignment... Wandering in and out of S-4, and through the office building, looking for someone to check in with. From somewhere in his stacks, I hear:
"They're looking for you..."
Me? They don't even know I'm here, yet.
"You, or someone like you. PFC type. Can you drive a Jeep?" (as a SGT emerges from between and behind rows of shelving).
I can drive anything with 5 wheels, or 2 tracks...
"5 wheels?"
4 on the ground and one to steer with.
"You're the one. Follow me..."

Almost instantly surrounded by Senior BN Staff. CSM, LTC on down... Rapid-fire Q & A session, only had to correct myself one time, when I accidentally called the CSM 'Sir' and the MAJ 'Sergeant Major.'

Became BN S-3 Driver/Com Operator. Led to teaching Senior Officers to call in Air Support, during training for the Division '84 changes, with the addition of the S-3 'Air' position (Air-Support Officer).

While my S-3 (MAJ Owens) was out on leave, and unbeknownst to me promoted to BN XO), I had a chance to become Driver for the BN XO tank. MAJ Owens comes back, and to the motor-pool and asks me wth I'm doing working on 'his' tank. Sir, I've been switched to Driver for the BN XO. He tells me he's the new BN XO and says "I just can't get rid of you for shit, can I?" (Note, this is the man that said he'd dance at my wedding if I could make him more coffee, while at NTC on the TOC radio watch, and we'd worked together for a year, already).

Response by SPC Tim Cook made Sep 20 at 2016 9:00 PM

SPC Tim Cook — Tue, 20 Sep 2016 21:00:53 -0400

Tanker basic training summer of 1985. TWA Flight 847 was hijacked, and the scumbag terrorists shot a Navy man and dumped his body on the tarmac. Our Senior DS pulled us all into the day room and held up the newspaper with the full page photo of that, and yelled, "Are you ready to go to WAAAARRR Maggots?!" All of the brainwashed goobers started cheering! This 17 year old National Guardsman (who still had to go back for his Senior year of high school) was sitting thinking what the fuck is wrong with you assholes?!

Response by ENS Private RallyPoint Member made Sep 20 at 2016 11:09 PM

ENS Private RallyPoint Member — Tue, 20 Sep 2016 23:09:01 -0400

Though, my life has been full of "scary" moments - moments where the "oh shit" factor was fully pegged out, my military career has been quite uneventful. I will say that one of the "scariest" moments for me was being told that because the Chief was out, I'd be briefing the O6. As a fresh E4 that was nerve racking. Today, that has become one of my primary jobs and I am unfazed. You quickly forget just how intimidating high ranking Officers are to new service members. I survived. ;)

Response by SSG Edward Geer made Sep 21 at 2016 12:48 AM

SSG Edward Geer — Wed, 21 Sep 2016 00:48:15 -0400

For me it occurred in the summer of 1978. I was assigned to the Tow Plt. CSC 1 Bn 50 Inf, 2AD (Forward) and we were stationed at Hohenfels, W. Germany. Sometime around 0 dark Thirty, the CQ or the CQ runner flipped on our barracks (open bay) light and starts Yelling ALERT been called!!! Everyone outside for formation.

At the formation the 1Sgt conducted a rollcall. Once that was done the CO informed us that the Bn's been put on alert and told us to to grab our gear, weapons, etc and head immediately to the Motor Pool. Furthermore our departure from the Motor Pool to our ASP (Ammo Supply Point) was in 30 minutes.

When we arrived at the ASP, we were instructed to enter through the front gate, pick up our assigned combat load and then drive out through a hole cut in the backside of the ASP. From here we went to our initial assemble area.

