Through the eyes of the home front guard corps. “He survived“.
Well, that is what “survival school” is supposed to teach 
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SERE SchoolBy lex, on March 7th, 2009
45 comments to SERE School |
Targets of Opportunityblog advertising is good for you Credo"Sign on, young man, and sail with me. The stature of our homeland is no more than the measure of ourselves. Our job is to keep her free. Our will is to keep the torch of freedom burning for all. To this solemn purpose we call on the young, the brave, the strong, and the free. Heed my call, Come to the sea. Come Sail with me." -- John Paul Jones "Pardon him, Theodotus; he is a barbarian, and thinks that the customs of his tribe and island are the laws of nature" --George Bernard Shaw, "Caesar and Cleopatra" "And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music."--Friedrich Nietzsche "A kind Providence has placed in our breasts a hatred of the unjust and cruel, in order that we may preserve ourselves from cruelty and injustice. They who bear cruelty, are accomplices in it. The pretended gentleness which excludes that charitable rancour, produces an indifference which is half an approbation. They never will love where they ought to love, who do not hate where they ought to hate."--Edmund Burke “You say that it is your custom to burn widows. Very well. We also have a custom: when men burn a woman alive, we tie a rope around their necks and we hang them. Build your funeral pyre; beside it, my carpenters will build a gallows. You may follow your custom. And then we will follow ours.”--General Sir Charles Napier "Μολὼν λαβέ" -- Leonidas "Blogito Ergo Sum" -- Neptunus Lex Amazon AssociateFor the Effort!Winnar! Subscribe CategoriesPagesTagsacademy
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SN#2- the rotorhead went thru and was the SRO in a SERE C class of 72 pax as a 24 year old 1LT. From what his classmates told me, (of what the COULD tell me), he rose to the occasion. Nothing that he has ever done filled me with more respect and pride for him as hearing that. He came out of there a different man.
I came out of there wanting to meet a particular individual instructor. Alone. In some deserted alley.
I made the decision that I would never be taken alive if it were in my power.
As an AWC, I was the SRE for my class (a few weeks after 9/11);the PO2 SeaBee was more than happy to pass that one on.
You may ask how a career AW with 4200 flight hours (at that point) managed to avoid SERE school.
Skill. COMPATWINGPAC finally caught me though
Still, the SERE instructors left me with a mountain of experience, confidence and my screen name.
When I returned from SERE in San Dog, a few of my classmates and I decided to venture out to snack bar/E-club type joint by our Q (over by DelTaco). We ordered a large pizza and a pitcher each. After one slice and a pint, most of us were quite *done*. We waited a few minutes for afternoon colors, rendered appropriate civvie clothes honors (which caught us a few looks from the unknowing) and returned to our respective rooms for some marathon sleep.
Best school in the Navy that I wished to never repeat! Mailed off several copies of the graduation certificate to the parents and instructed them to place it under my birth certificate in the baby book….just in case!
SERE in January in Maine SUCKED. But I think it probably beat having to deal with rain and bugs in the spring/summer/fall. (And I got to walk in snow shoes!)
Lex, thanks also for the introducing us to “tryingtogrok.” Good stuff.
Lex, thanks also for the introducing us to “tryingtogrok.” Good stuff.
She’s a tremendous woman. Check the archives to find out she was dealing with the two weeks he was incommunicado…
I went through Maine in October, arguably the best time of year to go through SERE, just cool enough to not be sweating profusely yet not cold enough to be shivering and no snow. I don’t imagine my SERE experience was any different from anyone else who went through(the training is pretty standardized), however 3 years later as we enter the Gulf for the tail end of OSW and started dropping bombs in Iraq, we had an AME1 check into the squadron. He looked very familiar but I couldn’t quite place him. He had an unforgettable New England accent and I thought maybe I had crossed paths with him a the RAG or maybe in the TRACOM somewhere. Nope, this guy was the Senior Enlisted on the red side. We shared some sea stories about Maine and went on about our business. His experience in SERE was invaluable to our Ready Room as we prepared to go in harm’s way. He provided several training lectures that was a very good review being 3 years removed from that training. Thankfully none of had to use it. I did want to smack him across the face just once though.
