College life and Navy life are very different, but there’s one thing they have in common: worried parents.
Whether you’re in college or the Navy, you can count on parents constantly checking in and asking a million questions. These conversations can feel like investigations; especially during deployments.
While Navy parents worry about their sons and daughters being in harm’s way, sailors are usually worried about more important things, like when’s the next port visit and what are their duty days. A little white lie can ease a parent’s worries. Here are some of the most common ones offered:
1. “I’m only allowed one call a month.”
2. “Sorry I won’t be able to call you during my next port visit, I have duty the entire time.”
3. “Of course I’m eating healthy, midrats is the healthiest meal of the day!”
4. “With the hours I work, I have no desire to stay out late.”
5. “Yes, I am spending my money wisely.”
6. “No, I never drink during port visits.”
7. “I spent my entire Hong Kong port visit sightseeing.”
The US Navy is currently testing a robotic ship that would be able to autonomously hunt enemy diesel submarines.
Originally conceived as a DARPA project, the Anti-Submarine Warfare Continuous Trail Unmanned Vessel (ACTUV) is designed to hunt the next generation of nearly silent enemy diesel submarines.
Diesel submarines are quickly proliferating around the world due to their low cost. Russia recently announced that it has launched the world’s “quietest submarine.”
To accomplish its submarine-hunting mission, the ACTUV project is structured around three primary goals: the ability to outmatch diesel submarines in speed at significantly less cost than existing systems, the system’s ability to safely navigate the oceans in accordance with maritime law, and the ability to accurately track diesel submarines regardless of their location.
Tests of the ACTUV have been promising. Defense One reported in March that during six weeks of testing off the coast of Mississippi the ACTUV was capable of autonomously avoiding randomly moving vessels while navigating around natural obstacles.
The next major test for the ACTUV will be having the drone attempt to trail a submarine while other vessels attempt to block it.
Although diesel submarines are not capable of carrying out open ocean operations for as long or as quickly as nuclear submarines, diesel submarines still present the US with an asymmetric challenge. Significantly cheaper and more quiet-running than their nuclear counterparts, diesel subs can enable navies around the world to harass military and civilian transport along coastal routes.
The threat of diesel submarines could increase, as Franz-Stefan Gady notes at The Diplomat, as the next generation of these vessels will feature propulsion systems and lithium-ion batteries, making them even quieter and harder to detect.
The technical challenges are steep: “Picking up the quiet hum of a battery-powered, diesel-electric submarine in busy coastal waters is like trying to identify the sound of a single car engine in the din of a major city,” Rear Admiral Frank Drennan said in March 2015.
By creating the ACTUV, the US Navy will be able to more accurately track the proliferation of enemy diesel submarines. The transition to using drones for such missions will also ultimately save the Navy considerable resources and manpower.
“Instead of chasing down these submarines and trying to keep track of them with expensive nuclear powered-submarines, which is the way we do it now, we want to try and build this at significantly reduced cost,” DARPA program manager Ellison Urban said at a National Defense Associate Event in Virginia.
“It will be able to transit by itself across thousands of kilometers of ocean and it can deploy for months at a time. It can go out, find a diesel-electric submarine and just ping on it.”
Everyone’s a critic. After you complete a job, someone is going to tell you how you did. If you messed up, you’re gonna hear about it.
In the military, if you did good work, you may have heard the term “Bravo Zulu,” which means “well done,” — but…why?
Since the Navy has strong traditions, motivated sailors tend to uphold those traditions and use nautical terms in their everyday dialogue. But why not just say “well done,” right?
According to the Navy, the popular term comes from the Allied Naval Signal Book created by NATO as a system of signals displayed by either a flag hoist or voice radio to communicate and relay messages back and forth between various naval vessels.
The system is comprised of letters and/or numbers that are represented by flags and pennants which have meaning either by themselves or in different combinations.
The Navy uses a system of 68 flags covering the 26 letters of the alphabet, 10 numeral, 10 numeral pennants, 4 substitutes, and 18 special flags and pennants.
When a ship wants to relay a message like “well done,” they will hold up the two flags like shown below.
