GrowRuck09 BackBlast Preface

The question was thrown out almost immediately after we finished the 14 ½ hour GRT – GrowRuck 09 – “When will we get to read the backblast….”

A backblast is defined in the F3 Lexicon as:

BACK BLAST: A written account of a Workout or Event that the Q Posts to a public forum. Abbr: BB.

I asked Froman if he would like to do the honors considering he had so many hours in making certain the weekend was a success. He was reluctant. The more we discussed the weekend with others in our pax over breakfast and heard the experiences – some similar and some vastly different – of all 3 platoons, the more we realized there is no way one man could do this justice.

Some reasons why this was too much to ask of 1 man:

  • 97 men showed up for the Growruck, mostly between 4:55pm – 5:30pm to make sure they were ready to go for the Cadres.
  • Speaking of Cadres – this was the first ever Growruck event that necessitated 3 Cadres b/c of the size
  • Each platoon had 32 or 33 pax – all from different backgrounds with respect to number of goruck events (if any at all), time in f3, physical or mental fitness/preparedness, etc.
  • 57 of the pax were from Toledo with the remaining 40 representing 10 different F3 cities (Cleveland, Columbus, Cincinnati, Louisville, Kalamazoo, Twin Cities, Dayton, Puget Sound, Pittsburgh, Fort Mill)

If one man was going to write this, the person that would make the most sense would be Froman as our Growruck 09 Q. F3 defines the Q of something as being responsible for the outcome. Froman took that to the extreme in a positive way in the 6+ months leading up to the weekend. It was his idea to approach Camp Miakonda and not a day went by that he wasn’t thinking of ways to ensure that we did all we could to have as many pax there to experience the weekend. Froman headlocked pax in Toledo as much as anyone, he followed up multiple times on waivers to GoRuck, payments to Iron Project and worked with the Toledo Growruck team (Klinger, Ticket, Stark, Pixar, Splinter, Kitty) to pull everything together flawlessly. The outcome of the weekend was an absolute success (100% finish rate). As the Q of the event Froman thought of everything and everyone. To all that earned their patch; know that he did more than Q, he set the bar for future Growruck Q’s.

It was decided that all 97 men need to be recognized on the BB and all three platoon’s stories of the night should be told. A HIM from each platoon was asked to put into words their experience as best they can recollect.

As you read the “chapters” to follow I would encourage you to get your pax in to rucking like Klinger did for us on May 15, 2017 (first Tuesday after Toledo’s launch). The 2nd F that is formed during a simple ruck in the gloom is unmatched. Doing a CSAUP like a Growruck will provide stories and lessons within your pax unlike any other event. The impact is difficult to explain to many, but it will be felt on an individual level as well as in the brotherhood of men that finish, and it will go far beyond F3. If you have the means to experience a Growruck – don’t overthink it (you will), don’t be afraid you can’t complete it (F3 men won’t let you quit), don’t make excuses (someone in your pax or f3nation will lend you a ruck and the rest is easy) – just HC to it. The fear of missing out is even stronger when the event is over.

Before jumping into the awesomeness (and bluntness) of these stories please know that we did not want to censor the thoughts, opinion and descriptions of the event too much. However, this isn’t something I would read to your young children without some editing of your own.

Enjoy the read and from all F3 Ohio and the Toledo pax Thank You.

Thank you to Dredd and OBT for the gift of F3, to the 115 that posted at Growschool, to our Cadres – Danny, Shredder and Mocha Mike and to the 97 that earned their patch and did not suffer from Tiny Heart Syndrome!