Vacationed at Warner Springs back in the summer of ’67. They wouldn’t let us trap (or at least try to) the local rabbits due to parasites common in that area. Instead they brought in 2 domestic bunnies and 3 or 4 pidgeons. These were cleaned by those of us who knew how and thrown into a 15 gallon pot with a couple of cups of rice and a few scraggly carrots to boil.
I was conniving enough to get at the tail end of the chow line (as we only got one scoop with our canteen cup) to be able to find the bottom of the pot and came out with 2 rabbit’s heads. I offered one around but, alas, no takers. Chowed down in style… Those guys just weren’t hungry enough, I guess.
After release I stopped by the grocery store and bought the biggest steak they had. Grilled it, ate about 3 bites, went to bed…
I also vacation at Warner Springs, but in 1968 and I got the dubious distinction of becoming an instructor there as well. Of course I had to go through the school and like a total idiot, I never picked up on the fact that five of us (also assigned) were dressed differently from the rest of the student. I remember the pigeons and the rabbits, and the fact that grown men will run like children when an improperly dispatched rabbit comes back to life and starts crying.
We had an ensign leading our group in the navigation exercise and he managed to get us lost in the deadly heat of summer. If it wasn’t for a couple of us enlisted, we’d have likely had some serious casualties. We found water the old fashioned way, saw some beautiful green trees next to a dry river bed.
At the end of the exercise, they tied my hands behind me (not quite over yet), threaten to shoot me if I didn’t eat everything they fed me and proceeded to drop a raw oyster into my mouth, chases with a raw egg (cracked on my forehead) and finished it off with a bottle of catsup.
I did almost the same thing when we got back to North Island (FAETUPAC DET 6).They took us to the mess hall to get something to eat and I decided to go over to the bowling alley and get some real food. Big mistake. I went through the menu like a man possessed. Big mistake that. I almost ended up in Balboa Naval Hospital for observation due to eating too much.
I don’t remember anything being as tough in life as going through that school. Someone on another board mentioned one person dying up there and I might be the corpsman one who dealt with that death. Sadly, they brought in someone who had been dead for hours and asking the corpsman to do something for him.
Ate sand?? God, it was only a week in the field.
While I never wish to repeat that particular training course, I think everyone should take it. The training was just that good.
Afterward, quick nap and a trip to the Chinese buffet. We were all quite full after half a plate, but it was a buffet, so we malingered a bit and ate again in 20 minutes. Rinse and repeat until they kicked us out at closing time. I think I gained the 6 pounds I had lost right then and there.
I also agree with AW1 Tim: there was 1 instructor in particular who I would *really* like to meet on my terms. I still haven’t figured out if he was the best instructor there, or just a huge, power-drunk asshole.
Humble,
I appreciated the training, but I had the same question about this one guy. He seemed to get a little too much pleasure out of the experiences he was giving us.
And mine was in Maine, also. Mud Season. Cold and Wet. At least it was too early for Black Flies, though…….
AW1Tim/
My God yes, the black flies, in the Great White Up and your neck of the woods especially–especially in the spring/summer–well, my God. But despite what the Alaskans and Canadians say, they are in bush-league territory when it comes to the mosquitoes and humongous flying cock-roaches in Louisiana……At least we’re #1 in something!
BTW, my wife says going a MONTH without eating just MIGHT get me back in uniform again…PS, seems there is always just “one” guy in every crowd, isn’t there?
Virgil,
I am given to understand that the mosquitoes down your way tend to swarm, and that the sound overhead is not unlike the waves of B-17′s headed across the channel to Germany.
In fact, rumours have it that some sportsmen are known to monitor guard frequencies to stay ahead of the beasts…
my SERE story. Guy bouncing me off the corregated wall in the interrogation hut was grooving on my head playing Inna-Godda-Davita on the wall. About the third trip “out”, I realized he was only 5’6″, and had to push “up” where he had his hands gripping my shirt — right about the pecs. So, got “over” him, went limp, and he struggled to stay upright. My reward? Trip about three feet to the right to the waterboard.
Then, the “set up” escape when I was a “gate guard” on a side entrance. Got me the best PBJ I ever had.
Was this in Warner Springs? We made the students work for the sandwiches. We could usually see the students trying to get out of the compound, but we had discretion on whether to let them get away with the escape. If they showed some creativity, we let them proceed. Otherwise,back to pounding the ground with rocks or moving dirt from one hole to another.