At the Assemble area, we got told to break out the ammo from their creates, load the tow missiles into their racks, start loading our magazines, storage the 50 cal ammo cans. With one 50 cal can in the tray for the 50 cal machinegun. After this was done, our Plt Ldr and Sgt informed the Plt that we're heading to our assigned first battle positions and to break the seals for our battle map cases. AS all this was going on, one of the guys in the next track decided this was for real and decided to smoke some hash. Just as our Plt. Ldr. walked up to that track. He stopped and said, Soldier I hope that is not what I think your smoking. I'm going to turn my back for 2 minutes and I better not see it anymore. The guy immediate got rid of it. The Lt. turned around and said Good, I thought I was just seeing things and walked away.

I don't remember how long we waited to move out but we finally did. Our plt was assigned to lead the Bn movement. Our direction was East towards the border. After a while we began seeing the signs stating Warning Border 5KM, Border 4KM, etc. When the word came over the radio to stop, our lead track was less then 100m from the 1KM Marker.

Response by SrA A.A. Hall made Sep 21 at 2016 1:11 AM

SrA A.A. Hall — Wed, 21 Sep 2016 01:11:25 -0400

I always kept my gearbag squared away after each TDY. Was called up @ 0300 boarded a C 130 w/ 50 others. Sat for 30 minutes, rumors were spreading that it was just a drill, so I wasn't too worried ( never did anyways). Then the First Sgt. showed up in full gear some of the guys started mumbling about how tired they were & when would the exercise be over? The Sgt just smiled & said " Jump up & buckle up shove em to the door we're gonna jump on the count of four. You could hear bout half of the guys start to cry, because their gearbags were full of junk, dirty laundry, & such. All I could think of was how long could I keep my well equipped bag undercover.

Response by 1SG Patrick Sims made Sep 21 at 2016 1:33 AM

1SG Patrick Sims — Wed, 21 Sep 2016 01:33:14 -0400

My last twenty-four hours in Vietnam.,after 915 days. I had seen a lot, and thought I was tough. That last day was the longest in ny life. I didn't feel relieved until the airplane captain came over the intercom and said we were out of Vietnamese air space.

Response by MSgt Walter Thomason made Sep 21 at 2016 5:04 AM

MSgt Walter Thomason — Wed, 21 Sep 2016 05:04:10 -0400

I was attached to the 2nd Combat Communications Group, 21st Combat Communications Squadron. We had been tasked with a deployment in support of a Fighter Wing out of McChord AFB in Tacoma, WA. We were doing equipment checkout when a fault popped up at the last second. We ordered the part from supply but it wasn't on base and it would take 24-48 hours to get. We were to leave in less than 24 hours. Being in charge of the deployment, I made the command decision to cannibalize the part off of my sister squadrons wartime ready asset. I was courteous about it. I left them a nice note letting them know the part was on order and they could have it when it came in (I think I forgot to say thanks though). We had a good deployment, I even almost managed to start a fight with the Canadians (wimps in the AF wouldn't stand with me!) When we got back, I went straight to Major J's office, reported to him a saluted smartly and said, "Sir, I figured you'd want to see me when we returned!" "Why would I want to see you Sgt. Thomason." "Sir, prior to the deployment, our equipment developed a problem so, I borrowed the part from the 22nd's equipment!" At this point his face changed, I could see he was about to bust a gut but I didn't know if it was because showing remarkable restraint from blowing his top or what. Finally, he said, "Sgt Thomason, I don't know a thing about what you are talking about, now get out of my office." As I saluted and was about to do my about face, I saw the smirk come on his face.

Funny thing was that I was more afraid of a reprimand for missing a movement and having it assigned to our sister squadron because of equipment problems than going to Leavenworth for cannibalizing a wartime ready asset. How I miss those days!

Response by MSgt John McGowan made Sep 21 at 2016 9:02 AM

MSgt John McGowan — Wed, 21 Sep 2016 09:02:11 -0400

PO2. On the more serious side I was at Westover AFB at the time the forces faced one another at the Berlin wall. There were 45 B52's loaded with air crews setting in aircraft at times. Once while in the Christmas tree the alarm went off and I had to stay until their practice was over. Not a fun time.