If a vessel wants to communicate another message like “action is being carried out” they would hang up the “Bravo Alpha” flag or “action is not being carried out” the “Bravo India” flag will get hoisted.
A hoisted “Bravo” flag by itself means the vessel is “carrying dangerous cargo” which is far different than doing a job “well done.” For more nautical messages click here.
We all know that washing your hands for at least 20 seconds with warm soapy water is the key to prevent disease from spreading. But back in Colonial America, lots of people didn’t have access to soap or water. In fact, most historians think average Americans bathed just a few times a year. That means you probably get haircuts more often than early Americans took baths.
If your skin is getting dried and chapped from all this handwashing and hand sanitizing, trust us when we say early Americans had it way worse. Hygiene was basically non-existent for early American colonists and when they did get around to cleaning themselves, it wasn’t nearly up to our standards. Overall, it was all pretty gross.
Life in Colonial America had a lot going on – from forging independence from the United Kingdom to early settlers exploring the lands wanted to call home. With all the exploring and war-waging, sometimes it was tough to keep up with personal hygiene. In fact, bathing wasn’t that important at all.
Sometimes people went months without bathing
Forget about one shower a day or even one shower a month. Most early Americans probably went entire months without setting foot inside water. That’s because it took forever to gather enough water for a bath – not to mention wasting all that precious firewood. When a person finally made it to the tub, it’s likely that they bathed in the same water as everyone else who lived in their house. Talk about gross.
But even in warm months, most early Americans shied away from taking baths. Lots of people thought taking too many baths might make a person get sick.
No one used soap in Colonial America
Today’s fitness wearables have alerts programmed in to tell you when you’ve washed your hands long enough to kill germs and bacteria. Most people in America bathe once a day and wash their hair at least that often, too. But people in Colonial America didn’t have wearables, much less running water or indoor plumbing. So there was no one telling them how long to wash for, or even that washing every day was important.
Social status wasn’t really tied to hygiene, or how good a person smelled or how fresh their clothes were. In fact, most working-class people barely had enough clothing to change from one day to the next, so they just wore the same outfit on repeat. That makes early Colonial Americans the original Capsule Wardrobe enthusiasts. Most people had just two outfits – one for everyday wear and one for special occasions and Sundays.
So people just wore the same clothes every day and didn’t both washing them or their bodies. Besides that, the whole soap making process took forever and was super time consuming so unless you had some soap lying around, you probably weren’t itching to take a bath.
And then when you did, the lye soap popular back in the day probably dried your skin out and left you rashy anyway – so maybe it was best to stay away from baths. Today’s handwashing definitely gets annoying but it’s definitely better than the alternative in Colonial America.
Last year, President Trump drew headlines all over the world with the announcement that he intended to establish a new branch of the American armed forces dedicated solely to orbital and deep-space defense. This new Space Force would be responsible for defending America’s sizeable satellite infrastructure from potential attack and hardening the means by which America has come to rely on orbital technology in day to day life as well as defense.
The concept wasn’t without its critics, with some discounting the very idea of space defense as a flight of fancy and national level competitors accusing America of militarizing an otherwise peaceful theater… but the truth of the matter is, space has been a battlespace since mankind first started lobbing rockets at it.
The Space Race, which was in every appreciable way an extension of the Cold War that benefited from good PR, may have ended with Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin landing on the moon in 1969, but the race to leverage space for military purposes continued going strong for decades to come. In fact, one could argue that reaching the moon marked only the end of the public-facing space race, but not the end of the competition between American and Soviet space programs.
Despite reaching the Moon first, America still had pressing concerns in space.
So heated was the race to militarize space during the Cold War that the Defense Department actually already had a Space Force of sorts starting way back in the 1970s. This secretive program was vast, with a .3 billion California-based spaceport meant for secretive space shuttle launches into polar orbit, a secret group of 32 military-trained astronauts, and plans to fly more shuttle flights per yearthan NASA itself at one point.
The military astronauts weren’t actually called astronauts — they were called Spaceflight Engineers, and in total, the Air Force’s Manned Spaceflight Engineer Program had 134 military officers and civilian experts assigned to it. These men and women worked out of the aforementioned California launch complex as well as the Pentagon’s own version of mission control in Colorado, and a third facility in Los Angeles that housed the Spaceflight Engineers themselves.