When I was a student, I managed to burrow under a wood pile next to the fence (how convenient) and sneak out. Damn, that sandwich and the water were awesome after days of starving. When I called down on the intercom from the shack, they came and got me and tossed me into one of the boxes for a while. I fell asleep and didn’t respond to the call for my number. Low and behold, the lid came up and the light did shine on me. A guy the size of Paul Bunyan lifted me straight out the box and tossed me across the room. IN essence, they didn’t want us to fall asleep and develop pneumonia.
That was one crazy damn place to be stationed.
Dangit, now I feel all left out ‘cuz I don’t have some cool SERE story to share…
Well, it’s not like I didn’t try. I had orders there as a young 2ndLt forward observer, but apparently our Bn XO thought that SERE training wasn’t worth my missing a few days of a Bn FIREX in 29 Palms, so my orders were canc’d. Later, when I was starting my terminal leave/househunting (about 65 days) I tried to convince our S-3 to give me Permissive TAD orders – I’d already cleared it with the schoolhouse (they were kinda surprised, but said “Come on down, we have room!”). Even though it wouldn’t have cost them a dime, he still wouldn’t do it – his sole argument being, “Why would you WANT to do something like that?!?” (My reply being, “I don’t know – I just do!” or something else as convincing.)
Now, I can’t imagine that there’s any convincing argument I can come up with as to why they should send a *chaplain* to the course – plus I’m not gettin’ any younger. Poop. And no, I still have no good reason as to why I’d want to voluntarily subject myself to something like this. Maybe it’s the same “let’s see how much you can take” gene that led me into the Corps in the first place…
Sere training at Bridgeport CA/Pickle Meadows in Feb 65. 5 days on snowshoes with no food, lots of blizzards, 10-20 feet of snow on the ground, and 20 below at night. Excellent preparation for hundreds of mission over triple canopy jungle in the friendly tropics.
“Maybe it’s just the same ‘how much can you take’ gene that led me into the Corps in the first place..”
After looking at your photo?
I’ll say…..Don’t look like a shrinking violet to me…
(Not to mention the motorcycle bit)
Just sayin’….
MAJ Harvey,
Don’t worry about it; I don’t have a cool SERE story either.
Ah, SERE School…a right of passage for those in the business of Naval Aviation. I still remember the lessons over 25 years after the fact. It is a great measuring stick to hold up against any other travails life may throw at you. They will all fail to measure up to the suck that is SERE.
For those of you who enjoy a podcast now and then, there is an episode (ep #5) of the Naval Air podcast (NavalAir.net) that talks about SERE.
Apologies to Lex for the plug….
Whidby Island with PBR 1-70, I evaded earned me a sandwich and a can o whupass.
Whidby Island with PBR 1-70, I evaded earned me a sandwich and a can o whupass.
Lex:
Don’t know if I ever told you that I grew up in Coronado, so a whole lot of my (and Tommy Kilcline’s) high school mates’ fathers were POW’s. I later served under RADM Stockdale and knew enough to sit and listen to his Flag Sec and him talk about the experience. It still didn’t really prepare me for the July ’76 class at Brunswick.
What do I tell people? “Well first they kill the Easter bunny in front of you, then chase your ass around the woods for a couple of days with guns. Then the fun really starts. Oh, and it’s a very effective diet: 16 pounds in four days!”
Best,
Comjam
Maybe I’m just getting a little old but I when I read that dispatch I was thinking, “this is a bit much.” I mean SERE (’89 in CA) was definitely the toughest school I went to and Lord knows I learned loads in that short time, but it wasn’t *that* bad. I’m thinking a boots-on-the-ground tour in Afghanistan or Iraq is considerably tougher. I’m greatful I didn’t have to do the latter to find out.
Brian
Does anyone remember the “Boots” Kipling Poem that blared on continuously for days and nights at SERE West in the 70′s? I went through that course in 77 and subsequently was an interrogator and Admin Officer at SERE East in Brunswick in 77 and 78. I can say that the individuals I worked with there were among the most professional, sagacious, well-read people I have ever met or worked with anywhere. Our admin Chief later became MCPON, as an indicator of who they selected to be instructors. In my career as a lawyer I continue to refer to S.I. Hayakawa’s “Language in Thought and Action” he gave me. What is unforgettable is the hard work and meticulous thought and preparation that went into making every minute and every little detail of the experience count to the betterment of every student, the incredible level of concern about the well being of each student during every hour of the course, where they were, what they were experiencing, how they were holding up, the level of continuous medical professional monitoring of both instructors and students to make sure things stayed linear as we took people to levels they did not know they had in them. Amazing training both as a student and on the other side of the table.
