No Joy, I repeat No Joy
This last weekend was marked by a missing person search in the area. My stomach dropped after I read the OPOrder sent to me by my G3 in the Guard. 73 year old male, advanced alzheimers, diabetes.....missing for 2 days already. For any of you who haven't been to SC in summertime, it can be hard for a young fit person to deal with the heat and humidity, much less an elderly diabetic male. Instantly the term "Recovery Mission" came to mind as I began prepping my gear for our 0600 deployment the next morning. Just today was my last day of a 8 week archaeological field school for my major in Anthropology. After 8 weeks of 6am mornings and working outside for 8 hours a day digging holes, I was looking forward to tomorrow as one of my first days to sleep in and heading to my parents' place a couple hours away from some R&R. So much for that, time to gear up and play. The next day was marked with sun, heat and few promising leads.
We deployed from a church nearby the man's last known position and were assigned to small task force teams of State Guardsmen and Search Dog agency members. Few moments of promising scent trails surfaced but the midday heat hindered the tracking ability of the dogs. Finally the dog nosed down and took off into the woods near the marsh and our pace quickened. I posted outside the woods while my SGT, Mike, went in with the dog team. Anxious minutes passed, "Dog tracking further down to the water, over" squawked the radio voice of my SGT. Whats going on? Where are you guys? Any signs? These questions all ran through my mind and demanded to be told over the radio but I knew I should keep my curiosity down and the radio clear and resolved to adjust the gear on my back. Finally my curiosity grabbed hold and I called Mike "Sierra Golf 02, Status report over". "Negative contact so far 03, hold position over". Great, more waiting I thought as I kicked at the dirt and garbage along the road at my feet and watched the dust settle on my boots.
The radio squawked again shaking me from my dusty reverie. "03 this is 02, return to rally point....no joy, I repeat no joy over". My heart sank, this guy is still out here somewhere and our team had resolved that we, being the youngest most high-speed guardsmen teamed with the best dog handler the agency could provide would find him. I furrowed my brow as I humped it back to the rally point; hadn't the previous search teams mentioned they had lost the scent at this location? Had he managed to hitch a ride somewhere? My thoughts grew conflicted; if he had gotten a ride at least that meant there was the possibility he was OK somewhere else, but then again where? That vastly increased search area and in turn would make our search run longer, which was time this man didn't have.
"Game over man, Game over" I said quoting PVT Hudson from the Aliens movie as Mike came into view around the corner.
Mike chuckled and said "Load up in the truck, I'm radioing the TOC that we're about to RTB".
I wandered over to the truck while slurping on my camelback. It was 95 with heat index of 107, if I was this hot surely the man....I pushed the morbid thoughts out of my mind and plopped myself on the tailgate of the K9 handlers truck that served as our transport. Mike loaded up next to me, the truck itself was so full with the k9, its crate gear and other stuff that the only place we could ride was off the back of the tailgate with our boots dangling inches over the road. I put my head back on the crate as we drove back to the TOC. It was 1350 and we had been on two continuous search patrols since 0620. I was ready for a break, chow and some AC. I closed my eyes and let the fresh moving air wash over me.
"Hooah Corporal" the captain in charge of the operation said to me as I dropped my gear to the floor in the church's gathering hall. I waved halfheartedly at the CPT and continued to strip down to my T-Shirt, which at this point might as well have looked as though I had just gone swimming in it. Just then I felt something cold poke against the back of my hand. I looked down to see Wolf, the K9 who had been part of our team looking happily up at me as I pet him. "Congratulations, you've made a friend for life. These dogs remember who they search with" Wolf's handler said to me as she smiled at her dog. I frowned as I realized that in the 30 seconds he had been near me Wolf had managed to make a pool of drool roughly the size of Lake Michigan on and around my boot. I sighed and continued petting the aptly named Wolf.
We took 30 minutes while we waited for the rest of the teams to RTB and await out next tasking. Luckily we being the younger guys we recharged faster and ran longer than most of the other troops, a fact our command often knew and took advantage of.
"Whats the word Pete?" I asked First Sergeant Peters as he sat looking at our current search areas on his laptop. Pete as we called him had been 173 Airborne in Vietnam as a dog scout and now worked both as a guardsman and a k9 rescuer but his age didn't show one bit.
"Nothing right now, just sit tight I think we're having formation soon" Pete said to me without looking away from his screen.