Live #EQV – To Be, Rather Than To Seem


Jared “Colonel” Helton

Nantan, F3Toledo

GrowRuck09 BackBlast Red Platoon

GORUCK Custom Tough 2621 (GrowRuck09)
April 28-29, 2018
Camp Miakonda, Toledo Ohio
Q: Cadre Danny, Cadre Shredder, Cadre Mocha Mike
PAX: [32] – Scrooge Mailman Danica Hacksaw Brita Colonel Mickey Chapo Rose Menace Patriot Casper Mayor Worm Balco Fiab Modell Sideshow Diablo MadCow Splinter Honeymoon Valdez Kitty Bluto Ollie Venom Wham Nice N Easy Methane Stamper
18:00, roll call commences, nerves echo through the forest, and the Cadre Danny, Cadre Shredder, and Cadre Mocha Mike introduce themselves as the owners of our pain for the next 14 hours. Administrative nuances take their course, the cadre’s attempt to shake up the brotherhood with a second squadron shake ‘n’ bake, and the fight to become the best versions of ourselves is underway.
Scrooge is appointed Platoon Leader [PL] he quickly attempts to appoint Colonel as his Platoon Sergeant [PS]; Cadre Danny gets a shit eatin’ grin and tells Colonel to fall back in line, Danny says he has heard all about the Colonel and his shenanigans. PL Scrooge selects Mailman as his PS. Cadre Danny gives Scrooge an order, extracts 3 men of our platoon wearing orange Rucksacks, and we run to the opposite end of Miakonda for some formation training. FIAB is up first to lead us in the “Platoon Attention”—“Platoon Left Face”—“ Platoon Extend Left, March”—…you get the idea, and if you don’t, neither did any of us. We went about attempting to follow orders and formation drills for 30 mins. We broke into 3 squadrons and were led in PT, squats and merkins. Cadre let the men know their squat was for shit, and joined in to demonstrate how a squat was done properly. Brief moment of relaxation while the a local boy scout troop rolled by; Cadre acted like a kidnapper talking to a cop with his victim in the trunk, all happy and nice, knowing he was about to get what he came for.
Scrooge led us back to the horseshoe formation and Shredder took over our destiny. Formation, directions, and leadership were the continued themes. Scrooge did the difficult job of instructing the men repeatedly to stand at attention—“Left Face”—“About Face”—“Present Arms”—“Order Arms”. We continued this at very point of the compass on Parade Field; lest we not forget the burpees because we could never get it right. Mickey and Diablo got a shot at leading the men in the respectful saluting of the American flag; under the Shredder Pressure, it was always F’d up. He dismissed us to Mocha Mike.
Mocha Mike quietly, and I mean quietly, instructed us in the art of moving as a unit through the battle field. Forming into Alpha and Bravo teams, each squadron was instructed on how to safely negotiate the field keeping our Leader and Sergeants safe. The inverted V [opposite of the inverted wang] formation was the expected mode of operation, never moving more than 3 men at a time, with the PL and PS always in the best position to control their elements. We moved gracefully through goose shit like an Armed Forces slip n slide, leaving no goose shit left behind. Mocha Mike graced the Red Platoon with making Venom a casualty not once but twice. All accounted for he was 280+ with the RuckSack, it was a RAK cleaning that up.
Formation and drilling came to a close, Red Platoon took solace in knowing the US Army spends 16 weeks to perfect the art of moving in unison. In order to not be in the negative, it was time to replenish our water bladder, throw down some chow, and take a piss. The men did a quick re-fit, and mentally prepared themselves as the dark of night set upon them. Mickey and Brita were hoping for the ladies of the night, but they never came.
Cadre Danny led us down the hill and around the pond to our first movement, with Scrooge still at the helm and Mailman covering our 6 we knew we were in good hands. Cadre drew a schematic of the fuselage we were required to replicate, in order to simulate the role of a special forces paratrooper. Schematic involved 4 large logs and 2 shorter logs, which would allow us make a jump door. Objective was relayed to PL and PS, who relayed the message to the 3 squadron leaders. Sitting in the distance was a pile of lumber, with logs 8’ long, having a diameter of 14” and must of weighed damn near 500 lbs. From there, the pressure got to our little buddy Scrooge, the objective was hard, fatigue was setting in on the men, and he had been in charge for a long period of time. In the words of GRT Cincy Cadre Garrett, we were AFU [all F’d up]. Communication was low to non-existent, directions were not clear and not being followed, men were taking the objective into their own hands, and Cadre Danny put an end to our shit show. Colonel and Brita managed to get a log off the pile, when Cadre Danny rudely interrupted our efforts and told us to set it down next to him. He spoke direct, “If the F’n log ain’t worth your time, than it damn sure ain’t worth mine, nice try”. We finally got 4 big logs to the DZ [drop zone] and built the fuselage. Colonel instructed several men on how to tie bull knot, and those men instructed the rest of the platoon. We used our carabiners to lock into a guy wire, from there we prepared to jump. And jump we did, right over to Mocha Mike.
The stars were out, adrenaline was flowing, and Mocha wanted to make sure we remembered which way was up. He did this through a 5 minute Ruck Press; at first, it was simply squats with an overhead press, then Mocha saw those trying to give up on themselves. Problem solved, Mocha demanded we hold our 40+ lb. rucks overhead, elbows locked for minutes on end, until everyone had their Ruck in the overhead position. It was a bitch. Then we repeated the battlefield goose poop slip n slide in the dark. Red Platoon took to the gloom moving gracefully with Splinter heading the PAX on the ground and Chapo helping the men not trip on their own elephant trunk. Teamwork, communication, trust, speed, and goose poop were the main takeaways. We moved forward, we moved backward, did an AAR [after action review], carried casualties, and listen to Mocha gives us some real-world stories from across the trenches.
On to Shredder, who earns every bit of his name, much to the PAX’s dismay Scrooge was still the PL. By this time Scrooge needed the rest of the Platoon to step up, but fatigue made that difficult. We were tasked with moving as a single unit down to the pond, one hand constantly in contact with the brother in front of you. Let’s just say we did not execute that to Shredder’s standards. Punishment – elephant walk [one hand through your legs to the PAX behind you and your other hand locked to the PAX in front of you resting gently next to their speed bag]. Mission – maintain the elephant walk down the path, up a hill, over a fence, back down the hill, and then back to the rendezvous location. With the high stress situation, low visibility, we chose the highest portion of the fence, not good. It was a scene out of deliverance, grown men were squealing like pigs, and in the near distance Shredder laughed uncontrollably. Rose was graced with Brita’s hand in places it should not be. WE wanted to break, to let go, to say F it…but did WE, hell no, we trudged on. Trudged on, right over to water filled culvert… “WE crawled through a river of shit and came out clean on the other side” quote from Red, not the Red Platoon Jacktard, Red from the Shawshank Redemption. One-by-one exiting the culvert, soaked from the waist down we went over to the chapel benches for a little over and under race. Scrooge instructed us to elephant walk to each squadrons respective set of bench’s and then crawl under and then over the following bench, and repeat to the end…must have been 25 benches. Chapo punked us by not being able to get his fat ass under the first bench, Mickey inspired Casper to finish as Shredder, shredded them with his verbal taunts, Mickey loved it, Casper not so much. The 2 losing squadrons were forced to do 3 different PT exercises by the winning squadron. To show the leadership among F3, although not tasked with completing the PT themselves, the winning team not only lead but participated in the PT pain. Get afta it baby!
The night was fully upon the men, sleep deprivation was in full throttle, and the fear of the unknown [not really true, most of us knew we were about to carry heavy ass logs a long way]. We did just that. Much to Scrooges relief, his leadership was complete, a quick AAR was issued. Scrooge did a kick ass job, was PL by far the longest, and forced to lead first in a difficult situation. Respect Scrooge.