In the early days of the program, some of the Pentagon’s astronauts even hitched rides on NASA shuttle missions hoping to increase cooperation and cross-train on flight methodologies.
Air Force Spaceflight Engineer Maj. Gary Payton (back left) along with NASA crew members Loren Shriver (front left) and Ken Mattingly (front right), with Jim Buchli and Ellison Onizuka (behind).
“Between these two agencies, it really was a shotgun marriage,”said retired Air Force Col. Gary Payton, who served as Deputy Undersecretary of the Air Force for Space Programs until his retirement in July 2010.
“NASA thought of us as a bunch of snotty-nosed kids, outsiders, almost guests…nothing more than engineers or scientists who tended one particular satellite or experiment, and typically flew just once. We, on the other hand, thought our job was to help bridge the gulf between the military and civilian space agencies.”
The plan was for the Defense Department’s shuttles to launch from California and enter into a polar orbit, which was more beneficial for the Defense Department’s secretive missions than the equatorial orbit commonly reached from Florida launch complexes. The Pentagon’s plans called for an absolutely mind-boggling 12-14 launches per year. That was far more than NASA was prepared to manage, but the result would have been an extremely resilient and redundant space defense infrastructure long before any nation was prepared to present a viable threat to American interests in orbit.
The Space Shuttle offered a wide variety of mission sets, but with a great deal of risk.
But then in 1986, the Space Shuttle Challenger exploded 73 seconds after launch, killing all seven crew members on board. It was a crushing blow to NASA, but hit the Manned Spaceflight Engineer Program even harder. It forced the Pentagon to acknowledge two difficult truths about manned shuttle missions: when they fail, people die — and the whole world notices.
“By 1987, it was all gone,” said William J. Baugh, director of public affairs for the Air Force Second Space Wing at Falcon Air Force Base in Colorado told the New York Times. “By that time, Challenger had its problem, and we decided to get out of the shuttle business.”
The Pentagon opted to transition toward a system of mostly unmanned rocket launches for the deployment of new satellites, leaning on NASA and the Space Shuttle for some classified missions when the payloads were too big or complex for other rockets like the Titan IV.
“It’s disappointing,” Maj. Frank M. DeArmand, a Spaceflight Engineer who never got to fly, said in 1989. “We all had the excitement and expectation of flying on the shuttle. But I’m not bitter. It was the right decision.”
Soldier lingo has a tendency to reference things that only exist in the Army. Here are some terms outsiders probably don’t know.
1. Private News Network: The rumor mill or soldier gossip.
2. Grab some real estate: This is a command to get on the ground and start exercising, usually with pushups. It’s issued as a punishment for a minor infraction. The command can also be stated as, “beat your face.”
3. LEG/NAP: Acronyms for any soldier who is not trained to parachute from airplanes. LEG, or low-entry ground soldier, is considered offensive. Non-airborne personnel, or NAP, is the accepted term. Most NAP are quick to point out that airborne soldiers, once they reach the ground, are little different from their peers.
4. Fister: An artillery observer. The term refers to the soldier being part of the Fire Support Team, or FiST. These soldiers direct cannon fire. The symbol of the observers is a fist clutching a lightning bolt.
5. Beat feet: To move from your current location quickly.
6. Don’t get wrapped around the axle: Refers to how vehicles can be halted or destroyed when something, like wire, wraps around the axle. It means a soldier needs to steer clear of the little problems and move on to the real issues.
7. Azimuth check: Azimuth checks are a procedure in land navigation when a soldier makes sure they haven’t wandered off course. Outside of patrols or land navigation courses, azimuth check means to stop and make sure the current task is being done right.
8. “Acquired” gear: Equipment that may have been, but probably wasn’t, obtained through proper channels.
9. Good Idea Fairy: Like the tooth fairy, except it creates work for junior soldiers. It suggests to officers and sergeants that they should grab the closest soldiers and make them do something like build new shelves, clean out a storage unit, or mow grass with office scissors.