Response by Capt Private RallyPoint Member made Sep 21 at 2016 9:17 AM

Capt Private RallyPoint Member — Wed, 21 Sep 2016 09:17:10 -0400

The Cuban missile crisis.

Response by SSgt Michael Cox made Sep 21 at 2016 11:14 AM

SSgt Michael Cox — Wed, 21 Sep 2016 11:14:59 -0400

Scariest moment for me was during my second tour in Iraq. August 2003 at Joint Base Balad. I was in the porta crapper when a mortar buzzed the me. As the whistling sound became louder I thought it was going to land in my lap. Luckily it hit 100 ft. away. Later I was told by a solider that if I here the buzzing usually it means it will miss you but at the time I thought I was going to die on the crapper.

Response by CPL Robert Ray made Sep 21 at 2016 11:17 PM

CPL Robert Ray — Wed, 21 Sep 2016 23:17:25 -0400

I've had my share of scary moments, but there is one that... Well, I don't think I'd call it scary, but in retrospect, I find it humorous.

I'd been out for more than ten years when it happened. I'd moved to Tulsa, Oklahoma from a small town in SE Arkansas and decided to do my banking at a branch of a bank based in Lawton (Long story not relevant to this tale). I started my account in late August of 2001. I was told I would receive my debit card by mail from the main branch in a few weeks.

I didn't think much about it after that, especially with what was just around the pike. Like everyone else in the nation, time froze for me when the attacks came and as I'd just started a job in IT for a major wireless provider, we went into immediate overtime.

Imagine my dismay when I get home late one night to find a plain white envelope in my mailbox with a Fort Sill return address!! Suddenly, I recalled all the stories about those "little used, seldom heard of reserve activation clauses..."

The truth is that I was stunned for several minutes, followed by a brief period excitement (I actually enjoyed almost every minute of my time in service anyway). This was followed by a bit of anticipation, as I laid my mail out on my coffee table, cleared everything else to the side and placed the evvelope alone in front of me.

It was a rather thick envelope. I looked at it for several moments, breath bated as I considered its contents. Somewhere, way back in my mind, I knew this couldn't contain what my imagination demanded to be in there. But I ignored the doubt, savoring the moment. I thought, 'good, they aren't going to leave me out...' because like so many, I wanted to be in on the payback.

Eventually, my rational self prevailed. No DoD markings, no Department of the Army... Yeah, I knew it wasn't a recall to active service. I'd left too beat up as it was and skills that were 10 years out of date. Finally, I opened the envelope and found my shiny new debit card with a sheaf of papers that described the terms and conditions of possessing and using said debit card.

I called the bank the next day, not sure how to feel about the trick that had been pulled on me, however inadvertent it might have been. I found out, to my surprise, that their debit card printer was kept on post, although no one could explain that rationale. Likewise, no one at the bank thought to warn anyone about the card coming to new customers with a Ft. Sill return address. I suspect for some, this would have been more scary than the excitement/disappointment that I took it with. So I hope that it is worthy of your consideration.

Response by SFC Ralph E Kelley made Sep 22 at 2016 9:27 AM

SFC Ralph E Kelley — Thu, 22 Sep 2016 09:27:02 -0400

Warning Shots - In an un-named location in an un-named foreign country. We were easing through a forest, about ten meters between the three of us. We weren't being real sneaky but weren't exactly advertising ourselves either.
Suddenly there were three rapid CRACKs above each of our heads. Looking up (from the ground) there were 3 holes in the tree trunks. Each about 6 inches above where each of our heads had been.

Response by CPT Jim Schwebach made Sep 22 at 2016 10:16 AM

CPT Jim Schwebach — Thu, 22 Sep 2016 10:16:10 -0400

My team was in a hide under a fall of trees in June 1968 when the earth lit up. Simultaneous explosions all around us, danger close. Red light and being slammed on the ground for what seemed liken hour and a half. Turned out it was only a few minutes. Knocked out a couple of men and the rest of us couldn't hear or walk straight for an hour or two. After extraction we found out it was a TOT H&I fire mission. Apparently no one told the rest off the Army we weren't really there.