MadCow from Louisville was next on the burner as PL and chose the most decorated Toledo PAX, Splinter as his PS. Did a quick refit, topped off the canteen, sucked on some GU, hit the latrine, and mentally prepared for the pain to get real. We reformed our squadrons by height, looked at a SOB of a log, and picked up and started marching. Objective was to move the log, team weight, coupons, water jug, inventoried kit bag to McCord Junior High. Half way through the blue platoon [notice the lower case] decided they couldn’t hack it on their own so we sacrificed 2 of our own to help hold their pannies up. Mumble chatter was high as we rucked the streets to our destination. Stress and pressure were mounting like a tiger on a puma, as Mickey and Brita sat ringside, shit was about to blow. Chapo threatened to kill the next person that stepped on his shoe, ankles were rolling left and right, and the pain was constant and fierce. What seemed like hours [and maybe it was] finally brought 32 warriors to the back of a dimly lit parking lot, at the back end of a school. Something seemed wrong, as if the PAX were in for in for an ass-kicker sandwich, hold the kicker please.
Cadre Danny stated in the beginning that he had no interest in how teams or individuals preformed when they were fresh…that a team and individual could only be measured when the suck had been on them for hours, and the brokenness of the men shined bright like Methane from earth’s crust. It was time for the mid-event PT test—find a partner. PT test involved max burpees [Dredd Style Burpee] in 5 minutes—timed event: duration to complete 50 flutter kicks and 50 big boy sit-ups—culminating with timed 5-point suicide dash. Hacksaw, from the Red Platoon of course, smoked the Burpee challenge with 74, Respect. Next up, take a piss, refit, and then Ruck up, for what Red Platoon thought would possibly be the final movement.
MadCow did an awesome job with Splinter, but their tour was complete, and MadCow selected The Colonel to replace him as PL. The next gesture shocked many of the Red Platoon, but it shocked no one more than Mickey. Colonel bellowed from the depths of his sphincter that Brita would be his non-carrying PS. As Brita made his way through the men of Red Platoon, Mickey was furious, knowing 2 strong men were now going to be tasked with nothing more than watching their brothers carry heavy shit. Shakira bent the Red Team over by sneaking out without taking their portion of the new and dreadful coupons. Time to bitch and moan, not an option, Colonel and Brita sacrificed 2 more men to go help blue platoon carry their crap again, told the men we had more coupons, and still had to pick up that log [which it turns out Tots and his team showed how sackless they were through their betrayal and stealing the log we were assigned] it mattered not to the Red Platoon, we had a mission to conquer. God Bless Shredder, unbeknownst to the PL, PS, and Platoon we were able to ditch the log after just a ¼ mile.
Shredder was in the ear of Colonel and Brita, demanding we keep the PAX with in an arm’s length. The variances in coupons made this difficult. First Checkpoint, Lourdes College. The PAX were positioned in 3 groups: 8 men on the flag, the team weight, and the ammo case, 16 men on the (3) 80 lb sandbags held by Bangalore poles, and 6 men bringing up the rear with the kit bag and water jug. The sun was threatening to break the eastern horizon, but the “Grey” was beginning to show its true colors first. Making the Lourdes Checkpoint by seconds, the men marched East, all with the constant threat from Shredder to tighten up the PAX, followed constantly by, “Trust me, you do not want to find out what happens if you don’t tighten your men up, and God forbid you miss these Checkpoints…
As we marched East, trying to keep everyone’s head in the game, we were distracted by the incessant ignorance being spewed from a college dorm balcony…
“What the F ya’ll protesting, what the F ya’ll doing out there”
Colonel and Brita spoke direct for the men, instructed them to look forward and remain “mission present”, deny the distraction, press on. The last 500 yards were completed under the lash of double-time. Making the Checkpoint as Shredder taunted the men by counting down, “5,4,3,2…you guys are so F’n lucky, you better pick up the pace”. Pick up the pace, the Red Platoon was unable to do that task, Brita knew the men were in need of help, especially when Mickey, Chapo, Kitty, Modell, Diablo, and Hacksaw all demanded they needed a break on the ammo. Shredder was done with the excuses, first one casualty, followed by another pitiful 100 yards. Shredder demanded another casualty. Stumbling forward in chaos, Chapo rolling his other ankle, leadership was failing, Shredder demanded a 3rd casualty. Until enough was enough, Shredder had enough… “Drop the coupons, Rucksacks on, give me 40 burpees, and they better be F’n clean.” 10 burpees led in cadence by Colonel, then 10 by Brita, until the 40 punishment burpees were complete. Oddly Honeymoon forgot to put his Ruck back on, HATE! Sideshow, may have forgot his Ruck during the burpees as well, but when you are completing a Tough at 50+ years old, does it really matter, especially when you got a transmission in your Ruck anyways.
Colonel and Brita were getting the point from shredder, don’t get distracted with external things beyond your control, lead your men, be positive, do what it takes to complete your objective, keep their head up. Somehow the 40 burpees re-charged the men, reminded them to think of each other not themselves. Ollie was assigned 4 men, as was Mickey, and Worm; the leadership needed wings if WE were going to succeed. Fiab did well in the back to keep morale high as Valdez, Balco, Nice N Easy, Wham, and Casper did their best to push forward. John Henry and Stamper could be seen jumping on coupons whenever relief was needed. Menace and Patriot were sticking together to hump the 80 lb sandbags. Danica was an absolute beast and his leadership and willingness paid dividends in the end. Bluto made it a point to shoulder more than his load, his effort on the log and coupons was dynamic, that big Navy Popeye loving SOB pulled his load and then others when they could not or would not. The Red Platoon marched the last mile flawlessly and double-timed our efforts into Parade field. WE moved into formation with a quick AAR. Chapo—“I’m sorry, because we sucked, we were all F’d up [AFU]”. Accountability was seized, and the movement was a huge success.
God had shown the sunlight of the spirit and some cleanup was necessary…move the fuselage [heavy ass logs and rocks back to their original destination]. The PAX were then moved into 3 ranks led by shredder in cadence to the chapel. “When I say GO, you say RUCK…When I say GOOD, you say LIVING”. The PAX knew they had won (or so the Platoons thought) you could hear their victory in GO—RUCK and GOOD—LIVING as they battle cry bellowed through the fog of Camp Miakonda.
Once all 97 men were at the chapel, the Cadres handed it over to Dredd for a quick speech on Faith. The faith that Dredd and OBT had to get F3 off the ground, the faith to bring F3 to the North, and the power of that Faith. Schotty from Cleveland spoke of this Faith and the power of that faith that has continued through other cities in Ohio, but know this, GROWRUCK 09 was in Toledo for a reason.
The 97 men were given back to the Cadres for one last ass-kicker. Cadre Danny reminded the Red platoon that we owed him for the failed movement building the fuselage. Did a quick AAR to remind us why we were in the shithouse, while dismissing the blue and white platoons to buddy carry themselves back around the mile-long path back to parade field. Every member of the Red Platoon was shamed into carrying one Ruck from Blue and one Ruck from White, plus their own Ruck around that same mile trail back to parade field. The pain was high, shoulders and traps were destroyed, the path seemed to go on forever…until…
Until the men in F3 began to come back for the 6, as we always do. Blue and White began to come relieve the Red Platoon of the 3 Rucksacks draped miserably across their beaten bodies. Men still struggling to buddy carry were given an extra set of hands, given encouragement, given faith to finish. And Finish we ALL F’n did. 97 men stepped off at 18:00 Saturday evening and 97 men earned their patch at 08:00 Sunday in the gloom.
Two monumental moments occurred shortly after Cadre Danny said, “You did it, GROWRUCK 09 is complete with all 97 men accounted for”.
First—Cadre Danny stated that someone asked in the beginning of the event, what is the difference between a GORUCK TOUGH and a GROWRUCK”…he said, “This, this is the difference”. Meaning that we had a 100% completion, that when they run these events open to the public the tiny hearted fall off, they quit. Cadre Danny stated, “He has never seen an F3 man quit an event!” High Impact Men, flat out.
Second—Mocha Mike reminded us to reflect on what happened as the young lady shouted obscenities and demanded we state why we were protesting. He reminded us of the present culture, and asked the men, “Since when did men carrying the American Flag become a symbol of protest?” “We need to change that men, we have the power to change that.”

