by Steven Linde
Lieutenant Steven Danielson was the OIC of one of the teams assigned to SEAL Team 4, he had been with the teams for over three years now and he loved his job. He loved the teams and his teammates, he wanted to make it a career. Steve was stocky at 5’9, short blonde hair, blue eyes and a very outgoing personality. He loved a challenge that’s why he chose to be a SEAL; he knew in his heart that BUD’s and the rest of the training would challenge him beyond anything that he had ever encountered. Once in the program, there were days he thought about ringing the bell, but was always able to talk himself down from that cliff.
He finished BUD’s at the top of his class and then sailed through the rest of the training relishing each new challenge. After he completed his training, he was off to Iraq and then Afghanistan on multiple tours. After his last tour in Afghanistan, he was getting ready to enter his fourth year in the teams and was on the short list for Lieutenant Commander. He felt the only thing missing in his life was a family, with his deploying so often and being focused on his career he found it difficult to hold onto a girlfriend. If he got the promotion it would mean more time at home and his chance for that family at least that’s what he told himself.
For the time being he was getting ready to head back to Coronado in a couple of weeks to a meeting, he was being considered as the executive officer for BUD’s a job he was very interested in. He also loved Coronado and had met some great friends there many were still there and he looked forward to catching up with them again. He had met several women there, there was one in particular that he had meet, her name was Karen. Karen and Steve had kept in contact over the past couple years and although each of them continued to date other people neither never really settled. Karen knew that he was due back in Coronado in a couple of weeks and they had already set a date to see each other and catch up.
While Steve was waiting to go he and his team had been training day in and day out in the kill house. The kill house was a two story house with a living room, kitchen, bedrooms and bathrooms. The house was furnished with couches, chairs, tables, beds and anything else you might find in a home. The teams used them as a practicing tool to allow them to enter a room, assess the situation and take down any of the bad guys. Sometimes the house only had paper targets for the SEAL’s to engage, other times there were mannequins set-up as good and bad guys, other times there were live targets that would engage you, meaning shooting back using paintball guns. Sometimes one of the kill house cadre would charge and attack one of the SEAL’s as they breached the house with a knife or club. The cadre was always trying to keep them on their feet a different surprise at every turn. That’s the way combat was and ever SEAL on the team had multiple combat tours under their belt.
The team had been at it repeatedly for four days now and it was some long days they worked at it until they were released by the cadre and rated as about perfect as they could be. Once the kill house training was done it was time for everyone to hit the ocean for a five mile swim and two mile run. They were running fourteen to fifteen hour days, the purpose was to get them ready for the next combat tour in a couple of months, Steve was hopeful that he wasn’t going and would be transferred to BUD’s however, if that didn’t happen he needed to be ready to deploy with the team. A new officer had been assigned to the team and went through the kill house with them; the purpose was that if Steve did go the team wouldn’t be left without an XO that hadn’t been through the same training. The teams were built so that each man was aware of what each man was capable of; they needed to trust each other when they were deep in the shit.
Chapter Four
The 3rd Infantry Regiment also called the Old Guard is responsible for the security of Washington D.C during times of national emergency or civil disturbance. It’s also the oldest unit in the U.S. Army service since 1784. Its primary responsibilities these days were far more ceremonial than combat related, although they did rotate units in and out of Iraq and Afghanistan. It guards the tomb of the Unknown Soldier at Arlington; it conducts memorial affairs as in participating in the burial of our fallen Soldiers. It has the Fife and Drum Corps they are a U.S. Army marching band that wears continental army uniforms in which it wears during performances.
However, the bottom line is that it’s still and infantry regiment and each and every Soldier within the unit must meet all infantry standards that any other infantry unit must. In conjunction units within the old guard rotate in and out of combat areas serving as infantry. Depending on the side-of-the-fence you’re on you either thought they were one of the Army’s elite units or some chicken-shit toy Soldier, run away when the shit hits the fan units. Fortunately, most Soldiers in the Army believed they were a good unit which had plenty of volunteers and not all of those volunteers were able to make the grade.
With the wars finally winding down the burials had slowed to almost a trickle which was good for the Escort/ Caisson Platoons. It left them more time for training and honing their infantry skills. Most of the men were already combat veterans and those that weren’t wanted to be. Unfortunately for them, those that wanted to be were running out of time. With fewer burials they also spent more time spit shining their personal military equipment and stood for constant inspections, it was part of Army life, but the hated part. Many of the men found honor in participating in the burials, helping the families find closure with their fallen loved ones. They hated what they were doing now and many had put in the paperwork to the Department of the Army to be transferred out of the Old Guard.
The Army wasn’t in a good mood at the time to be transferring anyone anyplace, they were more concerned with the draw-down and getting people out, then worrying about the ones they wanted to keep. Sort of a double edge sword, though as the ones they wanted to keep weren’t going to stay, they didn’t feel the Army was listening to their needs. The reality of the situation was that the Soldiers weren’t going to get what they wanted they were going to get what the Army felt it needed. Because of that the rate of re-enlistment in the unit was dropping while the Senior Officers were trying to figure out why, it was an honor after all to be in the Old Guard.
