At 0530 the lights come on, illuminating rows of metal bunk beds lining both walls of the barracks on Camp Dawson, West Virginia. Someone plays revelry on their phone; a joke at first, but effective nonetheless. From the bays emerge 35 motivated Defenders from the 445th Security Forces Squadron, Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, Ohio. They are spending the week on an Army National Guard post that seems small upon first glance, but is surrounded by 8,000 acres of remote training grounds utilized by units across the DoD and numerous law enforcement agencies.
This is not summer camp. These Defenders train like they fight.
The first day of the exercise, they trek nearly 10 miles on foot through dense undergrowth on a rural mountainside, enduring intermittent downpours. This region is the Briery Mountain range, formerly public hunting grounds, and the Airmen discover it is aptly named. Split into two teams and restricted to only a map, compass and the water on their backs, they race to locate six checkpoints before the time expires. There is no trails system here; they follow the compass even when it means pulling each other up rock faces one at a time. The elevation on this section of Camp Dawson ranges from 1,880 to 3,000 feet. From breakfast to dinner, the Defenders are out in the woods-- exposed to heat, humidity, rain, wind chill and then heat again.
When lunch—hauled out to the field in insulated containers and served buffet-style off a truck tailgate— arrives, they quickly rig up a makeshift tarp canopy to shelter the food from the elements, and then many Airmen sit on the ground in small groups to eat. At this point, every article of clothing they are wearing is already drenched, whether from rain or sweat—most likely a combination of the two. They embrace it and press forward. Every member completes the rigorous land navigation event—they start as a team, and they finish as a team.
Day two begins out on the ranges. The Defenders pair up and fire Sig Sauer M18’s at eight interactive steel targets; they climb a makeshift tower of metal shipping containers stacked four high to fire a rooftop M4A1 carbine equipped with an advanced combat optical gunsight across a 600-meter range; and they zip through 30 rounds of ammo during a 9-Hole barricade drill, mimicking returning fire from available, albeit less than desirable, cover.
After another gourmet field buffet lunch, scooped up sporadically between firearms tasks as they are able, the Defenders move on to the day’s next challenge: a nine-part Army obstacle course.
The very first obstacle is daunting at 35 feet tall. It features an interwoven rope ladder which renders even the most athletic competitors’ arms shaking and noodle-like by the time they summit the log hurdle and begin their descent. Later in the course, the Defenders low crawl through a sand pit under strung wire, then lift each other over a log suspended above their heads. Divided into their functional four-person fire teams, the quickest completion time on the course is sub-10 minutes.
Despite their visible exhaustion, before hanging up their uniforms for the evening, the Defenders spread out maps and rough sketches on the concrete floor of the barracks to develop their strategy and hammer down the mission details for the final day and the capstone of the tour: Exercise CHAOS. They use the simulated operations order prepared by the squadron’s training and development section to identify their objectives and course of action.
The FTX is a conglomeration of the previous days’ training events. The tone of the final training morning is rich with anticipation. They are out the door for early morning chow before the sun comes up. They swing by the armory then rally at the head of an unmarked, gated road. It’s not even 0800 and the Defenders are in full body armor, waist deep in thorns, shrubs and poison ivy, with weapons in hand. Today, though, the ammunition loaded in their weapons are blanks, and their M4 carbines are outfitted with a blank-firing attachment covering the muzzle.
They are weighed down with an astounding amount of gear strapped to every available loop and hook, yet they burst into a sprint when executing danger crossings in unshielded or otherwise high-risk areas. Relying heavily on tactical hand and arm signals, designated roles, and sheer teamwork, the strike team traverses steep embankments, creek beds and downed trees to move in undetected on their target: a power plant and the oppositional forces who have taken it over. Even from the initial drop and rally point, the resounding boom of large scale detonations pierce through the valley.
In the real world, the now-defunct coal-fired Albright Power Station closed in 2012 and is routinely used for military special operations training and complex exercises. A mammoth facility with multiple layers of fencing and gates, numerous types, sizes and styles of buildings, flights upon flights of metal stairs, and faded warning signs, the largest building at the center of the complex looms more than six stories tall.
Flanked on one side by the Cheat River, a thick tree line surrounds the rest of the power plant. The deserted gravel access road cuts through the forest, looping in front of the plant and providing a buffer of visibility. Behind its rusty barbed wire perimeter fence stand multiple outcroppings of industrial equipment and infrastructure, long abandoned but filled with antiquated remnants from its hey-day. One employee locker, door left open, still holds a granola bar; another, a single cloth glove, its mate missing. Posters on the wall remind entrants to wear hearing protection and put safety practices first. A broken office chair partially blocks a third-floor hallway, bizarrely out of place.
Inside the power plant, the 445th SFS training and development section have rigged simulation improvised explosive device trip wires between old pipes and across narrow catwalks overlooking the largest open space. Sections of the plant are clouded by water-based fog, obstructing a clear line of sight. The oppositional forces have M4 carbines, M240 machine guns, M249 light machine guns and rocket launchers, also loaded with blank ammo which produces the realistic and unnerving sound and flash characteristic of live rounds. They are waiting for the strike team to come find them.
Closing in on the old power plant, the strike team can now hear the banter of the two oppositional force members left outside on gate duty. Occasionally, a spray of gunfire peppers the tree line, intended to trigger a response from any lurking potential intruders. The trained Defenders know better than to return fire and give away their position on the embankment, so they coolly ignore the probing fire and remain focused on the mission. They complete their final reconnaissance phase, then they strike.
Based on sheer numbers, they easily overtake the gate and breach the perimeter. Part of the strike team immediately establishes their own perimeter security while the assault team pushes ahead. Once inside, they discover a labyrinth of stairs and hallways, shrouded in darkness and fog, floors littered with crumbled ceiling tiles and puddles of murky water. The small team moves in a synchronous pack and begins methodically clearing the building, one room at a time. Occasionally they are met by oppositional forces and engage in close quarter combat and small arms fire, the sound of each shot echoing off the cinder block walls.
Once the facility is secured, designated marksmen make their way to the roof to secure the high ground and provide a supreme vantage point, relaying back all they see. The rest of the strike team establishes defensive fighting positions, two listening post/observation posts, and calls for civil engineering support to make repairs to the power plant. Meanwhile, they must keep insurgents at bay. Much like real world conflict, the standoff continues for upwards of seven hours, with simulated gate runners, suicide bombers, small arms fire and rocket-propelled grenades coming in waves.
In all, the Defenders expend a combined total of 26,000 rounds of blank and live ammunition throughout the exercise. They are in “go mode” for no less than 12 hours for three straight days; each morning they faithfully get up, suit up, and file outside for morning formation, followed by breakfast. Despite the long days and challenging conditions, the Defenders’ resolve, as well as morale, seem to be unshakeable.
| Date Taken: | 06.10.2022 |
| Date Posted: | 06.16.2022 10:19 |
| Story ID: | 423139 |
| Location: | WEST VIRGINIA, US |
| Web Views: | 135 |
| Downloads: | 0 |
This work, Coordinated CHAOS: Defenders take over six-story decommissioned power plant, by Capt. Rachel Ingram, identified by DVIDS, must comply with the restrictions shown on https://www.dvidshub.net/about/copyright.