“Schooling, Apprenticeship, Opportunity, & Failure are the steps to forming good leaders.” Dredd

GrowRuck09 BackBlast White Platoon

Cadre: Cadre Danny, Cadre Mocha, Cadre Shredder
Platoon (32): Mariah, Jumper, Tony Paco, Van Damme, Bo Schembechler, Bourbon, Rooster, Pack Rat, Woodstock, Dredd, Froman, Captain Insane-o, Tots, Doc, Sunshine, Cobra, Mater, Star Child, Stark, Zartan, Stalker, Iverson, Klinger, Wake, Spider Monkey, French Lick, Bone Daddy, Keaton, Schotty, Magoo, Flo, Cousteau
When I received Froman’s message asking me to write the Backblast for the White Platoon, I was honored, flattered and worried. How could I capture the events of the GORUCK 2621, accurately reflect the ability of our platoon and balance what I should tell and what I could tell? Then, it hit me.
The White Platoon did everything it could possibly do to emulate the personalities, skills and teachings of the Cadre, which led to our successful completion of GORUCK Custom Tough 2621.
The Cadre
First and foremost, let’s recognize that these men are American Heroes. They all served our country honorably. They ensured that we have the freedom to Embrace the Suck. We owe them all. If any of the Cadre read this, please accept my sincere “Thank You” on behalf of all participants, including the White Platoon, for your service and sacrifice.
Here, in a few short sentences/phrases, are my descriptions of these heroes. I hope I’ve done them justice. If not, send all complaints here
Cadre Danny (F3 Linus): Cool, calm, almost effervescent in his delivery until he’s not; and then heavy like a dark star about to go nova. The maestro five steps ahead, wielding his baton in front of this orchestra of men to direct our movements and evolutions. Always teaching and learning, but never wavering from his stated intention that we would also learn, either by taking his direction or feeling his wrath.
Cadre Mocha (F3 Tin Man): Fast-twitch speed, violence and strength. Half-man, half-machine, with a smile that could be both malevolent and benevolent, only to be discerned by his next uttered words. Focused on our improvement through physical action and forethought of movement. The Tin Man in name only. Stronger than steel.
Cadre Shredder (F3 Jimmy Walker): A quiet mountain of TNT, stable until lit. But once lit, utterly destructive. Focused and determined after that concussive force to rebuild each man stronger, more aware, better. When ablaze, still controlled. Straddling the lines between Didactic and Socratic teaching to impart lessons that will remain seared.
The White Platoon
The White Platoon came together by complete happenstance. Well, sort of. It was a simple shift of lines, but hey. You’ll find that I have a tendency to exaggerate. I will do so often in this Backblast and it will be noted (it won’t). For clarity, while you may find my descriptions of the Cadre too fanciful, they are not exaggerations. And you can suck it if you don’t like them. Froman gave me carte blanche.
You’ll forgive my lapsing brain, which has been forever altered as a result of the events I’m recording here, but I believe the second row of each platoon (soon to be known as Squad 2) shifted. For the sake of reference, YHC (CI) was in this row and shifted from what I believe was the Blue Platoon to the White Platooon. Synchronicity ain’t just a terrible movie, my friends. The White Platoon assembled like the Avengers.
I looked to my left and right. Iverson and I swapped body weights, “175? Aye. I’ll carry you.” How’d that work out, brother? I looked behind me. Some familiar faces. Froman, Zartan, Star Child. I saw Stalker. Van Damme looked back at me and told me to shut up. Was I talking? Dredd was down the line in Squad 2, too. I turned to meet Cobra. Strong to quite strong. Mariah shook my hand. I casually observed that we too shared similar characteristics: handsome, a muscular 225, tall (this is all bullshit). I saw Spider Monkey in Squad 3. I was pretty sure he could ruck me with my ruck and his ruck, plus Zartan. Wait, is that Bo? Yep, Bo Schembechler from Columbus, a guy who’s come DR to Louisville many times was in Squad 2. This was shaping up alright. Little did I know. This was going to be more than alright.
For this backblast, I’m not going to give you all the details, all the evolutions, all the movements. And I’ll apologize in advance that some of this will be in the first person. This isn’t about me, but since I can’t inhabit others brains (yet), I can only write my observations.
Part 1
I submit that part of the challenge of an event like a Tough is the unknown. And then, once you’re in the known – i.e., the evolution or movement – risking wanting to move out to the next unknown, which ultimately is only worse and more physically or mentally degrading. So the unknown and being present. Those are big challenges. The mental side.
Then, there’s the fact that you have somewhere around 46lbs of gear strapped to you at all times, sometimes increased by 100s of pounds more over time, as your body and mind continue to degrade. That, too, is a challenge.
But getting over yourself. Maybe that’s the biggest challenge. And that’s what our Cadre worked on from jump street.
Now to say we didn’t ruck for the beginning of the event is inaccurate. We didn’t ruck in the traditional sense of straightline movement, but we rucked alright. We moved out and around the Camp in various formations for hours, likely covering miles of rucked terrain. We drilled, received instruction, gave instruction, led, followed, learned. I’m sure some of us questioned this at the time. Why are we doing this? This isn’t a welcome party, is it? I don’t need to know these commands, do I? This isn’t what I signed up for. What’s the purpose of this?
Well, kids, ya did, and it had a purpose. First, let me admit that some of these thoughts raced through my head. It’s cool, I don’t mind admitting it. I’ll also admit that I felt like dropping at one point; I’ll bet a lot of you did, too. Two words: Elephant walk. Right, I feel you. But I digress. The purpose of the drilling, the movements, the teaching was to keep us safe. There were 97 of us idiots, all pumped up to show how badass we were, ready to tear through walls. Do you think that had we not done that drilling and learning we’d have been able to leave the camp and safely and effective do what we did from 0145 on? I’ll wait for your answer. No argument. I didn’t think so.
Then, the sun went down.
While we were safe in the global sense of the word, we were not safe. Read on.
Part 2
I give a lot of credit to the Platoon Leaders and Sergeants. This was a hard job. First, you had to remember everything exactly as the Cadre told you, inform the Platoon, hope they listened and move. Also, you couldn’t really jump in to the Suck. Often you were not doing some of the hellishly awful (yet, surprisingly now rewarding) crap we had to do. I can relate to this, having been a casualty for a period of our return ruck to the camp around 0530 Sunday morning. I couldn’t carry anything. Hell, I didn’t have a ruck on. I literally was dead weight. So I feel you guys.
But don’t fret.
You were anything but dead weight. All of our Platoon Leaders – Stark (dick punch candidate), Wake, Froman, Bo, Rooster, Klinger (if I left anyone out it’s not on purpose; I promise you did a great job. To be honest, if I forgot you, it’s likely you f’d up less) – did an incredible job. Without your clear direction and leadership, we likely would have had to endure more/worse than what we did (see, e.g., the Red Platoon).