Response by Cpl Justin Goolsby made Sep 22 at 2016 11:30 AM

Cpl Justin Goolsby — Thu, 22 Sep 2016 11:30:24 -0400

I remember during a squadron family day event, the SgtMaj came up behind me and noticed my sunburn (despite my heavy sunscreen usage) and asked if I need to be standing in front of his desk first thing Monday morning. I said no. He said... good. Make sure that's fixed before the end of the weekend. I was a little LCpl then, so it was terrifying having the SgtMaj standing over you.

Response by SGT David A. 'Cowboy' Groth made Sep 23 at 2016 5:50 AM

SGT David A. 'Cowboy' Groth — Fri, 23 Sep 2016 05:50:31 -0400

While in route to one of our training areas, had to hustle trough an area quicker then normal due to a funnel cloud coming down. Missed hitting the convoy behind me, because I radioed back to warn them.

Response by SPC Douglas Bolton made Sep 23 at 2016 2:53 PM

SPC Douglas Bolton — Fri, 23 Sep 2016 14:53:27 -0400

It was 1962. I had two months left. I was at FT. Bragg, and suddenly we heard a intercom blare out. "This is not a drill! Report to your company immediately!" I ran to the formation of my company, and there were many other companies on the parade field. A colonial came to the podium, and announced that we need to pack our full combat gear and go to the buses to be shipped to the airport.

It was the Bay of Pigs crisis! We were loaded onto the planes, and they taxied out to the runway. They idled there waiting for final departure orders. We were going to Cuba to fight a war. The plane revved its engines and I thought we were leaving. I could see the terrified looks in all the other soldier's eyes on the plane.

The plane started moving, but it was heading back to the terminal. The pilot came on and said the mission had been aborted. You are going back to base. President Kennedy canceled the operation.

That was a close call. I was only 19 years old, and thought I was going to be in harms way. I am one of the lucky who didn't get in harms way, and I admired those of you who were deployed and protected our country.

Response by TSgt James Carson made Sep 26 at 2016 2:32 PM

TSgt James Carson — Mon, 26 Sep 2016 14:32:59 -0400

Having to work with drunks and drug users. Nearly killed a few times. Fighting off drunks wasn't too good either.

Response by PO2 Sybil "TT" I. made Oct 6 at 2016 1:17 AM

PO2 Sybil "TT" I. — Thu, 06 Oct 2016 01:17:35 -0400

Reporting to my first command, right out of boot camp, and walking into a very large, packed galley of sailors in their dungarees, who just got off a West Pac, who immediately went silent, when I walked in my pearly dress white uniform. Longest lunch of my life...

Response by SGT Art Kretzschmar made Oct 6 at 2016 12:58 PM

SGT Art Kretzschmar — Thu, 06 Oct 2016 12:58:05 -0400

Tet Offensive 1968... enough said.

Response by Sarah White made Oct 6 at 2016 1:13 PM

Sarah White — Thu, 06 Oct 2016 13:13:51 -0400

12 October 2006. Mosul Iraq, FOB Diamondback

I stupidly went to the gym alone. I wanted to work out, eat and then go back to the office without the hours long conversation about work with my co-workers. I was on the treadmill when I heard the first boom. Like everyone else I continued. It was a boom, and it wasn't us, it was over.
But then there was another one. And another.....it is true when they say its like running in slow motion when you are running for your life. It was the loudest explosions I had ever heard, and they were constant. 17, 18, 19, 22, 26, and they kept coming.
About 60 people were trying to cram into 2 small bunkers. My toes of one foot was inside.
It was so loud it was hard to imagine they were not raining down on us, we could feel the ground moving, it was so loud you could not hear everyone's heavy breathing or the female contractors screaming.
Then it stopped.
20 minutes later there was an announcement for all medical personal to report to a TCN man-camp, it was across the parking lot from the gym. Then the announcement said to get back to your unit for accountability.
It was a collective attack, and they wiped out, flattened; a man-camp. It was empty at the time, every single resident was at work. But there were two casualties, soldiers who had been near by were impaled.
That was the scariest for me.