“Boots, boots, boots, boots….moving up and down again….”
Yes, they still freaking play that over and over again, amongst other things…
Warner Springs, Oct 77.
Best course I ever went to. Woulda turned in my wings if they wanted me to go back.
The callsign of one of the guys in my first squadron was Opie. Actually, it was OP – for One Punch. ‘Cause he knocked out one of the guards when they tried to waterboard him for the second time. Got to go through a second time.
Had another guy in the same squadron who also had to go back through because he broke his ankle falling into a deep ditch during a zero-dark-thirty escape attempt.
Really, really glad I only had to go through it once and never for real.
I’ve got stories about SERE but I would characterize none of them as ‘cool’. I recently travelled to a place requiring ISO.. and to go I had to take level 1 on line despite my Warner Springs of yore. Lot’s has changed- lot’s has remained the same.
I wonder why the training is “Conf” these days?
b2
Boots Boots Boots .. my head started throbbing immediately. A group, stripped naked, sprayed with hosed at midnight to encourage our cooperation. Took a week for the bruises to reduce (BIG mutha picked me up, held me at arm’s length, and tested the integrity of the wall construction w/my back). Then off to Alaska for the arctic course … cold doesn’t begin to describe THAT one. We flew regularly over the ice/snow, so that was useful.
At the USAF version, we had a former POW talk, either in person or on tape (if his business did not allow time that class). He was in a replica cell – you saw the strain in his face … a noise off-camera and he jumps … he was back there. We had one student break during an interrogation – started spouting classified mission info (the TRUTH about certain missions …
One class room presentation about code of conduct et al – the part about trust in the USG to make every effort … much of the class could not suppress a giggle/outright laugh. The vast majority of the class was great and useful; I carry that single questionable memory.
Concur it is one class not to repeat.
Still travel to places were ISO is required – that training was useful, but I hope never to use it.
She says she “had been crying and worrying about him all week”. Because he was in SERE training? Um, a wee bit dramatic I think. Must be a newly wed. She’d better toughen up quick as a military spouse.
Reading through posts above, maybe there was more going on in her life…I was crying through my husband’s SERE training too but it had to do with difficult family matters he left at home.
Liz, yes she was going through more: she found out she was pregnant the day after he left (this was after two miscarriages), and had a bit of a scare regarding the pregnancy while he was gone (and of course he was incommunicado).
She’s plenty tough–one of her miscarriages happened during his second deployment (found out the week after he deployed, lost the baby seven weeks later and had to go through the final part of the miscarriage at home rather than having a 2nd D&C–all this is on her blog).
And part of why she was so worried about him is that she knew it was raining and possibly snowing while he was in the last part of the course. She’s eminently practical and rational, but madly in love with her husband. I actually forwarded this link to Lex because I thought it was interesting to see SERE from the spouse’s point of view. She posted this on SpouseBUZZ, too, and got comments of others who had worried during SERE training.
And surely you can see the romance and love in someone who adores and deeply respects her husband who has been through two deployments with flying colors (one VERY active and dangerous), but is simply undone at the idea that he is unhappy or hurting in a military exercise.
I see her husband deployed to Iraq previously….and she was worried about SERE?
My husband didn’t share much, but he did have a couple of stories..he almost started a riot in the prison camp. They wanted him to sign something everyone else had signed and he ripped it up. They almost made him repeat it and that would have sucked.
One day they got a road-killed deer. It was a big score. There was a guy who spoke with a thick southern drawl and claimed to know everything about cooking deer. As per his instructions, they tied the thing up on a tree and lit a fire under it. Six hours later it was still raw, and then the rope caught fire and the entire carcass fell into the fire. They were stomping out flames on the thing and eventually decided to cut it up in pieces and cover them with foil to eat it. They told the guy he was a ‘fake hick’ after that. A hick should be able to cook a deer.
Edited to add: Heh, she does sound like quite a lady, FbL
Yes, I’m a little protective…
She’s a friend of mine.
Regarding your comment below (28), that jumped out a me, too–makes me think he did a very good job of evading (came back home sicker than she’d ever seen him).