So, once the sun set, it got real(er). Aside from the plummeting temperatures (from a cool 50* to start to the ultimate low of 31*, with humidity and windchill that caused guys and steel poles to freeze), the dark seemed to creep into the minds of the Cadre.
Again, I won’t get into specifics. Some things are meant only for those that experience it, but I’ll offer the following:
  • Van Damme (and maybe Bone Daddy) fully submerged into the lake out of the discharge tunnel.
  • Mariah has an incredibly soft hand. Oh, and Keaton has a wide undercarriage (total compliment).
  • It’s heartening to hear grown men whimper, especially when it’s louder than your whimper. (Note to self: practice crying in silence).
  • It’s a good idea to take off your gloves before going into water because (at least for me) wet, frozen hands suck.
  • If someone gets stuck under a bench, kicking them in the ribs will not get them unstuck faster. You’re likely to hurt your toe and, possibly, their ribs.
  • Body heat is good heat.
  • It’s totally OK to grab a small rock if the Cadre tells you only to grab a rock. Remember the standard is the standard. Anything more is you dick measuring.
  • Cadre don’t give a shit about your new hat and headlamp.
  • Goose poop is irrelevant at some point.
  • Many of us like to make fake gun sounds at any opportunity.
  • Oh, and while we’re talking about imaginations, pine cones make for good grenades.
  • Children are a threat, especially when they make contact right.
  • Not only did Red Platoon get the shit kicked out of them, most of them are also down one carabineer
  • No one is supposed to be in the water at the Camp because it’s horribly polluted.
  • The logs weighed between 2000 and 1 million pounds.
  • Dredd doesn’t need water.
  • Unlike some of those “ladies” on the Bachelor, we were all out there for the right reasons. It was good to have an index card as a reminder.
At this point, it’s only 0145. I hated this, but I had a pretty good running clock of the time in my head. To be honest, this made the first “two parts” long. Basically, I kept doing math in my head. “If we go 16 hours, we have this long left” blah blah.
The good thing is, though, the Cadre had a way to fix all that. Silver lining machine had to be in full effect.
Part 3
I really enjoyed getting to know Mariah and Packo. They are both experienced GRTs. They helped us all with tips and planning. We were run buddies when we went back to retrieve the two 30lb and the one 34lb team weights left at the camp (we owe you Bo ;^). Oh, and Stark, remind me to punch you in the junk when I see you next. Twenty-five pounds was the standard. I will forever know what 34lbs feels like in my hands.
But back to Packo and Mariah. I recall both of them saying, almost wishfully, “There’s been no Welcome Party.” What I guess they didn’t realize is that we’d have to ruck to the Welcome Party with eleventy million pounds of tree shouldered by the Platoon. And the Welcome Party would be more like the third Thanksgiving of the day at your least-favorite Aunt’s house where all they serve is ham because your f’ing uncle is somehow allergic to poultry, oh and they cooked everything while smoking Kools in an oven that only partially heats. In other words, an awful party.
But we made it. They eventually got their wish! Thanks to great leadership from the PL and Sergeant and each squad, along with constant deliberate movement, help, checking and support. All the drilling, the movement, the teaching was the oil that kept the White Platoon machine moving forward. It was pretty awesome. Hell, in the Facebook video that Cadre Shredder posted of us moving that wood, he said just that.
Then, we got to the school. I’m just going to say it. We crushed the PT test. I really don’t care if you did 20 or 90 burpees, or finished your ab set in 2 minutes or 10, or if you even saw the blink that was Iverson (who Larry Birded the shuttle run), the fact that YOU did what you did was great. And guess what? If you don’t feel like you did, Cadre Danny was right: NOW YOU KNOW WHAT TO WORK ON. I have to give a shout out to French Lick here. He pushed me through the PT test, and he crushed it himself. He’s a big reason I got four more burpees than Colonel. Bahahhahahahahhahhahahaaaaaaaa. And Jumper and Iverson, studs, you ensured I got a time 2 seconds faster than Colonel in the shuttle run. Bahahhahahahhahahahaaaaaa! All that said, I’m pretty sure Tots was the all-around PT Larry Bird, or maybe not.
Regardless, he’s a champ in my mind.
Congrats, your prize is…. MORE PAIN!
Part 4
I’m going to tell you all a secret. I hope Rooster doesn’t mind. He pulled off another miracle in Toledo. He pawned that Satan’s cock of a log we carried down on the Red Team for its eventual ride home. It was really only fair that we shared the love. I mean when you’re setting the standard, it’s good to let others try, too. Amirite?
I can’t recall it all, but let me know if you agree:
  • Concrete filled ammo boxes are pure evil.
  • Steel poles freeze quickly.
  • That water bottle. Woof.
  • Stalker and Spider Monkey are both strong.
  • If they’re a casualty, why can’t we just drag them and burn their ruck?
  • Bourbon doesn’t stop smiling, even when he’s dizzy.
  • We weren’t protesting anything, but I’m pretty sure we were all internally protesting the seemingly incredible strength of that balcony railing. I kid, I kid. Dredd laughing at that made it all OK.
  • Van Damme may have a necrophilia foot fetish. He couldn’t stop grabbing casualty feet.
  • The feeling when the sun comes up is indescribable.
All Ayes! I know, right?
Part 5
I don’t exaggerate when I say the sun coming up was energizing. The collective feeling was, we made it, but we also knew at this point to remain in the moment. We were not done.
Raise your hand if you think you’d be fired if you had to run a Guess Your Weight booth at the carnival? I would. I know I would. I mean I had Iverson and Jumper picked out to carry. Didn’t happen. Pretty sure Cadre Danny heard us plotting and saved the last evolution just for us. Or not. And while I love ya Fonzie, that trip to Chi-town and all those meals out. Double woof.
It was like the finish line at the goofball Olympics seeing the White Platoon file into the field after the buddy carry around the lake. Smiles, hands up, guy on guy contact. But then we saw the first faces of the Red Platoon trickling in…carrying all the rucks, sometimes 3 and 4. White and Blue Platoons, together, ran back into the Suck to pick up the six and bring the rucks to the finish, so we could all finish together as a Team. Not Red, White or Blue, but F3. One Nation.
We finished as a unit. Red, White and Blue. Strong to quite strong.
Post Script
The White Platoon came together quickly. Often through gallows humor, we stayed cool like Cadre Danny. Our leaders focused us not just on what we were doing, but our objective and how to achieve it. While nowhere near five steps, we started to plan ahead to minimize adversity. We went heavy and hard.
But we were quick, strong and secure in our action. Deliberate, sometimes funny, sometimes wickedly serious. Kind of like Cadre Mocha.
And when required, we’d explode with action. Moving men and coupons with speed and force to our end point. Calm, yet powerful. In the mold of Cadre Shredder.
Of course, we’re not these men. We don’t even fall in the same class. But, we’re better for having tried to emulate them for those 14 hours, and will remain better each day as we strive to follow their example.

