Chapter 10

As I was coming out of the head after my morning ritual, Cox was coming in and decided to shoulder check me as he passed. It didn’t go as he had planned, as he just sort of bounced off. I laughed as I continued on my way.

We hit the PT field and spent the morning getting beaten down. After we hit the Mess Hall, we went back to the barracks. It was then that we were all told to grab a compass and compass pouch to attach to our LBE out of the box on the Quarter Deck. We were all handed a section of the map and began going over how to read the topography, legend and distance key. DI Oyono and DI Faamate were walking around with several prepared maps asking us to identify what was on it.

The platoon then swapped out the maps we had for one that covered an area out past Edson Range. We were then marched out to a spot on the edge of the map.

Moving in a school circle around DI Faamate, he began to instruct us about shooting an azimuth. Then we were shown how to shoot a line of movement that would tax you the least amount possible.

Moving to the top of a hill, DI Faamate started to bring up recruits and have them shoot an azimuth to a building we could just barely see. Recruits were called up one at a time to shoot an azimuth and we were just out of range to hear what was said.

When it was my turn, I moved to the crest of the hill. Lining the notch on the lens with the sighting wire I looked down and had a reading of 31 degrees. I got it right and went back to the side to wait with the others who had got it right until everyone else was done. I figured by a straight line it was about 2 1/2 miles.

We moved out towards the building with recruits leading the way and everyone so often we would stop for a while to make corrections.

I got called up as we hit the top of the hill we were currently on. It seemed we had strayed off the line, and I was the third person to try and get us back online. This wasn’t something we had gone over, though 1st Sgt Gibbs had taught me. It was called “Back Sighting”.

This involved math, again, not my favorite thing but necessary. So, I shot an azimuth back to where we started. After calculating everything, I stated we needed to move about a hundred feet to the right, which would put us back online.

We were back on track and on the move. There were a couple more stops along the way, but we finally made it. Standing in front of an olive drab cinder block building, DI Faamate gave a little speech.

“So, this is the Gas Chamber House. On Wednesday, you’ll enter and feel the effects of Tear Gas. I’m going to enjoy the show that you’ll provide me with.”

We took an azimuth back towards where we started. I was called forward again about halfway to Back Sight again. The return, which we adjusted once we could see the barracks, took about twice as long as the first one. Once in the Squad Bay, we returned the compasses to the box we got them out of and then went to the Mess Hall.

Leaving the Mess Hall, we marched out to an open area near where the Gas Chamber building was. There was a HMMWV or HUMVEE (High Mobility Multipurpose Wheeled Vehicle) sitting there with two Corpsmen in it and a bunch of about 6 ft poles laying on the ground.

“So, you recruits are going to learn how to do a field expedient CASEVAC (Casualty Evacuation). First get into groups of five, then grab two poles.”

The four musketeers pretty much went into different groups, though Tallow was in mine. We were instructed to have two recruits remove their BDU blouses.

I had an idea of what was going on, so I voiced the two biggest guys, Simon Hencke (Hencke was about 6’1”, 180lbs.) and myself, would give up our blouses. We were then instructed to button them back up and slide the poles through the arms of the blouses. This created a “field expedient stretcher”.

DI Oyono came around and chose who the casualty was going to be. In our case, it would be Joseph Muas Nhia who wasn’t the biggest or the smallest. We were then all pointed down a dirt road and told how things were going to go.

“Down that road about three miles is clearing on the top of a hill. There will be smoke designating an LZ (landing zone). You have 1 hr, 15 minutes to reach that point. You must make it without injuring your casualty any further.”

We talked amongst ourselves to figure out our strategy and I had an idea that we ultimately decided on. Two guys would start out carrying the stretcher, then when they tired, they’d call for a replacement. Also, we would change one at a time so that we never stopped moving.

We were given the command to move out. We took a steady pace that would have the necessary speed to make it in time, but not overly tax us. I watched as we were going down the first hill. The idiot brigade was not only moving at a run, but they had a recruit on all four corners of the stretcher. I had a feeling that they were going to tire themselves out.

We settled into a rotation where we swapped out about every 15 minutes. About 45 minutes in, we passed the idiot brigade off to the side of the road. The four guys were hunched over breathing heavy, sucking in air.

As we crested the top of the next hill, we could see the colored smoke plumes rising up ahead in the distance - two red plumes and two green plumes. I formed a plan, and the guys thought it was a great idea.

Tallow and I would wait until after the next hill and take over, picking up the pace and finishing in time. As the guys slogged up their last hill, Tallow took up the front position and I had the rear. Tallow took up a very brisk pace and I kept up.

We ended up being the second group to make it to the landing zone. Becker and his group were the first ones to make it. We were 15 minutes early.

SDI Brooks was there, being the positive one to even out the other three DIs yelling at everyone along the way. It’s motivation by degrading. There had to be an easier way to train Marines. Hell, what did I know, they’d been at it for 220 years and been extremely successful at it.

Like I figured, the idiot brigade blew their wad way too early. They were the last group and barely made it under the wire. DI Faamate and Oyono were behind them yelling the whole time. When I looked, I didn’t see Di Pugh anywhere near them. Guess his favored recruits weren’t looking good, so he bailed on them.

We deconstructed the stretchers and got dressed. As we neared the barracks, we were diverted over to the sandpit at Edson Range. There was no reason why we were getting slain. We stayed in the pit until it was time to go over to the Mess Hall for dinner.

After chow, we spent the evening reviewing the gas mask procedures and maneuvering under fire out front of the barracks.

There was no mail call for me during free time. I decided if I didn’t hear anything from Grandfather, I’d start things off. He needed to prepare Grandmother for Kiku being there. I was already going at it with Mom and didn’t need to be having a war with Grandmother as well.

