FEX II Recap

Craig and I stayed up super late Sunday night to finish writing our orders. I found the chapel in O'Bannon and it was peaceful so we wrote them there. I think I would like to go there more to escape.

We both got 2 hrs of sleep, got up at 0400ish, started Day 1 of FEX II. That's field exercise and we're doing platoon offensive and defensive ops and learning how to sustain misery for a week.

I was surprised and proud of myself for managing to put my pack on all by myself. While we were lining out someone said he weighed it and it was 105lbs.

We got helo'd out again. This time I was on a CH-46. I enjoyed it as usual but it was only 5ish mins long.

My squad was Support by Fire for the attacks. Really anti-climactic and we ended up buddy rushing anyway during the second attack.

That night when I was hiking with my ILBE to our bivouac site, I thought I was going to break my knees. I remember getting over fallen logs and feeling my knees go in places they were not designed to go. So grateful I didn't break.

I froze during SAW watch that night. And I was so nauseous. I had been sick since I woke up on Sunday. I almost puked on Craig during watch while he was sleeping. Unfortunately, I didn't.

Tuesday morning was cold. I thought about FEX III coming up in October and how miserable the nights would be. We had to help each other get our packs on to hike to our defense. I had been getting it on by myself but when all the other guys needed help getting it on, I got help too.

Craig and I were in a fighting hole together. Or rather, we were supposed to be in a fighting hole together - we were the left flank and got I think the most roots out of the entire defense. It took forever to cut through them but I was comforted by imagining that I was in fact digging Craig's grave. I was nauseous again, this time worse.

We destroyed 6th Plt when they tried to attack us. Literally walked into Craig and me. Felt good.

I had to go return water jugs to the CP that night and when I returned Craig had laid out an isomat over my fighting hole. I didn't realize how deep it had gotten and I fell in. He laughed at me.

Three of us traded SAW watch. After my first watch, I went to wake up my relief, who was sleeping maybe 5m away from me. But I was wearing NVGs and I could barely see anything and I missed him and got severely lost in our defense. I started panicking. It took me about 20 minutes to find my fighting hole and then my relief. When I was done, I went back to my hole and said, "I'm going to pretend the last 20 minutes of my life never happened."

Six of us had patrol from 0300-0500. I was made RTO (radio operator). The stupid big one too (PRC 119) with the stupid big long antenna. I was completely miserable. I could barely keep up with the point man and the patrol leader and the handset didn't clip in so I struggled with sticking it in between my shoulder strap and trying to hear what was being passed, which was typically broken and unreadable. I felt awful and the stupid antenna got caught in everything. The terrain was straight from Hell. There were plenty of times I thought I was going to fall and die and go straight to Mike Co, including a steep drop-off, and other times I was caught in branches and thorns and could barely move. By the time we made it to our LPOP I was dying and my patrol leader made me give the radio to Craig.

On our way back one of us found a lone Marine lying down and went up to him and said, "Who is this dumbass sleeping by himself in the woods?", bent down, and saw Captain's bars. Lol. My SPC.

When we made it back, it was reveille. I was basically sucking on snot at this point and trying to endure a major headache. Craig and my squad leader tried to make me go to medical but I didn't want to go. There's really nothing they could do. I so badly was freaking out about the hike we were about to do, though. 2.5ish miles from the LZ to R-15 with those ginormous ILBEs. I passed out for 20mins while we waited for word and then after line-out I got my pack on to go on the hike. I'm glad my SPC talked to me before about being sick. I'm glad he knew and he said I could go to medical if I wanted but I said I'd do the hike. I'm glad - I felt like he cared and at least he knows I'm trying even if I do suck at life. My platoon started to step, but since we're third squad, we're always in the back and we weren't even up with the platoon when they took off. We had to catch up with them which was already miserable when my squad mate comes up to me and says, "Hey Cap, since you're feeling better, how about you take this extra weapon." Someone was at a physical and we were responsible for his M203. I said, "You're kidding" and he put the strap around my head and took off. I wanted to kill myself but I was too busy thinking up all forms of all swear words I know in my head in response to the situation. You're pretty much one of the strongest guys in the squad and you couldn't hold onto it? I mean, dude, you had the energy to sprint up to the front of the formation since you were the road guard...I mean...COME ON.