CI out.

GrowRuck09 BackBlast Blue Platoon

Q – Cadre Danny, Cadre Mocha Mike, Cadre Shredder

PAX – Trinity, Mother Rucker, Pixar, Gap, Jimmy Dean, Tupac, Shakira, Buttermaker, Gecko, Nails, Sipe, Mercy, Fonzie, Solid State, Moosejaw, Haskell, Cogsworth, Moon River, Dusty, Matlock, Dauber, Mr. Belding, Jennay, Ticket, Brute, Bambi, Boulder,  Ping, Dark Helmet, Stardust, Honey Bear, Sideshow, Oscar Meyer, Trigger 33

Full Disclosure – The delay for this backblast lies directly with me. When Froman asked me to write this I decided that since I couldn’t write like a real writer I would act like one. So I blew my advance on booze and the ladies of the night that Brita and Mickey were looking for and I woke up a few days later in a tub of ice missing a kidney. In addition, greatness cannot be rushed and in my case neither can mediocrity.  I hope I did the night justice, but it would be impossible to capture it all. I apologize ahead of time for any mixing up of names, events. Etc. Remember I am not a professional and you are here of your own accord.. So with that let us begin.

As the Cadre called off roll and completed the TPS report portion of the GrowRuck I was a knot of worry and doubt – I had slept about 5 hrs total in the last few nights, felt I had nothing in the tank, and knew my electrolyte supply was inadequate. I then caught a glance of El Chapo (Toledo) across the parade ground. He completed the CincyTough on no sleep the previous night, 2 Speedway hot dogs, a Mountain Dew slush, and maybe the nation’s shittiest Ruck this side of Oscar Meyer (foreshadowing). Inspired by Chap and the PAX surrounding me I decided to stick it out not go hang with the Cub Scouts.

PART 1 – The Making of  Blue Platoon. Looking for a PL, Shredder surveyed this motley crue with a gaze that could turn cheese back into milk. Was it the rugged good looks or the green hat that caused him to choose Trinity? I think it was the hat (Pix might beg to differ). There was a collective sigh of relief as 32 men thought  “Glad I am not that Fing guy” to themselves. GRT vet MotherRucker was tasked as our PS. Under the guidance of Shredder , These two men, along with squad leaders Gap, Belding, and Nails, would turn these 33 Left feet into a well-oiled machine and by well oiled machine I mean a 1984 Dodge Omni.

Our first few attempts to form up on Shredder were about as successful as Belding’s breakdancing career. Some PT ensued and we struggled to find a cadence that would work for our smurfjacks. Shredder and Trinity had some quick heart to heart conversations and with the advice of Army vet Haskell (Cleveland) “that it all starts with Gap” was key (although admitting that out loud would add to Gap’s already legendary ego).  Soon we were under the flagpole where the “About Face” threw our PL Trinity and most of our platoon for a loop (apparently left and right are not that important with computers). In fairness to Trinity, the 32 men he was leading again collectively thought “Glad I am not that Fing guy.” As we prepared for the Cadre change, I thought to myself when Shredder isn’t running GRTs does he just sit at the top of a Himalayan Peak waiting to impart wisdom on Buddhist Monks?

After a fake handoff to Cadre Danny, Blue Platoon was handed over to Mocha Mike. Mocha Mike  with calm, muted tones explained the inverted wedge movement and other squad movements. I was fortunate to miss the goose shit, many of my platoon were not so lucky.

Finally, we were in the capable hands of Cadre Danny. While he briefed the Orange Ruckers on the next task, the rest of the platoon moseyed over the bridge and broke into squads.  The gods smiled on us as the sun went down because while Cadre Danny had business to attend we flailed through our close quarters exercise drill. I was expecting a smokeshow but Cadre Danny surprised us all when we were ordered back to the Parade Ground for the next rotation.  

Part II – Full Metal Suckage

As darkness engulfed Miakonda,Blue Platoon did a quick refit. The air was electric with tension as we wondered what was in store for us. With Cadre Shredder again at the helm we made our way to the bottom of SuckBalls Hill. We locked arms with two other PAX ( I flanked Haskell and his right was covered by Ping) and the lunge walk up SuckBalls Hill began. The platoon was a cacophony of agony, urging, and bitching as we struggled up SuckBalls Hill. Negotiating the fence proved problematic and the walk down the stone steps was no picnic.  We raced back to Shredder and I believe we did a repeato. My memory is a little fuzzy at this point. What is crystal clear is upon our return, and after brief pleasantries with Trinity, Shredder deadpanned the phrase “30 burpees”. Apparently we were 6 minutes late and the burpees were the toll to be paid. We found the soggiest piece of ground and the misery commenced. Every F3 region has those PAX that love burpees ( I am looking at you Perrysburg). I am not one of those guys. Suffering through the single digits the Q word kept popping into my head (not quiche or queef BTW). Then I saw Gap ahead of me doing burpees with 1 and ½ arms, heard MotherRucker say “You did this to you”, gathered strength from the shared suffering and slipslided to 30. After a brief respite the elephant walk began and Blue Platoon would soon wish we were in the middle of those burpees.

Decisions have to be made during an elephant walk. Do you want the man in front of you to rest his fruit basket on your forearm or elbow? Do you split his Gu sac down the middle? Or go two balls right or left? Forehead or neck deep during the rectal exam? Each man had to answer these questions for himself. It was slow going as Blue trudged up SuckBalls Hill for a third time. The fence again proved a worthy obstacle both on the way up and the way back. When Shredder told us to stop I was sure round 2 of the Smokeshow was upon us. Instead, with the same tone he used to announce the 30 burpees we were told how well we communicated up and down the line.  I bet Shredder is a helluva poker player. Before heading back to the parade ground. Shredder decided to cool off Blue Platoon with a refreshing crawl through a culvert. As the end was reached no one was able to land the Triple Lindy on the dismount, and most members of BP got good and soggy.