10. Why the sky is blue: Soldiers, even the noncombat ones, are trained starting in basic training that the sky is not blue because air particles transmit blue light. It’s blue because infantry soldiers are denoted by blue cords, discs, and badges, and God loves the infantry.
11. Fourth point of contact: A butt. In Airborne Training, future paratroopers are trained to fall through five points of contact. First, they hit the balls of their feet, then they roll across the ground on their calf muscle, thigh, buttocks, and finally torso.
12. Come up on the net: Communicate with your unit what is going on with your personal life or the mission.
13. Joes: Slang term for soldiers, usually referring to the junior enlisted personnel. Can also be used as “Private Joe Snuffy” to refer to a single soldier generically.
14. PX Ranger: A soldier who has a lot of unnecessary gear that they bought for themselves from a post exchange or other shop.
15. CAB Chaser: Noncombat soldiers who try to get into a minor engagement to earn a combat action badge. They generally do this by volunteering for patrols and convoys where they aren’t needed.
16. Beat your boots: A physical exercise. A soldier stands with their legs shoulder-width apart, hands on hips. They then lower at the waist, hit their boots or shoes with their hands, return to the start position, and repeat. Generally used for punishing minor infractions.
17. Dash ten: The user manual. Army publications are all assigned a number. Technical manuals, the closest thing to a civilian user/owner manual, are usually assigned a number that ends in “-10.”
18. Sham shield: Derogatory name for the rank of specialist. Specialists are expected to shirk some duties and the symbol for a specialist is shaped like a small shield.
The two most welcomed smells in the military are coffee and gunpowder, and if you’re in the field, you may get both. There are few things that are as satisfying as your favorite cup of Joe when you’re on duty in garrison, training, or forward deployed. Nobody wants to be that guy who falls asleep on post — legal consequences aside, it’s just downright embarrassing.
Staying alert begins with preparation and tactical knowledge of the endless options vying for our patronage. The brands of coffee we enjoy say a lot about ourselves and what’s important to us. When we stand post, looking out into the abyss, reflecting on our lives and why we fight, a warm cup in our hands is a welcomed friend.
Black Rifle Coffee Company
Black Rifle Coffee Company is a veteran-owned and operated brand that brings a level of professionalism and attention to detail that can only be expected from veterans. While massive corporations will sacrifice quality for profit, this company’s quality assurance team will not. Not only do they make a mean brew, but they are also a positive reflection of veterans, successfully assimilating and thriving in the private sector.
Café Bustelo is like a Marine infantry sergeant: aggressive, strong, and possibly foreign. It has a balanced taste, but it will definitely give you the intense energy boost that one needs at zero-wtf. It’s small, lightweight, and you can toss it in with the gear. The officers and Staff NCOs aren’t going to deny free coffee, either.
Folgers, classic roast
Folgers is the brand people love to rag on, but let’s be honest here: it’s pretty good. Their marketing is even better. There is a 100% chance that when you saw the name, you sang the jingle in your head. “The best part of wakin’ up is Folgers in your cup.“
Folgers seals its product in airtight plastic containers, ensuring that when you need it, it’s still fresh. Plastic containers bring their own benefit to the field because they’re water resistant, which is particularly important when it’s raining sideways.
The crucial part of the equation, no matter which brand you select, is the water-to-grounds ratio. For every six fluid oz of water, add one tablespoon of coffee — two tablespoons for a strong cup, and three or more if you want to see sound.
There’s a stigma against drinking Starbucks in the military because, in 2004, an email circulated around the internet stating that the company did not support the war or the troops. This rumor has been proven false, but the truth somehow doesn’t usually have the same reach of the rumor mill.
Bringing Starbucks to the office or field is a Bootenant move, albeit a delicious one. If you’re a staff NCO, you know your role as an advisor to the brass, guide him to more rugged-fix-bayonets coffee when your little booter is ready. Until then, enjoy the Caramel Frappuccinos and other embarrassingly named treats they’re willing to share.