He also lost over twenty pounds.
No SERE here, no sir! IIRC an old AF airman of the Vietnam conflict snarked “They say give ‘em your name, rank, and serial number. The airmen say, we’ll give name, rank, serial number, types and numbers of aircraft, armament, guard positions, pass phrases…anything, just don’t hurt me.”
I’ll have to bug my brother about his AF survival training. He’s never said much and only recently (as in the past couple of years) have I even found out anything about his SE Asia experience.
AF survival training out of Fairchild AFB near Spokane was interesting. The days spent out and around northeast Washington in the late spring weren’t so bad compared to those who had to come there in winter. I got so darn tired and filthy that after a while I just looked at the skeeters on my arms without even caring. I felt sorry for those Huey drivers who picked us up out of the boonies ’cause we surely must have stunk. The E&E stuff and POW camp were no fun but after that was the “Special Survival School” reserved only for those of us with…uh…certain clearances. Suffice it to say that they warned us afterward to never lose the graduation certificate in case personnel screwed up and wanted to send us through again. I still have it.
Jungle school at Clark in the PI was more fun, although I was lucky and was one of the last classes allowed to sleep in a hammock made from a parachute panel. After the end of the rainy season you had to sleep on the jungle floor with the rats running around at night. Yep, jungle school for this here RC-135 Rooskie linguist – go figure.
I graduated from SERE school in 1966. Dirt refers to me as old. Joined the Navy to stay out of Viet Nam didn’t know about PBRs. SERE was the best training I have ever had and I had a lot. As much as you want to think the stories are exagerated they weren’t. The class was classified when I went through so that is all I will say. God Bless all that serve.
Went through SERE C twice..once during Vietnam and then again as a Flight Engineer in VP..ended up with about 5 washers tied to my collar..Red,Green.Silver,black,blue..some people had yellow washers…never understood what they meant but I did receive a commendation after the training…never knew they gave those either.
Cant even find it now….but do remember most things…some things are blacked out…was punched in the face while my head was in the bag and against cinder block…still have the crooked tooth..never talked..escaped three times and sufferd like hell for it…broke through the back of a wood shitter and through the fence…burned down one of their gaurd shacks and split while they dealt with the fire…they were so pissed.
Beat the shit out of me after that …could not decide if they wanted to kill me or give me a medal…final gave me the medal..never said shit but one day after they all beat the crap out me..and said what the hell is it with you why dont you talk…I said this…My Mother Beat Me Harder…they went ape shit..cant remember what happend after that…just remember being debriefed several days later…what a freaking trip that was.
I am thinking of going through SERE training. It will most likely be in Washington state. If anyone has any advice on how to prepare, if they do parachute jumps, and if they still do waterboarding I would appreciate the help.
I think water boarding may have fallen out of favor, of late. But I can’t be sure, and the exact nature of the training is any case classified. Although, for what it’s worth, I wouldn’t do it again on a bet (although it was a great weight loss program) and wouldn’t have done it the first time unless they made me. Which they did.
That said, it was good training.
Oh c’mon, it was great fun. You got paid to go camping and kill bunnies.
I’d do it again. Esp after having done it all already. . .
I was wondering which mountain range we were on during survival school. does anyone know? It was back in 2001.
Brunswick, March 1983. My biggest mistake was taking offense at being called “enswine”, and after ‘correcting’ my captor received a great reward of using my body to try to break down a wall. Loved the ‘box’ though… I still get cramps in my calves just at the thought. Firehosed while naked standing in the snow – loved that too… not. And like everyone, made several copies of the graduation certificate and hoped to never, ever have to do it again, or for real. It was by far the best school the Navy ever ‘offered’ me, and I will never forget the experience. I made me a better man. Today, I think of those that go through it and only hope the training is as realistic as it was for me, and appropriate to today’s enemy – My son is there in Warner Springs right now as we speak – a new fledgling SeaHawk pilot enroute to his first fleet squadron, carrying on the tradition. I look at the calendar and the clock and know what he must be experiencing at day 11, right now, and am praying for him. Of course I know it’s training – but for me it at one point it became real, and I know he must be hurting, starving, and … resisting. God Bless our fighting men and women.
Speaking of boots boots boots, does anyone know what song it was that sounded like russian jazz (Scat). Just a woman make noises really but after little sleep I swear there were hidden messages!!