Certainly some of the men were being transferred within the division to units at Fort Stewart that were getting ready for a final deployment to Afghanistan. Especially the younger Soldiers that had never seen combat were vying for these slots, what they were looking for were the more experienced Soldiers that had multiple combat tours and wanted at least one more, now those men were hard to find.
To add to everything it had been an unusually hot blistering summer, 3rd and 4th Platoon of 1/3 Infantry, 3rd Infantry Regiment was gearing up to move to the field tomorrow, Saturday night at 2200. The men didn’t know if the burial detail would be better than heading to the field for three days, regardless it didn’t matter, they had loaded up the vehicles, placed them in the convoy and were ready for the last inspection in the early afternoon before they departed the motor pool and headed for the woods.
The following morning at 0200 the Charge-of-Quarters (CQ) moved through the barracks banging on the door yelling ‘Alert, Alert, Alert’ the CQ runner started the recall list, calling all of the off post personnel and telling them they were now on alert. The alert wasn’t a surprise by any means, it was common practice to call an alert for a move out to the field. Most of the men thought why so early, especially since they weren’t leaving until much later that evening. It was the Army where logic was thrown out the door and the motto of hurry up and wait was alive and well.
There were all sorts of hustling throughout the barracks, NCO’s were barking orders at the men to get their asses in gear, and they wanted to see them all moving with a sense of urgency. They needed to get all of their gear out of the barracks and up to the vehicles, then stand-by for further orders. It was going to be a long day with a lot of sitting around.
It took about thirty minutes to get the men out of the barracks and to the vehicles. Once they were up there, the NCO’s got a head count, then reported it back to the Pl
atoon leader who reported it back to the company commander. The company commander would accompany them to the field for a couple of days, then return to garrison letting his XO and the two platoon leaders work out the rest of the field exercise.
At 0600 they all headed for chow and then back up to the vehicles, at 1200 they head for lunch and then back to the vehicles, hurry up and wait was the phrase of the day. At 1700 they head back to the mess hall one last time, the difference was they knew it was going to be a week before they had hot chow again. They didn’t consider heating up your MRE’s hot chow, they grabbed as many apples and oranges as well as anything not nailed down to take with them. As far as they knew they weren’t leaving until sometime around 2100 and there were no more meal breaks between now and the morning.
The sunset at 2000, all of the vehicles were parked on the hardstand ready to go, at 2030 word came down for everyone to mount their vehicles and prepare to move out. By 2045 word was given to start the engines, with that all of the vehicles in the convoy fired up they were ready to pull out. By 2050 the lead vehicle, a Humvee with Captain Ward, the company commander in it, moved forward leading the convoy down the road heading north east down a paved service road. After five miles the road would turn into hard packed dirt road with various training areas off to either side.
They would pass all of them and continue for another ten miles moving off the hard packed dirt road onto an uneven un-kept dirt road which would lead them to the Morris Training area. At that time 3rd Platoon would break off and head in the opposite direction. 3rd platoon would act as the OPFOR against 4th platoon, at 2130 they were about three-quarters of the way there when several of the vehicles stopped, and Captain Wards Humvee stopped as well which had the cascading effect of stopping the entire convoy.
Captain Ward was upset thinking that his motor pool was letting him down, a dozen vehicles had quit on him. He thought damn troopers weren’t performing PMS on the vehicles and now they were stuck out here until everything could be fixed. He tried to radio for the mechanics to move up and get busy on fixing the vehicles, but the radio was dead. He tried to use his cell phone to call back to the company, it was dead too. He wondered, ‘what the hell?’
Captain Ward stepped out of his vehicle, some of the mechanics that had accompanied the convoy and were located in the rear of it had run up to explain that their vehicles were dead too. Captain Ward could see vehicle hoods being opened and men climbing into the compartments with flashlights trying to determine the problems with the vehicles. The work by the mechanics went on for thirty minutes, during this time frame he had the signal Soldiers trouble shooting all of the radio’s in the convoy for some reason each one stopped working at the same time.
The mechanics NCOIC hurried to the Captain, “Sir,” said Sergeant First Class Tubman. “As far as we can tell the electrical system on each of those vehicles is fried, they aren’t starting again anytime soon.”
“How many are still running? Captain Ward asked.
“Four.” SFC Tubman replied.
“Only four? What the hell happened Sergeant?” Stated the Captain.
At that time Staff Sergeant Juarez who was the NCOIC for the Signal Platoon walked up.
“What have you got Staff Sergeant?” asked Captain Ward.
“I can’t explain it sir, but every single radio and even our backups are dead, the electronics have been fried.” SSG Juarez replied.
Captain Ward looked at both men, “What the hell is going on?”
SSG Juarez said, “Sir, not only that but I checked around all of the cell phones are dead.”
Captain Ward again looked at both men, then looked down the convoy, “Sergeant Tubman take two men and one of the working vehicles and head back to the company area and send out some help.”