Good ol’ standardized, rust-bucket, gut-rot coffee from Uncle Sam
We live in a society where we can have whatever we want, whenever we want it. We’ve come a long way, but sometimes that rust-bucket coffee from the mess hall is exactly what the doctor ordered. There were times in Afghanistan when a hot cup of mud after a patrol would hit the spot. Warriors do more with less, they’re a hardened breed, and that’s why they never take life — or coffee — for granted.
Here we are, America. Over the last 10 days, we’ve entered into our own experience with the COVID-19 global pandemic that has catapulted the United States into unfamiliar waters. Early indicators saw a few isolated, regional cases followed abruptly by concerns in sports; particularly basketball. Clear warning signs from China and Italy forewarned us that things change gradually; until they change suddenly. The COVID-19 virus is clearly a dangerous enemy that, within 2-3 weeks, has resulted in 44,000 cases in all 50 states and over 500 deaths.
America, you’re new to sheltering in place, lockdowns, and travel restrictions. Understood. Mundane practices such as handwashing and covering your mouth were, until very recently, social niceties. Now they’re social mandates. Such is life on a deployment, America, where restrictions and hygiene are there for your safety. These things can work. Aside from a threat of nuclear war, you’ve enjoyed life over the last several decades free from a universally threatening entity that exposes you to acute and widespread danger.
Those of us in uniform are grateful for you have offer, “Thank you for your service!” in many ways through military discounts. Good for you! If I may now be of further service to you, America, and provide a few tips on how to survive (and thrive) now that we’re all in this deployment together.
Rational fear motivates unhelpful and irrational behavior. I haven’t seen any clear results on the effectiveness of a toilet paper stockpile on limiting disease progression. While COVID-19 is a clear and present danger, the relationship between the toilet paper stocks and the disease impact is not. We tend to collect comfort items and quasi-defensive items for those just-in-case moments. Today’s toilet paper is yesterday’s nuclear weapons. Such is the irrational behavior motivated by real threats to our comfort or safety. Military folks have experienced the “gas chamber” where you’re herded into a small building wearing gas masks. Required to stand there for 60-90 seconds for the full effect, you had to say your name and unit then proceed to the exit when instructed. I remember dropping my gas mask within full view of a Marine gunnery sergeant whose icy look created a cloud of doom around me. I quickly forgot about the gas chamber as I was schooled about the importance of staying calm and following instructions via flutter kicks and pushups. Keep calm, America, don’t drop your mask.
Everyone matters and contributes to the mission. America, your social and occupational activities are more interconnected than you realize. You commute on the same interstates, fly out of the same airports, make picks on the same March Madness bracket (at least you did), and have a similar Monday through Friday rhythm. When deployed, your mission changes, into a team mission that includes keeping yourself and those around you healthy. Carrying a litter(or stretcher) is a team-task. Since 9/11/2001, many of us have unfortunately carried several litters. Not the fancy wheelio kind that roll and fold into an ambulance—the two-pole variety that requires strong bodies and support an injured or sick buddy. America, carrying on the daily business means recognizing fully that we are a team and that the COVID-19 mission requires that we will have to “carry a litter;” both figuratively and literally. Carry on, America, we’re all in this together.
Watch your muzzle: Safe weapon handling is a fundamental task that each Soldier must learn and never forget to execute. The barrel, or muzzle, of your weapon must always be pointed downrange safely away from others. The weapon is always treated as if loaded and we must trust one another to carry and utilize it safely for the sake of the team. The same now goes for an uncontrolled, uncovered cough in public—it’s as dangerous now as a mishandled weapon and a frank reminder that we all hold the safety of others in our hands. Watch your muzzle, America–cover your cough and point it safely downrange.
Care for equipment
Dust, dirt, and carbon buildup inside a Soldier’s weapon may impair it and cause a malfunction. Occasionally, poor maintenance will lead to a safety hazard for the user, but, more frequently it just doesn’t work. America, your hands are similar to a Soldier’s weapon. They can carry COVID-19 and many other bad things that could harm you or others. Take care of your equipment, America, wash your hands.
