Paragon Trail

We awoke at our normal time, 0330. It was a half hour before the rest of the company. Why? Because we were the Third Herd. 3rd Platoon, Bravo Three-Five. Baddest of them all. We made our bunks and got our gear ready for the march that we would be taking.

It was our final test, for the most part. We would have about a 23 mile march, in full gear, followed by Paragon Trail, the final assualt objective in Basic Training. We were pretty stoked for it.

After breakfast we got our gear, rifles, gas masks and got ready to go. All the Drill Sergeants were ready, and even the Company Commander had a ruck (military slang for backpack) that seemed full (I am sure it was full of newspapers - it looked too perfect) of gear.

We had all of our gear: rucksack with extra clothes, Chemical gear, shelter half, mess kit, and other crap, plus our load bearing equipment (LBE) which held our immediate combat gear (ammo, canteens, first aid kit, flashlight), and of course our uniforms and boots.

We started marching at about 0600, and soon after the sun came up, it began to get hot (it was still late September, in New Jersey). But after a few miles, we stopped and took a break. We all had to take our boots off and check for blisters. If we had some, we had to have the Drill Sergeants take a look at them and treat them. Otherwise we had to put powder on our feet and change our socks if they were too sweaty.

After the break, we trudged on, in classic company formation (all platoons in formation, marching in line). We were not allowed to talk; we just put one foot in front of the other. At first the Drill Sergeants were with their platoons, but after a while the were all over the company, as if surrounding it at the corners. I noticed this, and looked at my Battle Buddy, Bond (he and I enlisted together out of High School). I told him, quietly, of course, to take a look around. He agreed; it was a prime opportunity for them to "gas" us.

What I mean by gassing is that they would throw CS gas, which is a very, very effective riot agent. It is basically Mace on steroids. We had all been through the gas chamber, where we went in not to get to know what CS is like, but to give us confidence in our chemical protective equipment. Trust me, no one likes CS....

So, I noticed that the Drill Sergeants had moved to the outer perimeter of the company, and I knew that it was just a matter of time that they would be throwing CS grenades at us. So I put my hand on the cover of my protective (gas) mask, and waited.

And waited.

And we marched. Up and down hills, on tank trails, with talcolm powder for sand.

Eventually I gave up about the possibility of being gassed and continued marching, not thinking about anything but putting one foot in front of the other.

All of a sudden, it must have been about 4 miles after I thought about it, I heard in a loud voice, "GAS GAS GAS!!!!" I look and immediately see the white smoke that indicated that grenades had gone off. I immediately closed my eyes and held my breath, grabbing the flap of my protective mask, pulling it open. I grabbed my mask and put it over my face, grabbing the straps over my head and tightened them, then cleared it by forcefully blowing the air that I had held, then sucked in while holding the filter hole, and making sure that the mask was properly sealed and no outside air was coming in or there was a leak in my mask. There wasn't. The time a soldier has to perform this task is 8 seconds, and we had been drilled on in for about three weeks now, off and on. I was good at this, because I do not like throwing up and seeing my own snot in a continuous stream from my nose to the ground (trust me; it is NOT a pretty sight).

I finished with the hood of my mask and made sure I was good to go (the final step is to yell out, "GAS GAS GAS" and make the motion for a chemical attack. I did this, and off to my left I heard a hissing sound, getting louder.

I looked behind me and I saw Drill Sergeant Simpson running wearing what looked like a welder's glove (heavy, for holding hot steel). In his gloved hand was a CS grenade, smoking like there was no tomorrow. I looked over and Bond seemed to be having trouble getting his mask on. Drill Sergeant Simpson noticed this and stopped right in front of Bond, and shoved that grenade right in his face, the CS going right inside his mask.

Not a good thing.

Bond, still having trouble with his mask, but now breathing CS gas, panicked, and ran as fast as he could off the trail and into the area off the road. As he could not see anything, I am impressed that he didn't run into a tree or something. But Drill Sergeant Simpson was still running with the grenade, and finally he threw it into the middle of the company, letting the CS disperse within the area. He then went running after Bond to make sure that he didn't hurt himself.

I moved up out of the area that was getting gassed, and started laughing my ass off. Watching all the poor souls breathing in that CS. I swore to myself that I would not let that happen to me.

After a few minutes, I saw Bond come back over to the campany. I asked him if he was OK, and he said that he was, but I could tell that he was affected by the CS. He was still coughing, but I knew that he would be OK. The Drill Sergeants eventually restored order and the company began moving again, but this time we stayed in our masks. This made the marching harder, as breathing while wearing the masks is definitely more laborious.

