Dunnage as Sackcloth

April is the cruelest month. T.S. Eliot

Winter’s waning brings a rapid succession of days where I have the pleasure and privilege of bestowing gifts on my wife of almost four decades. Not long after Christmas comes the Feast of Saint Valentine when I supplement appropriate hagiography with my annual romantic bartering for marital affection; since this year, Valentine’s Day fell on Ash Wednesday, in lieu of the usual sweet and colorful fodder, I gave her a book she wanted which she immediately devoured. Next on the waning winter celebratory calendar is our wedding anniversary on St Patrick’s day (we were Protestants in our youth and were unaware of the appropriate Lenten restrictions) when among other things, I buy her a bouquet of white roses with a blossom commemorating each year she has endured me; the florist smiles at each incremental increase when I show up annually with cash in hand. This is followed by my wife’s birthday in early April after which I am off the hook until Mother’s Day in May.

Recently more than in times past however, the month of April triggers some ominous memories that have become more vivid somehow with distance in time. I had relegated my memories of the events of Operation Eagle Claw (OEC) to my mind’s recesses after leaving the First Ranger Battalion for Special Forces (SF) in August of 1980 following the ill-fated mission that past April. At the time of my transferring, Ranger participation in Eagle Claw was classified so I could not speak of it, and I thought little of it; I had moved on and was looking forward to what I perceived as a welcome change in mission scope and context in my move to SF. Since then, books, essays and documentary films have been published and produced on the mishaps of our Joint Task Force (JTF). And as is the custom in the US, anniversary ceremonies commemorate the catastrophe at Desert One, which along with some mistakes causing avoidable loss of life during the subsequent invasion of Grenada, Operation Urgent Fury, influenced a significant change in DoD command structure particularly for military special operations forces. The Goldwater–Nichols Department of Defense Reorganization Act addressing many force and command structure deficiencies passed on October 4, 1986.

The Desert One disaster happened on April 24, 1980; I had tackled Ranger and SF certification and training requirements and served in those roles as an enlisted soldier well before the major changes in force structure after 1986 including the new Special Operations Command (SOCOM). Call me masochistic, after I was commissioned through Officer Candidate School (OCS), I had the redux privilege of going back through SF qualification training as an officer to join the newly formed branch. What was new to my commissioned SF candidate peers was largely old school for me and I had to fight cynicism as I saw my SF niche turning into another career path option for climbers. 

Prior to SOCOM, an officer who went SF had chosen to cap his career at Colonel and more likely below that; after SOCOM, and in the wake of all the highly efficient, well-resourced, and carefully choreographed if deleterious and wasted special operations action in Afghanistan and the Middle East, SF officers started finding their way to flag positions, and while many deservedly have made the grade, some with whom I worked in company and staff level positions who eventually pinned on stars, I would not trust to walk my dog or allow anywhere near the vicinity of my daughters. The mechanical block-checking officer evaluation system that drives senior promotions is broken beyond repair.  

It has always been rough road for anyone with a good conscience and a patina of virtue to navigate a military career path, but the current woke hurdles to be a commissioned officer seem unfathomable. The context of the warrior vocation, along with the academies have been hijacked by compliant normies who fully capitulate to all the false paradigms generated by the enemy of our souls.

OEC was well before the 1986 change in command structure. Col. Charlie Beckwith, who oversaw the JTF did not have anything remotely resembling the command and control we witnessed under General Schwarzkopf during Desert Storm. He had to cobble together JTF 1-79 by combining force elements that did not train together, did not work well together and were at various times in competition for resources and recognition. The use of the Rangers, as I understand it, was pressed upon him. 

The two Ranger Battalions were relatively new in 1980 although the history of the Rangers goes back much further than the two units active in 1980. He would have preferred to do all the ground operations with his Delta teams, but arguably his reach exceeded his grasp for a mission of this scope. Someone had to block the roads and seize the airstrip. There was just too much to be done by his small elite force alone. I recall seeing him briefly at the Ranger section of the staging area at Wadi Qena in Egypt; he appeared an oddity to me in khaki shorts, but also appearing marshal as my faded memory serves.

As one could assume under the Carter regime, our Ranger contingent in support of Delta was under-resourced. The M151 Jeeps transferred to us from a nearby unit for the airfield assault portion of the mission were old and beat up with high mileage. The dirt bike motorcycles we used were recreational toys bought on the local economy and adapted for late night rushing to blocking positions using PVS5 night vision devices and infrared tape over the headlights. 

To increase the firepower of the small airfield assault team, we were all issued M203s - rifles with 40 mm grenade launchers. Not all of us had the appropriate vests for carrying the grenades however, an apparent oversight that could not be addressed in a timely manner for the mission. My vest-deficiency workaround was to weave together canvas ammunition dunnage from the storage boxes into the semblance of a vest; with what I could carry of the basic load I resembled a monk in sackcloth and felt about as agile as one. I would quickly realize how appropriate was that analogy.

Everything in my military career after OEC with its mission preparation and aftermath was anticlimactic by comparison. In retrospect I should have kept the makeshift dunnage vest to wear on an ash heap annually every April 24^th while reflecting on the mission.

Frank DeRienzo is a retired Special Forces Lieutenant Colonel. He holds a BA in Philosophy from Gordon College and an MBA from the University of Massachusetts and is a graduate of the US Army Defense Language Institute. He currently works with eLearning technology.