Distinctions

Wednesday 16 December 2009

Fieldcraft tip #3: When moving around a combat zone, always travel light. Except during winter in Afghanistan.

I remain humbled at the incredible number of lessons that I continue to learn and relearn as time and life passes. That’s a polite way of saying that I’m amazed at what a dumbass I can occasionally be. One important truism of life in a deployed environment is that it is critical to travel light, since whether you are an E-3 or an O-6, you will eventually be carrying whatever you decide to bring with you on your back. In general, it’s easier to suffer a little bit from the absence of something than it is to consistently carry too much stuff. This has been reinforced through my experiences time and again as I have traveled throughout the combat zone. One critical exception, however, applies when the equipment is necessary to keep you alive. That’s where I made my mistake.

I recently traveled to a forward operating base that is located at over 6,500 feet. I knew that the temperatures at night would hover around 10 degrees F and that I would be staying in a tent, but I figured that since I would be one of the three highest ranking officers on the FOB, the tent would be a “VIP” tent, and certainly heated. I had experienced nights at higher altitudes and colder temperatures in the recent past and been just fine. (Sidenote- if you ever hear an explanation of someone’s reasoning that is this long, it is a guaranteed admission of guilt.) Accordingly, I brought my lighter sleeping bag, a Snugpak Jungle Pack. It is compact, light, sturdy, and totally appropriate for, well… a jungle. Surviving through the night during an Afghan winter, not so much.

That, of course, was exactly the issue. The heater in the tent failed to work, and it seemed that the tent miraculously managed to actually lower the inside temperature below that of the ambient temperature outside. After nightfall, as I transitioned through the uncomfortable phase, passed through misery, and stumbled upon desperation, I finally admitted to myself that an intervention was necessary. I picked up my sleeping bag, which was easy with it being so light and all, and trudged down to an E-6 tent, which had more people, so I figured it would be warm enough to let me survive the night. Fortunately, the soldiers took pity on, or at least indifference to, the idiot officer with a sleeping bag that had mosquito netting sewn around the head end.

I obviously survived the night and am now left to ponder the fact that good rules are only good until they’re not. More importantly, I will now remember to contemplate the often subtle distinction between being savvy and being lazy when making a decision.