It was colder than hell at Fort Benning, Georgia that morning of February 4th. We were marching off to take the Ranger swimming test. The test was a do or die requirement, a major barrier that had to be overcome. Each candidate had to pass the five events of the swimming test to get into the Ranger school.
I had decided about a year earlier that I was going to be an army Ranger. It is a small, elitist club of military personnel and my ego was such that I had to become an army Ranger. If I could not compete on even terms with the best in the army I would give up my commission and become a civilian.
I spent about six months getting ready for the course and I had put in a lot of hours swimming to build my strength and endurance. I spent time doing laps in swimming pools and tried my hand at swimming in lakes and even a river. I knew there was a lot of emphasis on swimming and operating at night in swamps. But I had no idea that I would suffer as I did to make it through the test on the first day of school. And most of the suffering had nothing to do with the actual test.
As we marched along that morning with our 10.5 pound M-1 rifles, everyone was energized and ready to meet the challenge of Day One. It was extremely cold and there was a light breeze blowing and we were wearing just a fatigue uniform. I figured because of the season and the weather that the test would be at an indoor, heated swimming pool. I soon learned the awful truth. The test was going to be administered outside in a pool full of near freezing water.
I knew immediately that this was not going to be easy. I also knew the cadre was using this as a tactic to try and break the candidates down and cause then to give up and quit. I was told it was part of the process, but I was surprised that it would occur on the very first day of school.
Having advanced warning about this weeding out system, I had worked on myself and steeled myself for harassment and un-reasonable treatment and I had developed the attitude that I was not going to quit under any circumstances. Quitting was not in my vocabulary and not on my mind that day or any other day during the training. I would never throw in the towel. No, I had resolved that I was going to go on no matter what challenges and obstacles the instructors threw at me.
The first station of the test was a blindfolded leap off the high board in combat boots, fatigues toting a rifle. I remember hitting that water. “Oh my God this can’t be real” as the shock rippled through the body---it was like electricity. The muscles went numb and coming to the surface was a struggle.
The first time in was an absolute killer but worse yet was the fact that the test took almost all day to complete because there were five stations that two hundred candidates had to successfully pass through. In between the actual test, while a nice brisk wind was blowing, each candidate stood on the side of the pool in soaking wet clothes waiting his turn before re-entering the water.
The waiting was absolute torture. It was so bad that suddenly a lot of people simply decided they could not cope with the water and the temperature. They began to walk away in droves back to the barracks and back to their units beaten on the first day.
For us hangers-on, well, our knees were slamming together. Also I felt like I was shaking internally as well as outwardly. There was another strange physical reaction, which I must share. I, along with many others, suffered a major under carriage reduction event and many of us also lost sight of our other thing. The fact of the matter is that the entire undercarriage retracted and disappeared not to be seen for about eleven days. As the reader might suspect, the under carriage retraction phenomenon can be embarrassing and it can also be a sobering development. When you can’t find yourself for several days you do lose a good part of your self-esteem.
Going through some old photos I found the the one above which is a shot of me careening into the frozen Chattahoochee River at Ft Benning during the preliminary part of the Ranger Course. The rope is about 35 feet above the river and the river was frozen--so the instructors cut a hole inthe ice and the idea was to land in the hole. Great fun.
In retrospect that first day was a real killer. We lost about one hundred forty candidates. Suddenly our class was cut to sixty remaining hard core soldiers. We ultimately graduated forty-eight fully-trained Ranger personnel.
I got to know each of the graduates on a personal basis and came to trust each of them and to rely on them totally. They were well trained, honorable, dedicated and we were all very close to each other. To participate and complete the Ranger course with my fellow students was probably the best demonstration of male bonding and male team building that I have ever witnessed in my life. I do not know where any of these Rangers are today--but I do remember many names and if I met them tomorrow I imagine we would be friends. As students we helped each other, pulled together, covered for each other and grew together. We truly graduated as an elite military organization.
The Ranger training experiences gave me a lot of determination later in life--in both good and tough times. When I lose focus I can think back on those trials and tests and on some occasions it has helped me to regain my composure. A little fire and a few tests and passing through the trial of a very demanding military course of instruction can show the candidate his inner strength, his resolve and his capability to react under great stress and tension. Life is filled with challenges and being a Ranger candidate simply puts great emphasis on a concentrated series of tests and risk taking measures. And when added together, such an experience accelerates growth toward maturity, leadership and results in success more often then in failure.
