We tend to become story tellers as we get older:

I am no exception. I wanted to pass on a story from my days as a US Army Ranger. I was a young E-4
at the time: lean, mean and full of fighting spirit. The longer I look in the mirror, the more I miss those days…

It was Winter time in Bosnia, 1995, as I recall. Somewhere in and around Kosovo, my Sergeant and I we were dropped off near a winding dirt road. The sun was setting behind the hills as we looked at the map. We were tasked to setup an LP/OP (Listening Post/Observation Post) overlooking a valley several kilometers away.

We started our journey by skirting the road just inside the trees. Checking for tell-tale rattles and excess shine from our gear, we
stealthfully dodged low limbs and icy rocks as we picked our way through the winter brush. It was cold, but a spirited patrol in the dead of winter warms the soul as well as the body. Before long, we had stopped to remove a layer of insulation that had been essential to our comfort during our earlier ride.

We marched on, keeping speech to a minimum and using hand signals to warn of possible danger. Patrols of various types had been spotted throughout the region, and one never knew who they might run into. We stopped several times to look and listen. Fortunately, as we approached our destination, we had not been spotted. As far as we knew, the locals were not aware of our presence and we wanted to keep it that way.

We setup “camp” on a hillside overlooking the valley. Well camouflaged
in a stand of trees, we grabbed a quick bite of stripped down MRE’s as
we began night operations. Night operations consisted of watching,
listening and reporting any activity in the valley below. Higher
headquarters believed that activity in this area would indicate a major
operation. We worked in 4 hour shifts, 1 Ranger asleep and 1 Ranger
pulling duty.

I pulled the first watch as my Sergeant slept. I leaned up against a
tall tree and did my best to stay warm with my Gortex jacket and poncho.
Fighting off the urge to doze, the temperature dropped into single
digits. Every hour on the hour I would radio the TOC, “Ghost 3:
Negative Sit-Rep, Over.”. At midnight, I woke my sergeant and he
relived me. Before I knew it, 0400 had arrived and it was my turn all
over again.

With my Sergeant sound asleep, I propped myself up again, had a bite of
a frozen candy bar and turned on the NOD’s (Night Vision Goggles). As I
scanned the valley below, I slowly worked my way up the hill and to our
rear; our surroundings revealed in a sea of green and black. Without
warning, a group of three soldiers appeared on the slope above us! They
had turned on a flashlight and were reading what looked like a map. It
appeared as if they were attempting to circle our location from above.

Keeping one gloved hand on the NOD’s and placing the other on my M16A2,
I silently flicked off the safety and vowed to let these guys pass.
After all, our mission is to observe, not fight. The three man group
proceeded to walk another twenty five meters and began to arc down the
hillside parallel to our position. As they passed with ten meters of
our camp, I thought to wake my Sergeant but decided that any movement may
give away our location. So I kept my sights on them as they weaved a
path below us towards the valley.

I was finally able to breathe as the three man patrol reached the valley
floor. As I re-engaged my safety, something happened that I will never
forget. My Sergeant began snoring! The three man patrol immediately
stopped and began working their way uphill toward our location. $#IT!
Before I could poke the Sergeant or otherwise wake him, three AK-47’s
were brought to bear as the patrol got closer.

Then, I reacted. Shouldering my weapon, I flicked the safety to burst
and began to unload! The patrol stood their ground and returned fire.
Then, within seconds of the fire-fight starting, one of the strangest
things happened. My Sergeant sat straight up from a dead sleep and
fired a rocket launcher at these guys! The noise and the blast from the
AT4 launcher was ferocious! All I could do was stare at this guy and
wonder “was he sleeping with this thing”?

The rocket exploded across the valley, clearly missing its intended
targets in the dead of night. Regardless, his actions helped us break
contact with this group and represented us as a much larger force;
possibly saving our bacon. After that blast, we never saw hide nor hair of
our evening visitors and didn’t care to search. We moved a few clicks
to another location to continue the mission. To this day, I can’t tell
you if they lived or died.

After the fire-fight, I asked the Sergeant if he had been sleeping with
that rocket launcher. He just smiled and mumbled something about
keeping things warm. I guess some things are better left unsaid. To
this day, when I hear the name “Rambo”, that Sergeant comes to mind. He
was quite a soldier. While his combat skills are unquestionable, his
navigation skills leave something to be desired: we later learned that
we been in the wrong location the entire time…

The author, Brock Grisham, (nom de Plume) is a long time, trusted friend of libNOTSr.

Brock is a Senior IT Security Manager for the Department of Defense. He
served as a US Army Ranger under the Special Operations Command in the
90’s. He enjoys spending time with his wife and young daughter,
collecting firearms and computers.

Other articles written for libNOT.com by Brock Grisham: China & USA:
The War Has Begun - Is Anyone Listening - Is Anyone Aware? and Israel Matters To You. Here’s Why…

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