The 12 Rules

Rule 9: Maintain Perimeter Security

Listen, this is one of the most basic fucking rules out there as anyone who has ever carried a rifle ever will tell you, but it's number 9 on the list. Why? Well, it's probably the fourth most important. The twelfth rule..well, that is THE most important one. Math doesn't make sense? Well it will. There are twelve rules. I'll let you figure that out, or don't, stick around and I'll tell it.

I'll be honest. When I was trying to frame this narrative, and digest my experiences into a cohesive series of events...I actually had to leave a lot of rules out. There are a ton of fucking rules, as anyone in any job ever will tell you. Such as, 'don't shit where you eat' or 'don't sleep around the office' (kind of the same deal, I guess), or 'don't piss on the boss' cat'. But, this one is up there at the top.

Story time before story time. Once, when I was a young buck full of hormones and certainty, I was an infantryman (how the mighty have fallen, right?). I was on perimeter security with another dude, we were M249 gunners (big gun go boom-boom, scary, but not too scary...5.56mm scary not 7.62mm or Ma-deuce scary) controlling the entry/exit point to our outpost. It was training, so no big deal right? Wrong. Cadre test you more than the enemy. I took a wink, thinking my battle buddy would cover me but he took a wink too. Shitty communication but we were 20 years old, give us a break. Well...cadre walk up and tap my dumbass on the helmet.

"Hey you sleeping?"

"Uh.....noooo..." (?!)

And then there I was, in the middle of the night soaking in my own sweat like a prime roast in a slow-cooker with my squad automatic weapon held high over my head whilst I maintained a squat position for 30 minutes. Fucking awful.

Anyway, perimeter security is no joke. It's Warfighting 101. That and fire-guard...but...anyway. Different story for a different time.

Where was I? Perimeter security.

On a cold January evening there was a National Guard unit that was training on a small MOUT site (that is, a couple shipping containers with doors so they could practice breaching and room clearing on a simulated 'town'). They were ambitious...for the National Guard. They came out with a couple of 10-ton trucks with a bunch of concertina wire (razor wire in the civilian world), they had glow sticks for safety on the concertina wire and a 24 hour operational command post, roaming perimeter security...the works.

Things get a little tricky though because no one told them they weren't allowed to set-up on the range. This was a range that was strictly off-limits overnight. At 9pm the lights would shut-off. Due to some SNAFU's in communication Sarah and I found ourselves heading out to a location two ranges down from where these folks were at to help a unit with a power outage.

We get to the place we were told to go to and no one was there. Big surprise. Comms working as expected. Then, we put out an all-call on the range control frequency and got some squirrely private trying to tell me where they actually were, so we jumped over to their company frequency to hash things out. Long story short, we do a 'who's on first?' bit and finally figure out where they are.

"Shit. Good timing." Sarah said.

I rolled my eyes. "What now?"

"They aren't supposed to be camping out on that range. Either someone cleared them that shouldn't have, or they went ahead and did it anyway. It's a coin flip."

"So do we go help them, tell them to clear out, or what?"

Sarah thought for a few moments. "How about we watch?"

"That's so romantic." I said, jokingly, before getting a vicious straight to the arm. "Ow! The fuck. You packing super strength too? Jesus."