Find the guy with the guitar
Good music can be uplifting in hard times. Music helps to both remember and forget; necessary during these times. A guy with a guitar strumming praise songs, country songs, or anything else can be a welcome reprieve and a particular song can hold memories for years to come. “Beer for My Horses” by Toby Keith and Willie Nelson was one of my family’s deployment songs that I had burned onto a CD back when it was still legal in 2003 before Operation Iraqi Freedom started. Just hearing it now takes us right back to those times. Drew and Elie Holcombare fast becoming our pandemic YouTube and Spotify favorites; a few of their videos may have gone viral—er, my apology. Too soon, right?
Write your war story
Things are moving fast, America. You are being asked to do unfamiliar things like stay at home, be resourceful, and contribute in brave, new ways. America, you have doctors, nurses, truck drivers, grocery workers, utilities personnel and multitudes others who have been thrust unwittingly onto the front lines of this pandemic leaving new tales of heroes.
How will you account for this? I recall going to a battalion command update once as a new Captain where I heard crazy acronyms, jargon, inside jokes, and major issues being discussed in a confusing blur it was difficult to understand. A squad leader nearby was writing detailed notes in an impressively dog-eared 5×8″ green notebook that resonated with attention to detail with sketches and personal notes. He gave me a fresh notebook and started my unbroken legacy of journaling that yielded over two dozen volumes of key missions, notes to myself, lessons, books I’ve read, sustaining Bible verses, historical events—and coffee stains.
There is even a website where Soldiers share their own personal lessons called From The Green Notebook that chronicles the self-developmental benefits of writing for military personnel. Now as a senior officer, I am profoundly grateful for the tip that that NCO shared with me on how to keep the fast-moving details organized. Now is your time, America. As fast as things are moving, time is compressed and a week feels like an eternity ago.
America, I submit that the consequences disease and war are challenging. COVID-19 will mark our society earliest upon our hospitals, physicians, and nurses who will do their best to save our fellow citizens. Physical therapists, respiratory therapists, and many others will be needed to restore mobility and health to the many who recover. Rally to support those heroes and, if you’re one of them, I applaud you.
We should hope that COVID-19 kills some things around us, and it should claim them hard and mercilessly. Those things are caustic political partisanship, self-absorption, divisiveness and the wasting of precious resources. Infect those things, COVID-19, and relegate them to the dustbin of history. What a luxury it was when our major social distancing focus was upon Prince Harry and Megan Markle leaving the UK. Good times, America, good times. Instead of this vacuousness, may unity, teamwork, and the reality of our interconnectedness spring forth. Shared sacrifice develops deep bonds, America.
These are historic times you’re in, America. You’ve been here before. Over the next few weeks, if you’re having trouble keeping calm, carrying on, caring for your equipment, or finding the guy with the guitar, please keep your muzzle pointed downrange as we saddle up and face COVID-19 together. I want you on my team so that a few months from now we can raise up our glasses and it’ll be my turn to thank you for your service!
COL Theodore Croy is an Army physical therapist and the Dean of the Graduate School at the US Army Medical Center of Excellence located at Joint Base San Antonio-Fort Sam Houston, TX and has 31 years of military service.
These views are those of the author and in no way represent any endorsements or the official views of the Department of Defense, Department of the Army, or the US Army Medical Center of Excellence.
The Navy’s youngest sub is the USS John Warner, a Virginia-class attack submarine. Commissioned in August and launched in September, it’s the most advanced and dangerous vessel in the oceans today.
The John Warner “is the most high-tech, it is the most lethal warship pound for pound that we have in our inventory,” Adm. Jonathan Greenert told CNN while he was the Chief of Naval Operations.
The 337-foot long sub carries 12 Tomahawk cruise missiles in vertical launch tubes and has four torpedo tubes that can fire Mk 60 CAPTOR mines, Harpoon anti-ship missiles, or Mk 48 heavyweight torpedoes. The submarine can carry up to 40 weapons, trading out certain missiles and torpedoes as required.
All this firepower means the USS John Warner can kill targets whether they’re underwater, on the surface, or on land.
The British are coming, the British are coming!” This cry likely brings to mind the name of Paul Revere, immortalized in Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s poetry. Students learn about the legendary ride as early as elementary school, but Revere’s younger, female counterpart is rarely mentioned: Sybil Ludington.
