It's a State of Mind Captain Charles H. Benson III

State of Mind by Captain Charles H. Benson III more skilled in the use of our communications gear — AM and FM — and in the use of navigation and night vision devices. Because we had virtually no distracters, we were able to ratchet up our standards of physical fitness and demonstrate that cav troopers are every bit as rough and tough as anyone else. When the relief was complete and the infantry company began heading home, my troopers settled into the routine of training, mission execution, resupply, and R&R that became their life for the next four months. With the ARFOR commander, I made my rounds between the remote sites and home base and witnessed what I think is the best work I’ve ever seen soldiers perform anywhere. Platoon leaders and platoon sergeants began cleaning, painting, and improving the facilities at the remote sites. They improved the reaction drills and base defense SOPs at each of the sites, and relentlessly trained their troopers to ever-higher standards in executing these drills. They planned and executed countless day and night patrols of the surrounding countryside. Each remote site had its own dining facility and aid station. The platoon leadership ensured that our attached medics and cooks set about the task of improving their areas and services. The dining facilities got facelifts, and the aid stations thorough cleaning and re-stockings. Our medics taught field sanitation classes, conducted sick call, and began instructing and certifying every member of the troop as a combat lifesaver. The cooks repaired broken ice and ice cream machines, and took turns patrolling with the scouts. The platoons also continued the humanitarian assistance projects which the previous units had established. These included providing donated clothing to local villagers, and assisting a local schoolmaster with repairs to the village school. Back at Soto Cano, our mechanics went to work repairing the HMMWVs, CUCVs, and deuce and a half we were assigned, and healing the wounds caused by rough roads. The mechanics also became experts in the craft of sling-loading. They took charge of nearly all of the aerial resupply operations to our remote sites. The mortars and FIST planned a series of live-fire exercises, and conducted EIB training. They also assisted the maintenance platoon with resupply operations, and took turns going on patrol with the scouts. The troop XO and first sergeant worked long hours. They had already done yeoman work planning and orchestrating the deployment at home station and preparing facilities in Honduras for our arrival as members of the advanced party. Now, they made coordination with the various staff sections for food, fuel, supplies, and services of all types, and the all-important air missions needed to ferry people and equipment back and forth. They established our orderly room and administrative services, and made sure that personnel actions continued without interruption throughout the deployment.

They planned recreational trips and tours for the platoons’ R&R cycles. All of this was planned and executed by lieutenants and sergeants with very little direct involvement by me.

One day, as we were making our flight out to inspect one of the remote sites, the ARFOR commander told me that the JTF commander wanted to visit each of the remote sites with me in a week or so. The companies that had preceded us had all found the mission difficult. He was concerned about the suitability of the mission for a cavalry troop, since it was not a mission he believed that we were normally tasked with. He told me that the JTF commander, a tough soldier with demanding standards, had often left the company commanders a little sore in the hindquarters after his visits. Like a good commander, I told the boss that we’d be ready, and we went about our business.

The day the JTF commander arrived for the inspection, I was a little nervous because I hadn’t spent that much time with the man since my arrival, and remembered the stories the outgoing company commander had told. We flew from Soto Cano to our first site in a UH-1. It was a beautiful sunny morning, and we flew with doors open. As we made our approach, we could see a hint of mist around the mountaintop site, and the forest below seemed lush and wild.

It seemed that some distant memory was awakened in the colonel as the Huey got close enough to the site for him to see the compound guard tower. The platoon at that site had painted the roof of the tower red and white, and turned it into a large cavalry flash. We could see troopers hurrying to secure windows to lock out the prop wash, and running with weapons to man the perimeter. Every movement seemed planned and executed with a sense of urgency and purpose. The colonel looked at me, smiled, relaxed in his seat, and enjoyed the rest of the ride in. Once on the ground, he strolled around the compound, talking with the platoon leader and platoon sergeant, and chatting with individual troopers as they went about their duties.

The scenario repeated itself when we visited our second site. There was none of the shouting or butt chewing that I’d been told to expect. There was just an old soldier obviously enjoying the company of some young troopers who were working hard and serving their country far from home.

As we were walking around, the colonel stopped and turned to me and said “You know, Chuck, I was a bit concerned when I heard they were sending me a cav troop to do this job. But, after seeing your guys and their work, and just watching how they work, I think that we got the right unit for the job. This mission seems like a perfect cavalry mission to me now. And the troopers... you know they’re your troopers just by the way they carry themselves. They don’t have berets, or the most modern equipment, but the way they walk radiates a sense of pride and confidence in who they are... they’re just regular soldiers who give a damn about their job, and it shows. I haven’t seen anything like them in a long time, and am proud to have had the opportunity to serve with them.”

Later in the visit, the colonel was talking with one of the platoon sergeants, and he asked the NCO what he thought set his platoon apart from the others. “It’s their cavalry state of mind, sir,” he replied. The colonel didn’t seem to worry about the remote sites from that day on.

I changed command half way through this mission to assume a second command. During the flight home, I thought about what I wanted to take with me to my next troop, based on the lessons learned in good old Alpha. Of the many things I listed in my solo AAR, the one that stuck and that keeps coming back is that cavalry is a state of mind. This state of mind was what sets us apart from our peers, and inspired us to call out the old “if you ain’t cav, you ain’t...”cadence during our morning PT runs.

A couple of years have passed since that day, and I’ve had a lot of time to reflect upon what that platoon sergeant said, and why it has taken on a special significance for me. He was not boast-42 ARMOR — March-April 1997 Continued on Page 45