Meridian, Mississippi was something of a sportsman’s paradise. There were two good bass lakes around the airfield and excellent hunting in the forest surrounding the runways. Dove and wood ducks in September with the summer’s oppressive heat not quite yet a memory. Quail and woodcock in the fall with the harvest. The long walk through the high grass, checking the breeze – they’d escape downwind if they could, it would be faster. The holler yonder where they just have to be. The sound of sudden silence – the bell on the setter’s collar hushed as she stood on ramrod point, all fixed intensity, rolling eyes and trembling excitement. The sudden, thrilling flush of the covey right at your feet, from out of nowhere it always seemed. The reminder to pick one target, rather than blaze away at the brown. Shoot one or miss all.
Separate seasons for deer through the winter; gun, bow and black powder. Tree stands and the painstakingly slow stalk of still-hunting. The plash and shiver of the gun dog in January – wet dog and hot coffee, and everywhere the gabble and whir of ducks and geese. Turkey in the springtime. They wake with the dawn, fly down to water and then turn their minds to the hens. Lynch’s “fool proof” was my favorite call, but you had to keep your movements small.
You’d plot your approach keeping the wind in mind for deer, and an occluded sight line for the gobblers, or else you’d never get near them – they’d vanish like ghosts, there one moment and gone the next. You learned to pick your route with precision, step softly, move slowly – every sense heightened. You learned to control your breathing, noticed the sound of your heartbeat, felt the pulse stretching the skin in your neck. You learned to listen not just as a predator, but also as a kind of prey – not everyone you’d meet was conscientious as you’d like them to be, some gunners would shoot without truly checking their targets. It was always good to know of the presence of another hunter before he became aware of yours. Safer.
You learned to see without staring because it is a survival skill among prey to sense and flee from the intensity of a predator’s gaze. You learned to aim true and let fly. The bark of the gun an act of will. A kind of savage joy would commingle with sadness at the take, or frustration at the miss – every shot pleases someone. But mostly in that creeping approach, with every twig and leaf scrutinized for the alarm it might give, every tree, shrub bush or hillock behind which to see and not be seen, the breeze wafting over your face – always in your face – you’d reconnect for a moment with 40,000 years of your ancestors for whom this was a test not of skill but of survival. You could feel the hunter looking out through your eyes, feel his hunger – something primal. Something most of us, accustomed to hunting only for bargains at the supermarket, have lost.
Something the US Marine Corps is trying to renew:
Combat Hunter, a program begun at Camp Pendleton and now being rolled out nationwide, is designed to help Marines stalk and kill insurgents by using their senses and instincts. It emphasizes keen observation of Marines’ surroundings and meticulous knowledge of their foes’ habits.
“This is the most comprehensive training of its kind in our history,” said Col. Clarke Lethin, chief of staff for the 1st Marine Expeditionary Force at Camp Pendleton.
“These are primal skills that we all have but that we evolved out of,” he added. “We are going back in time. The Marines who go through this program will never be the same. They’ll never look at the world the same again.”
No. They won’t.
Wow.
Yeah, that’s awesome. And scary. In a good way.
I love this from the article:
**********************
“Just because someone is a jerk does not mean we can kill them, do you got me?” said Greg Williams….
“Rrrr,” the Marines replied in agreement.
“We never do trigger time unless we do brain time, do you got me?” Williams emphasized.
“Rrrr,” the Marines responded.
***************************
I’ve been told by Marines that they don’t really say “Oo-rah.” It’s a much more primal kind of grunt. Like “Rrrr.” God bless them.
GEN Mattis strikes again! He also spearheaded the “immersion” training that they rave about at Pendleton. What a wonderful and powerful impact he is having on the entire Corps–and now, at USJFCOM, the entire military. He is a national treasure.
fbl,
And he’s a natuural to replace Petraues AFTER the election, too. Depending…
b2
I’m not so sure, Badbob. He’s such a political lightning rod (“It’s fun to kill people”), that perhaps he is more effective and impactful in relatively lower-visibility positions such as JFCOM (Petraeus’ position has a strong political component both at home and in Iraq, of course).
And perhaps I misunderstand, but wouldn’t going from JFCOM to MNF-I be a step down for him, career-wise?
You’re right.
I forgot time has gone on and he’s JFCOM 4 star.. I dealt with him a bit when he was CO of the 7th. I always like to see real warriors in the fight though. He could jump into Mullen’s job at CENTCOM?… NAH..
b2
Back in 86-87 when I was in the 25thID(L) we spent quite a bit of time on “fieldcraft”, learning tracking skills, how to spot spoil, and things that just didn’t quite fit. Now that wouldn’t directly translate to an urban/mout environment, but I was surprised in reading “House to House” by SSG Bellavia, how reactive they were in locating the insurgents.
It can be very difficult to locate the enemy, but trust me, it’s worth it. There is always the challenge of not having enough of that most precious training resource (time) to learn everything you want, but this sounds like a very good use of resources.
Hmm. If the skills ‘evolved out’ I hope we don’t have to wait a millennium for them to evolve back in.
Check out the link below to a story about a man in Vietnam and the advantage he had due to growing up squirrel hunting. It meshes well with your post.
http://www.nrapublications.org/archives/squirrel_hunting.asp
Although the general context is vastly different, both your post and Leroy’s link took me way back. Squirrels, ducks, fish, doves and quail were dinner at our house, too. I loved those times in the woods, on the lake or the creek with my daddy. I learned a lot besides how to hunt and fish.
People first, ideas second, technology third.
It’s interesting today that fewer and fewer hunt and fish and raise their children to do the same. I get a great deal of enjoyment out of teaching my 9-year old the ways of the woods, how to walk quietly, how to keep all your senses on alert, how to kill an animal.
These are skills, not necessarily being “evolved” out, but just being neglected.
Good job to the USMC to teach this to their young…
“Rrr!”
Y’know, when I watched The Addams Family, as a kid,
every time Lurch said “Rrr!”
I thought, “I concurrr!”
No we won’t. I went through it over a month ago and I still profile and track all the time.