On April 26, 1777, when she was just 16 years old, Sybil rode from Putnam County, New York to Danbury, Connecticut to warn of advancing British troops. Her ride took place in the dead of night, lasting from 9:00 P.M. to dawn the next morning. She rode her horse, Star, over 40 miles to warn 400 militiamen that the British troops were planning to attack Danbury, where the Continental Army held a supply of food and weapons.
The militiamen were able to move their supplies and warn the residents of Danbury. The afternoon following her warning, British troops burned down several buildings and homes, but few people were killed. It was considered a wild success by the militiamen. Sybil was heralded as a hero by her friends, neighbors, and reportedly even General George Washington.
Her ride is similar to those of William Dawes and Paul Revere in 1775 in Massachusetts, and Jack Jouett in 1781 in Virginia. However, Sybil rode more than twice the distance of these midnight riders and was far younger. You may ask why Sybil was the one to take on this ride: Her father, Henry Ludington, was a colonel and the head of the local militia.
Sybil had long moved from town to town with her father and previously saved his life from a royalist assassination attempt. It’s not known if Sybil volunteered for her ride or if her father requested her assistance in a moment of need. In any case, her brave contribution undoubtedly saved the lives of many men, women, and children.
After the war, at 23, Sybil married a man named Edmond Ogden. Together they had one child, and settled on a farm in Catskill, New York. Here, they lived and worked until her death in 1839. She was 77 years old. Sybil was buried near her father in the Patterson Presbyterian Cemetery in Patterson, New York.
Although remembered in Putnam county and the surrounding area, Sybil Ludington was largely lost to the annals of American history. It wasn’t until after her death that her story gained traction. The tale of her ride was first shared among her family and eventually documented by her grandson. In 1880, a New York historian named Martha Lamb published an account of Sybil Ludington’s famed ride in a book about the New York City area, documenting Sybil’s life after her ride as well.
In 1935, New York State commissioned a series of historical markers along Sybil’s route. A statue of the young woman was erected near Carmel, New York in 1961 and smaller statues can be found stretching from the Daughters of the American Revolution Headquarters in Washington, D.C. to Murrells Inlet, South Carolina.
Sybil made an appearance on a postage stamp as part of the “Contributors to the Cause” United States Bicentennial series in 1975. Since 1979, every year in April a 50K ultramarathon is put on in honor of Sybil’s legendary ride. The hilly course covers roughly the same grounds as Sybil’s route, and finishes near her statue on the shore of Lake Gleneida, Carmel, New York.
It’s worth noting that not every historian is convinced of the veracity of Sybil Ludington’s midnight ride. Paula D. Hunt published a paper in The New England Quarterly arguing that there’s no reliable historical evidence to prove Ludington indeed made the trip from New York to Connecticut. The New York Times also examined the issue in a 1995 article about the Sybil Ludington statue in Carmel.
The Royal Marines piled into helicopters and boats and inserted into Estonian territory, hitting positions on the mainland and on an isolated island, doing their best to inflict maximum casualties on the Estonian Volunteer Defence Force during an exercise designed to see whether that countries tiny military can adequately defend itself against a top-tier foe.
And make no mistake about it, the Royal Marines are true commandos and are top-tier. But the local forces defending the island of Saaremaa included many members who had grown up on the island, and they fought the British to what referees called an Estonian victory. The Royal Marines called it a draw, according to an article in the British publication Plymouth Herald.
Also, in the Royal Marines’ defense, the Estonians were backed up by British Apaches and likely would have lost their key position, and maybe the whole ball game, without that crucial air support.
The Marines successfully landed reconnaissance teams unseen, and those teams were able to operate for 24 hours undetected. Then, dummy raids on one side of the island drew off defenders before the Royal Marines launched their main assault on the opposite side, allowing them to reach their main objective with little contact.
So each side did well. The Royal Marines were able to hit their objective almost undetected, and the Estonians were able to defend it anyway, and that’s good for both sides because, realistically, Estonia and Britain would more than likely fight on the same side in a war.