“Yes sir!” replied SFC Tubman. With that the Sergeant turned and left. “Sergeant Juarez continue to try and get at least one of the radios working will you?”
“Yes sir will do.” With that Sergeant Juarez also turned and left.
Chapter Five
President Washington’s Saturday schedule was jam packed per-the-norm, he never really got a day off, like everything else if he wanted free time it had to be penciled in. His days, usually ran from six in the morning until midnight almost every day. Those were just the scheduled hours of work it didn’t account for the many calls he received at all hours of the early morning. He learned to survive on little sleep and lots of caffeine.
That Saturday he had several meetings with ambassadors, his normal Saturday meeting with the Joint Chiefs, followed by lunch with his wife (she made it a must), a telephonic meeting with the Prime Minister of Israel which would take up most of his afternoon. Later in the afternoon he had his daily meeting with his Chief of Staff, Jake Watkins, then dinner with the wife and kids(again another mandated meal set by the wife), then that evening he had a meeting with the entire Cabinet from eight to eleven that night. They were long and grueling days, but it’s what he wanted and knew all about it when he ran and was elected a couple of years ago.
Most of his meetings went as planned the noon time meal with his wife hadn’t gone well at all with the announcement that his mother-in-law was coming to visit for a week. She was a wonderful lady however, she generally spent her entire visits in the past telling him and his staff how to run the country. The first time she visited when they had first entered the White House her behavior was seen as a bit eccentric and tolerable, his staff didn’t seem to mind, not to mention it was all new to them. Yet, after several of her trips to the White House her behavior had become almost intolerable, his wife had to step in several times to separate her from a staff member that had essentially tuned her out.
This time around his wife stated that she would keep a tight leash on her mother and would keep her away from his staff. It was nice to hear and he was sure his wife had good intentions and intended to keep her way. The truth of the matter was that his mother-in-law was a very strong willed woman and her daughter try as she might had very little control over her mother. He returned to his office, sat down in his chair, rubbed his temples and repeating to himself over and over, ‘It’s only for a week, it’s only for a week.’ It didn’t really help but gave the illusion it did.
The Cabinet meeting scheduled for eight that evening was running thirty minutes late because some of the members ran into traffic issues along the speedway. Generally, the meetings seldom took the entire two hours anyway, they went over the minutes from the last meeting, resolved the open issues from the past meetings, then moved onto new business. Since it was a Saturday night and all of them had Sunday off, well except for the President, the pace of the meeting could be brisk at times. They got through the minutes by nine and moved onto the resolving any old business this is what generally took so long. They had kicked some many things down the road for a later date it was amazing anything really got done.
At approximately nine-thirty all of the lights went out in the conference room, it was pitch black in the room, no one moved, not that they could see each other anyway nor find the door out. The protocol should have been that a generator kicked in to provide back-up lighting, it never happened. The President at a minimum would have expected the secret service to bust into the room with flashlights, that didn’t happen either, although two agents did enter the room holding lighters they moved to collect the president. The two agents entered the room and asked the President to come with them, they told the President that it looked like a city wide blackout and they needed to get him to a secure location, the problem was that the secret service really had no idea where that was right now.
They led the President back to the oval office where they had lit some candles. The President wondered where the candles had come from, they looked ancient, possibly from the Civil War. The Chief of Staff was waiting to brief the President, “What’s going on Jake?” asked the President of his Chief of Staff.
“Sir, as far as we can tell we have a city wide power out
age. We have White House personnel looking at the generators trying to determine why they didn’t start. Several things though sir, everyone’s cell phones are dead, all wrist watches have stopped, and there are no automobiles running that we can see.” Said Jake.
The President was lost in thought for a moment, “Shit!”
“Sir?” said the Chief of Staff.
“EMP.” The President replied. “Maybe I’m jumping the gun, check it out.”
Jake stared at the President, “You really think so?” he asked.
“We won’t know until you get moving have it checked out. Get runners out, people on bikes, try motorcycles, older cars, we need to get someone over to the utilities to find out what’s going on there. Let’s get moving!”
The Chief of Staff turned and left the office, the Cabinet members were starting to file in now asking what was going on. “Ladies and Gentleman.” The President said. “We honestly don’t know we are moving as fast as we can to find out. As you know there’s no electricity so it’s slowing us down a bit.”
The secret service escorted the Cabinet members out of the oval office and into the adjoining hallway. Each member would be escorted by an agent back to their own office and given some help with getting some candles and something to light them with, outside of that they were on their own for the moment.
Chapter Six
Lieutenant Steven Danielson was leading his team on a night, four mile ocean swim. It had kicked off at 2000 that evening and was scheduled to run until at least 2200. The plan was that once they had finished the final swim for the week they would meet at Ye Olde Plank Inn, the local dive bar, for some beers to celebrate the end of the training week in the kill house. It was now 2100 and they were only half way through the swim, that’s because a couple of the team members decided to play grab-ass with one of the new guys who hadn’t been out of BUD’s and advanced training but for a few weeks.