Response by SPC Douglas Bolton made Oct 13 at 2016 12:42 PM

SPC Douglas Bolton — Thu, 13 Oct 2016 12:42:28 -0400

It was 1962. I was at Ft. Bragg I only had two months to go before discharge. We were working in the Army Security office (ASA) when we hear a loud speaker shouting, "This is not a drill! Everyone report to your company formation out in front of the Headquarters, With full gear on." I ran to my barracks, loaded up my gear and ran to the formation.

A LTC came out and spoke to the whole battalion. "We are all being send to the 'Bay of Pigs.' Head to the buses behind you and board the planes." Talk about being scared. I was not even old enough to vote yet and I was heading into a possible war zone.

We were loaded on to the buses; driven to the plane and we boarded them. We sat there for a few minutes and then we began to taxi to the runway. I looked at the others soldiers and some were actually crying. Others were praying. Some were shaking.

I had the usual flash of my whole life as we taxied. I thought of my family. I thought of my friends.

The plane stopped, but its engines were still going strong.

The it revved up its engines even more and started to move. However, it did a turn around and headed back to the terminal. The pilot came on and said the mission has been aborted. President Kennedy has decided to wait. The roar of the engine was load, but the roar of the soldiers in the plane was much louder.

Response by PVT Mark Brown made Oct 13 at 2016 2:40 PM

PVT Mark Brown — Thu, 13 Oct 2016 14:40:51 -0400

Odd this is listed under Humor? There were several, just like with most other guys. But, my very frist real freak out was landing at the airfield at Inchon. As we got to ground level we were able to see full bunkers every 100 yards or so. Each bund had quad 40's and operators. My first thought was WFT I thought it was quite in Korea. Well during my 27 months in Korea, collecting Hazardous Duty and Hostile Fire pay was wonderful, extra $105 per month, which was pretty good in 1968. For some reason I was put on the permanent QRF team, which ws generally a big hassle, usually. On one occasion it was real (over the 27 months there were actually more real call outs). I talk before about the back end of our compound being the perfect example of how not to protect your compound. We were the last unit on the back end of the compound. There was on time, middle of the night a very cold night, when we could hear them (whoever they were) yelling to our twelve. There was some little gun fire exchanged but that was the end of it. THe MPs went out to the river the next morning and recovered a rubber boat that should not have been there. We were taking cover in harvested rice patties but the was had not quite frozen over yet. To make matters worse not only was I assigned the M60 but I had to drive my 2.5 tun truck with the team in the back. (That is why I got to keep my truck with me all the time.)

Response by Sgt Wayne Wood made Oct 13 at 2016 11:15 PM

Sgt Wayne Wood — Thu, 13 Oct 2016 23:15:05 -0400

keeping with the theme... my first malfunction... still have the reserve rip-cord

Response by MSgt Walter Thomason made Oct 21 at 2016 9:35 PM

MSgt Walter Thomason — Fri, 21 Oct 2016 21:35:48 -0400

My scariest moment was 9-11. I was working in a command and control function so, I won't go into detail as to why but suffice to say I saw a lot of pinging in areas I didn't think I'd ever see it.

Response by MSgt Walter Thomason made Oct 27 at 2016 7:02 PM

MSgt Walter Thomason — Thu, 27 Oct 2016 19:02:26 -0400

I almost had forgotten about the Carswell incident in 90 or 91.