After PT and chow in the morning, we grabbed our rifles and went out to what looked like another range, high berms on the back and sides. Though this one had some sort of course set up on it.

We were informed that this was called the Infiltration Course. It looked like you would be on your stomach and face for the whole course.

There was a curtain of barbed wire over the whole thing except for a couple of instances where there was a metal culvert pipe and a larger concrete sewer pipe connecting some of the course sections. There was another break in the course that connected with something that was covered in cut telephone poles.

We took a walk along the course, and it looked as if it was going to be a ball buster. The one thing I couldn’t figure out became clearer. The section covered with logs was what appeared to be a 4 ft hole. It looked to be a steep drop on the entrance to the hole and a slope on the way out. That was going to be a bitch.

We spent time going throughout the course twice. Like I thought, the course was a bitch, and you had to stay glued to the ground the whole time. The barbed wire curtain was only about a foot and a half off the ground. There were a few guys who didn’t heed the warnings and ended up with shredded BDU blouses. It looked like they’d be buying new uniform items.

Something was off, and I had a strange feeling about what was going to happen.

We arrived at the Mess Hall looking like a bunch of homeless guys just before they broke down to prep for dinner service.

Afterwards, we made our way back to the barracks. We spent the afternoon cleaning our rifles. They were pretty gunked up from the Infiltration Course. When we finished, made a trip back to the Supply building where we got issued an M40 gas mask with pouch, and an entrenching tool with a seperate pouch.

We made it back to the barracks and were shown how to add our new items to our web belt. It was awkward walking with both on the belt.

We had a short period of instruction on donning and clearing the gas mask. It was just a demonstration. We were going to get detailed instructions tomorrow. We had a decent dinner and free time was fairly sedate.

We got up and started our day as normal. PT, chow and then even more PT. We made it to lunch. I was just hoping to not lose all of it after the Gas Chamber.

After lunch, retrieved our gas masks and marched out to the Gas Chamber. I hadn’t noticed the other building when we were here the first time. We were ushered inside; it had rows of wooden benches inside, and once we were seated, the instruction began.

“Once you recruits realize there’s a chemical threat, your first job is to get your mask out. Next, you want to close your eyes and hold your breath. You’re going to then press the mask firmly against your face. This will cause a seal to form between your face and the mask.”

The Sergeant gave the lecture, while two Corporals were demonstrating. Sort of like watching the stewardesses on a flight doing the safety brief.

“With your free hand, pull the straps over your head and tighten the straps. You want to maintain the seal you created by pushing the mask into your face.”

As the two Corporals walked around, they repeated the actions so everyone could see.

“Once you have the straps tightened, place a hand over the vent at the front of the mask. You will blow out, then move both hands to the canister and the unused canister attachment point breathing in. This will make sure that your mask is properly sealed.”

There was a break as the Corporals made their way around to the front.

“So, this is how things will go. You recruits will file into the Gas Chamber building. You’ll stand against the wall. Once everyone is inside, everything will begin. When you hear “GAS, GAS”, you will don and clear your gas mask. Now on your feet and get moving.”

“AYE SIR!!”

Starting at the front benches they were cleared, and the recruits filed out. The inside of the Gas Chamber looked like the outside - olive drab cinder block walls, with nothing on the inside but a table in the center of the room.

I noticed there was a camping stove with an ammo can on it. The fire was on, so I guess it was heating up the ammo can. As we stood there a Staff Sergeant came in already wearing a gas mask and the Sergeant instructing told us to start reciting the Rifleman’s Creed, then donned his gas mask. The Staff Sergeant then began opening capsules, dumping the contents into the ammo can. Smoke started wafting out of the ammo can.

We had gotten halfway through the Rifleman’s Creed when it hit me. My eyes started watering when I heard the words.

“GAS, GAS, GAS!”

As I yanked the gas mask carrier over my head, my nose and throat were starting to burn, and my eyes were watering and blurry. All before I shut my eyes and mouth.

I got my mask on, cinched up and cleared. I was having a bit of a problem breathing and my nose was running a bit. I could hear a bunch of muffled coughing and sniffling. Looking around, I could see everyone was hurting and uncomfortable. My head felt like it was going to explode.

After a minute we were directed out of the building. As I exited the building, gas mask came off. The air on my face felt so good, as did that fresh sweet clean air filling my lungs.

“Put your arms out to the side. Don’t touch your nasty faces. Line up over to the side so the next platoon can file in.”

We were standing in a single file line with our arms out, gas mask in our right hand. We were all in pain. DI Faamate started yelling at a recruit behind me.

“I told you nasty bastards not to touch your faces. Head over to those barrels and rinse out your masks. When you’re done, put the pouches into the box over there and the masks in the barrel next to the walkway.”

I walked over to the filled barrel and began rinsing out the mask. My face, nose, and throat felt like they were still on fire. My vision was still somewhat blurry, but I still looked around.

What Stosh had told me was true but I hadn’t believed him. It hadn’t affected me as much as others. I wiped the snot running out of my nose every 20 secs or so. There were a couple guys who had snot hanging down almost to the ground. It was fucking gross. The masks were finally taken care of and DI Faamate then instructed us on how to take care of ourselves.

We took our canteen out and began to clean out our eyes. The process was to flush them out, one eye at a time, going from the inside corner, letting the water clean away the residue. I tried to be slick, though it didn’t work out as I had planned. I tried to pour in water on the bridge of my nose to let it run down both sides at the same time, but it wasn’t working.

Then I did it the way we had been told, one eye at a time. It worked a lot better this time. My eyes felt a whole lot better; my nose was still leaking a bit though. There were still guys with snot hanging from their noses. We got formed up and began the trek back to the barracks.