And the people Britain would liberate Saaremaa from would not be Estonian locals, they would be Russian commandos.
Under the surface of all European war games of the last few years sits the certainty that Russia’s aggression in Ukraine only faded because it became too costly. If former Soviet Bloc countries who want to remain democratic and free are to do so, they have to be ready to fend off a Russian “grey-zone” attack at any time.
Grey Zone describes hostilities across cyberspace and physical terrain that fall just short of war. The successful Russian seizure of Crimea and the attacks into the Donbas region were both grey-zone operations.
It was once the most heroic thing a soldier could do. They’d strap themselves up with the barest of combat essentials and jump out of the back of a perfectly good aircraft into uncertain danger — often ending up miles away from their intended drop zone and, sometimes, completely on their own.
Combat jumps led the Allied Forces to victory in WWII. These same tactics were employed during the Korean War and Vietnam War and, eventually, were used by Rangers and Green Berets in Grenada and Panama. When it came time for the Global War on Terrorism, well, let’s just say there are only a handful of combat jumps that come without asterisks attached.
It should be noted that this list cannot be exhaustive, as there are likely some jumps that that have yet to be declassified. Also, there were many airborne insertions done in-theater, but those don’t qualify you for the coveted “mustard stain,” so they don’t make the list.
The following are the only jumps that have happened since September 11, 2001 that satisfy all the requirements to fully classify as combat jumps.
Now it is known as Kandahar Airfield, home to the ISAF command, several NATO nation’s commands, a TGI Fridays, and a pond full of human excrement.
(U.S. Air Force photo by Maj. Tony Wickman)
Just 38 days after the horrific attacks of September 11th, the 75th Ranger Regiment sent 200 of their most badass Rangers to meet with the 101st Airborne Division 100 miles south of Kandahar, Afghanistan — the last bastion of complete Taliban control in Afghanistan. The Rangers landed on a derelict strip of land and expected heavy resistance. In actuality, they found just one, lone Taliban fighter who presumably sh*t himself as 200 Rangers dropped in on him.
There, they established a sufficient forward operating base, called FOB Rhino, which opened the way to take back Kandahar for the Afghan people.
Fun fact: they technically beat the next entry by a few days, forever solidifying their bragging rights.
The 75th Rangers, who are featured heavily on this list, led the way into Iraq by making combat jumps into Iraq in March, 2003 — the first in Iraq since Desert Storm.
The Rangers landed in the region a few weeks earlier by airborne insertion to capture the lead operational planner of the September 11th attacks. They accomplished this within three days of touching boots to the ground. The next wave of 2nd Battalion 75th Rangers came to secure al-Qa’im and Haditha before making their way into Baghdad.
If you didn’t know about this one… Don’t worry. Literally everyone in the 173rd will remind you of this whenever their personal Airborne-ness is brought into question.
(U.S. Army photo by Specialist Adam Sanders)
Operation Northern Delay
In the early morning of March 26th, 2003, 996 soldiers of the 173rd Airborne Division jumped into the relatively empty Bashur Airfield and stopped six entire divisions of Saddam’s army from continuing on to Baghdad.
This marked the first wave of conventional troops in the region and the beginning of the end of Saddam’s regime. This was also the only jump conducted by conventional USAF airmen as the 786th Security Forces Squadron also jumped with them.
Come on, 75th Rangers! You guys are leaving out all the good, juicy details of your classified missions!
Various Regimental Reconnaissance Detachment jumps in Afghanistan
Very little is known about the last two publicly-disclosed combat jumps, as is the case with most JSOC missions, other than the fact that they were both conducted by the 75th Ranger Regiment’s Regimental Reconnaissance Company Teams 3 and 1.
RRC Team 3 jumped into Tillman Drop Zone in southeast Afghanistan on July 3rd, 2004, to deploy tactical equipment in a combat military free-fall parachute drop.
This was the last RRC time made a jump until Team 1 jumped five years later on July 11th, 2009, into an even more remote location of Afghanistan — but this time, scant reports state that the jumps including a tandem passenger to aid in deploying tactical equipment.
We’ll just have to wait for the history books to be written, I guess.