Shredder was not out of surprises.  He allowed each member of Blue Platoon to take a souvenir back to the parade ground – a rock of their choice- #winning.  As we trekked back, I thought BP had been thrown a decent amount a shit and we had hung together pretty well. The rocks were used to make structures that made the Great Pyramid at Giza pale in comparison. We were given about 5 minutes to piss and grab some grub. The spectre of Cadre Garrett from the GRT in Cincy hung over many in Blue PLatoon as we did not ground our rucks for fear  of causing a smokeshow. As I saw members of BP sharing food, grabbing headlamps and gloves for each other I thought of Manager Lou Brown ‘s quote from Major League “starting to come together Pepper, they’re starting to come together!”

Side Note – Dark Helmet washed his hands so thoroughly after our time with Shredder I wondered if he wasn’t kidding about the rectal exam he gave during the Elephant Walk

Part III – Napoleon Dynamite Complex

Cadre Danny led us on our next exercise to gather some sticks and build a fuselage so we could simulate a static line jump. He made a pretty cool map, he showed us how to get into security position (like a football). He was super patient. IMO this was the nadir for BP.  We just kind of kept f’ing things up. Cadre Danny would give advice and we would talk instead of listen (again super patient), We kept forgetting security positions; the logs were troublesome. We were split into groups by height and for some reason the shorter members of BP took on the John Holmes of logs. It was long and it was girthy.  I believe each member who was humping the John Holmes log is now 2-3 inches shorter then when they began. The tall guys saw that struggle and said let’s risk serious injury and climb to the top of the log pile and find a more svelte log. We were acting like somebody smashed our tots. Somehow the logs made it up there. Cadre Danny showed us the correct way to lift and drop logs – that would soon come in handy.  

Part IV – Night Moves

Before it was time to test our grasp of Mocha Mike’s earlier squad and fire team movements, we rotated into new leadership positions. Trinity passed the PL mantle over to me, Honey Bear took over for Mother Rucker as our PS . Mercy, Jimmy Dean, and Haskell were our new squad leaders. Looking back, I believe Trinity and his crew did a bang up job. They were given 5 or 6 different objectives to get the platoon to  meet. We were in charge of getting two logs from point A to point B. They executed the Triple Lindy; we just had to land a cannonball.

We bombed the first couple of questions of Mocha Mike’s test – the switching of platoon positions may have been the root of this or poor leadership by yours truly – take your pick.   Regardless, a series of overhead presses and butterfly kicks seemed to whip us into shape. Mocha Mike’s request to stop with the “female noises” during our PT ordeal drew a silent chuckle from many and that phrase was bantered about for the duration of the GRT.  

Our boys up north from Kalamazoo might want to rename Ping – Lone Wolf McQuade. He may have seen Rambo too many times. He kept rushing into the fray solo, leaving the safety of his fire squad. First Squad seemed to make the most casualties (probably due to their proximity to Mocha Mike). As we dragged casualties back (AFTER completing our objective )  Seger’s “Night Moves” popped into my head except instead of “could’ve used a few pounds, we could’ve lost a few pounds.”

Maybe it was Mocha Mike’s chill demeanor and his heartfelt desire to connect this exercise to  our real world, maybe it was the quiet, star-filled night, maybe it was how fluid our fire teams moved across the “battlefield”, maybe it was how Pixar and Brute kept taking one more turn on our casualty even when they were gassed], maybe it was all those things that made it one of my favorite parts of the GRT.

Part V – The Quiet Storm

Mocha led us to the amphitheater, where white and red platoon were already enjoying a bit of R & R. Oscar Meyer, who had already achieved legendary status by signing up for the GRT Friday night (surely no libations were involved), was thinking about packing it in. His Hello Kitty backpack was in tatters despite numerous operations involving duct tape and bungies and the brains of Gecko, etc. Boulder offered up that he had an extra ruck in his car. After Cadre Dannygave the go-ahead Boulder and Oscar Meyer double-timed it to the parking lot. It wouldn’t be the last time members of Blue Platoon would rally around each other.

The next exercise was a favorite of many members of BP  – the sharing of the 6 word sentence. I don’t remember his name – but his Irish brogue, his story of waking up in the hospital and his “will I be able to play the piano?”  punchline set the tone – powerful and personal. Cadre Danny gave us a brief scolding for a lack of reverence and a firm reminder of what was coming down the pike.He reminded me of Kurt Russell in Tombstone “tell them the Cadres are coming and they are bringing Hell with them them!”  Cadre Danny’s message was clear – we had received a gift, take Fing advantage of it dipshit(s)!

Set straight, many members of BP shared their sentences and their stories. The other platoons had moved out and as PL I was nervous we were behind. Cadre Danny gave me a simple look that said “chill, we are no hurry”.  All the shares were powerful but Mercy’s really hit home for me. As a teacher for over 20 years I have seen the absence of a male role model as the big problem in so many kids’ lives. That he is stepping up to fill that void is impressive.  Present is more important than perfect. We were cold and tired but energized as we headed back towards the parade ground.

Part VI – MOLL

As we re-fit and prepared to move out, Mother Rucker looked like Lloyd from “Dumb and Dumber” after his moped ride – he was pale (about 3 shades away from undead ) and shivering . Suddenly the entire Blue Platoon created a BOMR in an attempt to get him warm again. Thankfully there was no Barry White music playing…that would have been awkward. Cadre Danny gave very specific orders: make sure your guys re-water, grab a flag and TWO logs. If I was a millenial, I may have asked “are the other platoons also carrying two logs?” Instead I decided to STFU. Cadre Danny must have noticed the Hoss-like status of Blue Platoon ( I mean we had a dude who wore a short sleeve the ENTIRE GRT – he’s from F3 Twin Cities and his new F3 name should either be Jon Snow or The King of the North) and known even with the dipshit they have as PL they will get it done. BP moved out with all that was asked of us – full water bladders, a shovel flag, and two logs: John Holmes and Long Dong Silver.