I was in charge of the project to upgrade the TACAN to a VORTAC. Unfortunately, there was a delay because of problems with the VORTAC power supply, however, the base contracting office had already contracted to have the old TACAN building torn down on a certain date and every day delayed cost the Air Force $10,000. So we arranged to get a mobile TACAN from the 3rd Combat Communications Group. We got training on the differences between the mobile TACAN and our old one and the jury-rig setup in order to have a spare transmitter. Then, we were on our own. One day the primary transmitter went out and we switched to the backup. We called the 3rd herd and let them know about the transmitter and they told us to send it back and they'd send a replacement. So, I pulled out the tech order, went over the schematics and saw that I could safely remove the transmitter without interference to the operation to the rest of the system. So, I killed all the power to the bad transmitter by pulling fuses and a few circuit breakers and commenced to removed the wire connections. Then I saw a small blue arc and heard the antenna starting to spin down. That was when I learned there had been some modifications to the system but the tech orders hadn't been updated. My first thought was, "Oh my goodness, I just took out the only military navigation system in central Texas!" I knew a fuse must have blown so I looked up on the panel to see which one was lit and NONE OF THEM WERE! My mind went into another gear and it was funny because I could see the schematics in my mind and I was literally tracing out the lines in my head, I told the A1C that was with me, "It's this one!" Pulled the fuse (of course it was ceramic so I couldn't tell and didn't have time to pull a meter out and check it), Opened the spare kit found the fuse and slammed it in all before the antenna spun all the way down! Less than 2 minutes, no Operational Capability (OPSCAP) change! The Control Tower did call to find out why the alarm went off. Fear can make you do a lot of things. It gave me the temporary power of photographic memory. And saved me from explaining to at least, the DO why I took down a major nav asset.

Response by TSgt James Carson made Oct 27 at 2016 7:15 PM

TSgt James Carson — Thu, 27 Oct 2016 19:15:12 -0400

It was during the day Vietnam fell in April 1975. I was on U-Tapao Base when sirens went off and aircraft buzzed the base as they dropped munitions and fired their guns before being allowed to land. Vietnamese pilots were so scared and hardy followed directions. You weren't sure if some might be human bombs or not and planes like the F-5 carried up to three men in the cockpit. As KC-135 aircraft came in we had one poor sole fall out of the main landing gear dead and frozen. It was exiting and a mess for several days. At times there was weapons firing and you didn't know who was doing it or why. Glad I was there, and lucky to be here.

Response by SSG Ken Gilder made Nov 3 at 2016 7:14 PM

SSG Ken Gilder — Thu, 03 Nov 2016 19:14:57 -0400

I ran this up elsewhere, but, just to lighten things up, the five most scary Army moments are:

1. When a private says "I learned this in basic training!"

2. When a sergeant says "Trust me, Sir!"

3. When a 2nd Lieutenant says "Based on my experience . . ."

4. When a captain says "Ya know, I was just thinkin' . . ."

5. When a Chief Warrant 3 or 4, or a Master Warrant 5 nudges you with his elbow, grins at you, and says "Hey! Watch this shit!"

Response by 1SG Patrick Sims made Nov 18 at 2016 11:16 AM

1SG Patrick Sims — Fri, 18 Nov 2016 11:16:25 -0500

It was 1969, and my River Patrol Section was in the An Loc canal. The Mekong River swings north in that area and borders the Plain of Reeds---the An Loc canal runs through the south part of the Plain. We were two PBR's --35 feet of fiberglass.---and were patrolling the canal. We got a report of a major crossing in our area, a few minutes before they started to pore out of the elephant grass. We turned six-fifty calibers and two M-60 on them. Bullets were flying everywhere. Our boats were shot to pieces but remained afloat. I put more than 2000 rounds through my M-60 before they gave up and ran for it. The canal was about 100 feet wide, and there must have been a hundred bodies along its banks and in the water. I have no idea how big the unit was that we blocked, we just overwhelmed them with firepower. Because we were low on ammo, we fired up the boats and made for the Mekong River. When the sun came up I found I had burns on both my hands and the left side of my face. The bolt of my M-60 had welded itself to the barrel. In truth it was just another day.