I was already struggling on this hike, just trying to keep up with the back, when a bunch of guys were like, "Cap you got to get to the front." No I damn well don't have to. "Cap go to the front!" I'm barely managing my spot in the back, how the hell do you expect me to make it all the way up to the front, Einstein? "It'll be better in the front!" NO. IT. WON'T. I KNOW YOU PEOPLE ALL THINK THE FRONT IS THE BEST PLACE TO BE BUT IT ISN'T WHEN YOU'RE ALREADY AT THE BACK SINCE LET'S FACE IT THE SPC SETS THE PACE, NOT THE PEOPLE IN THE FRONT. No, one of the guys took my weapons and made me hold onto his arm as he dragged me up to the front. It was completely humiliating and I thought I was going to die. Way to be skylined in front of your platoon. Anyway, I got my rifle back and stayed in the front for most of the rest of the hike but maybe 3/4 mi away we hit a hill and I just couldn't keep it up. A bunch of guys passed me and it felt awful. I could barely breathe and I spazzed and wheezed for a second in an attempt to cough and it was really embarrassing. One of the giant guys behind me got on my case about falling back and said, "C'mon Cap. Keep up. I don't want to have to start running." I was really pissed. Thanks a lot for the encouragement, especially from a former grunt who could probably have easily helped me out. Then a bunch of guys started to help me by lifting my pack and helping push me along. It killed my back, I felt like I was being distorted. Then a bunch of the guys started peeling gear off me. I couldn't tell what was happening until I saw someone run off with my isomat. The isomat. Really? Anyway, it was utterly humiliating but I was grateful cos I'm sure the hike sucked for everyone. I was completely hating myself for sucking when I said, "I'm sorry" to one of the guys and he said, "What? Are you kidding me? We're family!" And I wanted to cry. I think I did. I know this guy struggles with the hikes probably more than most of the other guys and he was helping me. I was really grateful. But I was so embarrassed to be me.

We eventually made it to the end and I stayed with my platoon with my friend right by my side. When we finally dropped packs I wanted to hide behind it and cry. It was certainly big enough. A bunch of people dropped gear off by me and I felt a ton of shame. Shannon said, "How about we go to the head" and we went behind a shed away from everyone and I cried.

R-15 was awful. Hot hot day. Since it was live fire we were in flak with sapi's, FLCs, kevlar...I was feeling sicker and sicker and my body was not cooperating. I could barely keep up with everyone when we were just walking on-line. I could barely breathe during our first dry run (without ammunition). I was in the maneuver element this time and every time I got up to rush it took every ounce of energy I had and I barely survived. I was hyperventilating severely and I felt my body give up when we had to run up the hill off the range. The Plt Guide ran by me and I managed to say, "Kim, I can't breathe" and he took me to the corpsmen. My chest was tight, I was coughing non-stop, all phlegmy, and I couldn't calm my breathing. I managed to tell them about my breathing problems from the past year and they gave me albuterol from an inhaler. I then went back and did the next dry run and felt like death and the corpsman walked me off the range. I felt so embarrassed and guilty that I couldn't finish the training.

An hour after the last dry run my heart rate was still around 100. The corpsman said it was because my heart was trying to make up for my breathing. My pulse was still racing a few hours later too. Partially due to the albuterol, though. It took forever but I was eventually sent to Ray Hall. I took a few peak flow tests - I think this measures breathing volume. I'm supposed to average around 575 but I was blowing 200s and 300s. I got a nebulizer treatment. The doctor said she thinks we can rule out asthma and that instead of having an obstructive problem, I might have a restrictive problem. I got referrals to a pulmonologist (again) and to an ENT. There might be something wrong with my vocal chords.

I got a SIQ chit but I asked to go back to the field. She let me so I went back and was in the support by fire element for our night attack. I then talked to my SPC about my condition and he said he'll help me find time in the training schedule to get my appointments in. He said he found out I asked to come back even though I'm SIQ and he appreciated my "effort and intensity." I was really grateful and felt like slightly less of a turd.

I had to go back to Ray Hall the next morning for a follow-up. I was nervous about the 7 mi hike we still had that night. The doctor specifically asked me if I wanted her to make me light duty so I didn't have to hike and I said no that I would hike. I walked away from medical feeling like a total moron. And dreading this hike.

It turned out to not be that bad. We only had to hike with FLCs, assault packs, and weapons this time and the pace was good for me. People were holding conversations, but every time I wanted to laugh I felt really restricted from doing so. I still can't really hold a long conversation or laugh at all.