Ten minutes later after a small debrief and a detachment "Hooah!" we were dismissed to go home. Apparently with the approaching summer storm and heat the searching had been halted due to lack of scent. As I loaded my gear back into my car I noticed someone standing a few feet back from me. I looked at the middle-aged black woman who identified herself as a member of the missing man's family. She had just wanted to take a moment to thank us for looking for her uncle. I had told her that it was my pleasure and job and wished her well before we parted ways. I closed the hatchback on my car and moved back inside to help Mike with some of his gear and tell the rest of the guys to take it easy. I walked back once more out into the sun and heat. Oh yeah it was Saturday, time to take some nice time off and head back down to visit the parents and enjoy some free food, better times and some semblance of a summer vacation.
We deployed from a church nearby the man's last known position and were assigned to small task force teams of State Guardsmen and Search Dog agency members. Few moments of promising scent trails surfaced but the midday heat hindered the tracking ability of the dogs. Finally the dog nosed down and took off into the woods near the marsh and our pace quickened. I posted outside the woods while my SGT, Mike, went in with the dog team. Anxious minutes passed, "Dog tracking further down to the water, over" squawked the radio voice of my SGT. Whats going on? Where are you guys? Any signs? These questions all ran through my mind and demanded to be told over the radio but I knew I should keep my curiosity down and the radio clear and resolved to adjust the gear on my back. Finally my curiosity grabbed hold and I called Mike "Sierra Golf 02, Status report over". "Negative contact so far 03, hold position over". Great, more waiting I thought as I kicked at the dirt and garbage along the road at my feet and watched the dust settle on my boots.
The radio squawked again shaking me from my dusty reverie. "03 this is 02, return to rally point....no joy, I repeat no joy over". My heart sank, this guy is still out here somewhere and our team had resolved that we, being the youngest most high-speed guardsmen teamed with the best dog handler the agency could provide would find him. I furrowed my brow as I humped it back to the rally point; hadn't the previous search teams mentioned they had lost the scent at this location? Had he managed to hitch a ride somewhere? My thoughts grew conflicted; if he had gotten a ride at least that meant there was the possibility he was OK somewhere else, but then again where? That vastly increased search area and in turn would make our search run longer, which was time this man didn't have.
"Game over man, Game over" I said quoting PVT Hudson from the Aliens movie as Mike came into view around the corner.
Mike chuckled and said "Load up in the truck, I'm radioing the TOC that we're about to RTB".
I wandered over to the truck while slurping on my camelback. It was 95 with heat index of 107, if I was this hot surely the man....I pushed the morbid thoughts out of my mind and plopped myself on the tailgate of the K9 handlers truck that served as our transport. Mike loaded up next to me, the truck itself was so full with the k9, its crate gear and other stuff that the only place we could ride was off the back of the tailgate with our boots dangling inches over the road. I put my head back on the crate as we drove back to the TOC. It was 1350 and we had been on two continuous search patrols since 0620. I was ready for a break, chow and some AC. I closed my eyes and let the fresh moving air wash over me.
"Hooah Corporal" the captain in charge of the operation said to me as I dropped my gear to the floor in the church's gathering hall. I waved halfheartedly at the CPT and continued to strip down to my T-Shirt, which at this point might as well have looked as though I had just gone swimming in it. Just then I felt something cold poke against the back of my hand. I looked down to see Wolf, the K9 who had been part of our team looking happily up at me as I pet him. "Congratulations, you've made a friend for life. These dogs remember who they search with" Wolf's handler said to me as she smiled at her dog. I frowned as I realized that in the 30 seconds he had been near me Wolf had managed to make a pool of drool roughly the size of Lake Michigan on and around my boot. I sighed and continued petting the aptly named Wolf.
We took 30 minutes while we waited for the rest of the teams to RTB and await out next tasking. Luckily we being the younger guys we recharged faster and ran longer than most of the other troops, a fact our command often knew and took advantage of.
"Whats the word Pete?" I asked First Sergeant Peters as he sat looking at our current search areas on his laptop. Pete as we called him had been 173 Airborne in Vietnam as a dog scout and now worked both as a guardsman and a k9 rescuer but his age didn't show one bit.
"Nothing right now, just sit tight I think we're having formation soon" Pete said to me without looking away from his screen.
Ten minutes later after a small debrief and a detachment "Hooah!" we were dismissed to go home. Apparently with the approaching summer storm and heat the searching had been halted due to lack of scent. As I loaded my gear back into my car I noticed someone standing a few feet back from me. I looked at the middle-aged black woman who identified herself as a member of the missing man's family. She had just wanted to take a moment to thank us for looking for her uncle. I had told her that it was my pleasure and job and wished her well before we parted ways. I closed the hatchback on my car and moved back inside to help Mike with some of his gear and tell the rest of the guys to take it easy. I walked back once more out into the sun and heat. Oh yeah it was Saturday, time to take some nice time off and head back down to visit the parents and enjoy some free food, better times and some semblance of a summer vacation.
posted by Becks at 12:12
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