After only a few minutes we were starting to slow, and the Drill Sergeants made sure we did not slow down too much by making us march faster. It was definitely starting to suck.

The heat and himidity was rising as the day continued, and finally we were given the All Clear signal, which allowed us to take our masks off. We took a break to take the masks off, and we were also ordered to take off our BattleDress Uniform tops. We would wear our t-shirts and have our rucks on. I and every other guy in the company was soaked with sweat. We drank water, checked our feet, and rested for a precious few minutes. After all too short a time, we were ordered to gear up and get ready to go.

Eventually, after about 23 miles, we stopped at what would be our bivouac site. We stopped and set up our shelter halves with our Battle Buddies, and set up the area. We were given our MRE's and we ate hungrily, most of us filling our canteens up more than once. We did some more training, then finally in the late afternoon we were given our evening meal: Chili Mac. Basically Chili Mac is macaroni noodles with spaghetti sauce and meat. It is not great (would be a hell of a lot better with Tobasco Sauce, but oh well), but it was a hot meal. We also knew what was coming...

After our meal, we were again gathered in a company formation and given a lecture about what was going to be happening on the Trail. It would be a simulated combat exercise, at night, and we would be conducting a patrol along various trails and reacting to the situations that we encountered.

Again, as I was listening to the Sergeant in charge of the Pragon Trail exercise, talking, I noticed that the Drill Sergeants had moved to the corner of the formation, and I knew another gas attack was coming. I put my hand on my mask carrier and slightly opened it, waiting for the grenades to start popping.

As usual, I was right. The sergeant in charge was talking, then all of a sudden threw a grenade right in the middle of the formation.

The thing about Chili Mac that no one says: it comes back up very effectively when one is exposed to CS gas... In other words, you throw it up.

All of it.

You do not stop throwing it up.

I had my mask halfway on before the grenades hit the ground. It was sealed and my hood was pulled over within 4 seconds.

Soon I heard the results of those who were less fast than me. Coughing, retching, and other nasty sounds filled the air. Again I thanked God for taking care of me that day. I looked over at Bond, and I could tell he was smiling like me. Apparently he was not going to let it happen to him twice...

After another few minutes the guys got cleaned up and we began the patrol. It was getting dark, and we were given tips about what to do in various situations (flares at night, immediate action drills, and other infantry type stuff). It took about two hours, and then entire company finally ended up in a trench, lined up shoulder to shoulder.

There was a bench along the bottom of the trench, and we were told to sit down. we sat, and I put my head back and rested as much as I could. After a few minutes a voice came over a loudspeaker and told us what was next. We would go over the trench line when instructed and low crawl the entire area. We could expect to her machine gun fire, and simulated artillery explosions. We would navigate the entire course and react everything that happened. When the voice finished, machine guns opened up, and it seemed that every single round was a trace, because the entire sky light up with tracer fire. It looked like it was going right over my nose, but in reality the towers were about 50 feet high.

After a few more minutes, we were told to go over the wall. Immediately we went over and began crawling through the course. Explosions shook the earth, and mud and water was flying everywhere. I hurried through, and made sure I kept my butt as low as possible. After several minutes, I looked around, and saw guys just getting up and running towards the end of the course. I continued crawling for a few more feet, then said to myself, "Screw this!" and got up and hauled ass towards the finish area.

After finishing we were seated under a huge awning area out of the rain and mist while the rest of the guys finished up. After everyone was done, the Senior Drill Instructor, Drill Sergeant Calhoun, said that he was proud of us, and that it was a privilege to be a drill sergeant to such a great group of recruits. I am sure that he says the same thing to every cycle of soldiers, but it looked like he meant it, and he looked like he truly enjoyed scaring the shit out of us on a daily basis. He was damn good at it.

We marched back to our bivouac area and got into our tents (2-man). I got out of my wet clothes and got into my sleeping bag, and got my clean clothes out for the next day. I went to sleep rather fast, even though it was raining like a cow pissing on a flat rock outside.

We awoke the next morning, and packed up and began marching back to the company area. I seem to remember that not long after we started marching, we were picked up by busses for the remainder of the trip.


It was over. The formalities aside, we had been tested in the eyes of our mentors, and passed.

We had become United States Soldiers.

I was so happy I slept on the ride back.