We stopped in the parking lot to pick up some extra water and we were off.  Unlike earlier when we all happy to not be Trinity, There were now 30 members of BP glaring at me saying “I wish I  was that Fing guy!” Shouldering Holmes and Silver was pure misery – if Dante had an 8th level of Hell this may have been it. As we approached Handel’s Ice Cream, I thought Cadre Danny must have wanted some Rocky Road because he ordered us to halt. He pulled me aside and like the Gap Band dropped the bomb on me – I had forgotten to take the team weight with us so we would be retracing our steps to Miakonda with the Two logs and starting over.  That I would swear on my testicles that the weight was never mentioned in the original order was immaterial. (I am not sure if the dumbass look on my face planted a seed of doubt in Cadre Danny’s head or they had informed him that this Dauber guy is the dude that falls a lot (my go to move at the GRT Cincy). Whatever the reason, he took pity on me and said we would wait to have the weights brought to us. SIDE NOTE – That Cadre Danny stated as much at the amphitheater speaks to his leadership. Hold yourself accountable – another lesson learned from this Masterclass.) As the other platoons caught up with us I pleaded with their PLs  to loan us a few guys since we had two logs and they had one. After a brief discussion “I can’t spare any guys -we are really struggling with our log…oh really we have one more guy and one more LOG – for the love of god give me a couple of guys”. Finally, We were able to procure 4 guys from each platoon. I don’t remember all 8 but I know Klinger, Dredd, Wake, and FIAB were among them. Tall(er) PAX took the lead log and our the Pax with a lower center of gravity shouldered the caboose log (with our PS Honey Bear focusing his leadership there). At one point in the suffering, Cadre Danny asked me “Do you have a plan?” The answer was fairly obvious. Thankfully BP just kept putting one foot in front of the other and managed to finish ahead of the other two platoons who were carrying ONLY one log a piece. As we reached the back of McCord and the logs were lowered I felt like a wealthy billionaire who”climbs” Everest on the back of sherpas or Phil Jackson.  The men of Blue Platoon had dominated and earned the title Masters Of the Large Logs.

Part VII – Ain’t no party like a PT party.

5 minutes of burpees, timed Butterfly kicks and situps, and a shuttle run. What is a RAK? Correct.  Impressed by the accountability and the effort given by 97 PAX. 77 Burpees by Hacksaw =Just Plain Ridiculous

Part VIII – The Long and Winding Road Home

The question was asked often as we re-fit after the PT test -” Are we going to have to carry those logs back?”   Belding’s solution to just walk into traffic with them became more attractive after Shakira and Dusty, who took over as PL and PS for Blue Platoon, informed us that the answer would be yes. Cadre Mocha Mike’s declaration that  we would be caching Holmes and Silver was a pleasant surprise and Shakira looked like a genius at coupon Uno because we now had only one sandbag to deal with. Noise discipline was stressed as we headed towards Lourdes University and then we stumbled upon a house party still raging near 5 AM and we were about as far from noise discipline as you could get. A young lady kept asking “what were we  protesting?” Well cookies with nuts for one thing, but I digress. Bets may or may have not been taken if the balcony would hold or not. As we turned the corner and headed to Miakonda, It got a bit dicey for awhile – we had trouble keeping it tight, guys were not staying with their buddies and Mocha Mike seemed ready to bring the pain. The solution was again obvious – watch Red Platoon stop in a parking lot and do 40 burpees. In unison we thought “let’s not be those Fing guys” and promptly got our shit together. We were changing out spots in the three man carry like we were in a NASCAR pit. Mother Rucker, who had almost succumbed to the cold earlier in the night, and Belding carried the sandbag FOREVER. The sun peaked through and the guys in Blue Platoon eagerly got under an elbow, grabbed the team weight,. or carried an extra ruck.  We were in the final stretch…maybe?

Part IX – On Golden Pond

Shakira broke us out into squads for some Spring cleaning around the parade ground. The Pyramid at Giza had lasted for millenia, ours did not last the night. We teamed up with a few squads from another platoon  to return logs to their original place. The highlight had to be Cadre Shredder leading us in a GROW – RUCK, GOOD – LIVING cadence as we made our way back to the amphitheater – Another Damn this is awesome moment.  Guy has a great voice. I would listen to a podcast of Cadre Shredder just reading the Yellow Pages. We enjoyed the sunrise and some solid words from Dredd before Cadre Danny explained our next task – A partner carry around Golden Pond. I was partnered with Bo Schembechler. He really screwed the pooch on this one due to my 245 to his 215, but that is what you get when you punch a Clemson player in the face. It was cool to see nearly the entire PAX double back for the 6 and grab a ruck of someone who was struggling.

Part X – This is the End

As we formed up on the parade ground, preparing for one last smokeshow, I thought how did I get here? I should be reading the paper with a cup of coffee thinking of ways to limit my trips up the stairs – that would have been me a year ago. Instead I was surrounded by friends old and new – sharing laughs and handshakes looking at each other knowing that “we just kicked this pig in the balls” (a Gapism,  which is not to be confused with a Gapasm) . Men who pushed me with their words and more importantly their actions. Pixar, Bambi, Nails, Haskell, Belding, Brute, Gap – these are the guys that surrounded me all night. I know everyone in Blue Platoon had a crew like that who did the same for them – I encourage you to share in the comments section who those dudes were. That is what will truly make this backblast complete.  

Although I don’t think I could top Jimmy Dean’s words and gesture, I would like to end this by thanking the Cadres: Danny, Mocha Mike, and Shredder. What you have given of yourselves in the service of this country most of us cannot begin to understand.  The chunks of wisdom you imparted throughout the night whether funny ”lady noises” or serious “it matters at the end” have been embraced by the 97 men who had the privilege to be in your company. It is most likely the reason all 97 of us finished. It is now on us 2621 to impart it on others.

Mic Drop

  • Dauber, F3 Toledo
1 reply
  1. Joel "Bluto" Whitcomb
    Joel "Bluto" Whitcomb says:

    “Bluto made it a point to shoulder more than his load, his effort on the log and coupons was dynamic, that big Navy Popeye loving SOB pulled his load and then others when they could not or would not.”

    That is the nicest thing anyone in F3 has ever said to me, Brita. I’m used to hearing you tell me, “Move your fat ass and GFY!”

    In all seriousness, Red Platoon was really hitting their stride towards the end. The organized chaos and the punishment that ensued had a way of binding us together. I would be proud to serve in the military with all of you(Maybe not Scrooge as PL….j/k). Those fourty burpees at the end really sucked but the elephant walk was much worse. I feel like I know Menace on a more personal level now despite not having an actual conversation with him. I will say that I think Red Platoon had the best mumble chatter out of all three platoons. Nothing better then the loud cacophony of Mickey, El Chapo and Brita. We were in residential areas and supposed to keep quiet but nobody can hold “The Mickey” down. He just kept belting out enthusiasm and motivation while El Chapo screamed threats to people not pulling their weight. The ying & the yang for sure. I was proud to serve with Red Platoon on this CSAUP event.


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