ranger school

The moment has finally come. I’ve waited three years for this experience. My unit is finally sending me to Ranger school. How long I’ve planned and waited for this moment. This will be the most enduring, the most demanding school I will be attending in my personal quest for promethean overcoming, for satanic mastery. This will be my second tab on the way towards achieving the “Tower of Power,” known amongst the most elite of the U.S. Army. Already I’ve earned the Airborne tab, now onto the Ranger tab. Several years from now I will complete the tower and earn the Special Forces tab when I complete the Q course.

It all started three years ago when I signed up to join the U.S. Army as an Infantryman. Viewing with horror the decline in politically subversive groups of true merit I turned elsewhere for true satanic insight. For me, my insight role would last for almost 10 years. A lengthy and carefully planned execution of consecutive goals towards becoming a tier one operator in the United States military. To the detriment of my recruiter I decided to start at the bottom and earn my way up. He wanted to place me in a highly advanced MoS, because of my high ASVAB score and a bachelors in psychology. I decided to start where all real men should start, as a grunt and as a “fuzzy.” I would start at the very bottom and claw my way to the top.

I was sent off to Ft. Benning several months later to be trained for 14 weeks to become an Infantryman. Where I was taught to do one thing, to kill. Where no emotion was to be shown, where weakness was weeded out, and where even the most faint of heart were turned into weapons of war. During my tenure at Ft. Benning I was able to use satanic manipulation to cause a fellow private to hang himself with 550 cord. My very first Gift for the Prince. This was followed by a very colorful experience of horror no doubt due to the energy I carried with me from pathworking with the Dark Gods.

After graduation I was sent to Airborne school for three weeks where I was able to toy with the minds of the parachute riggers which caused a slip up in one of the chutes of a fellow student who fell to his death from the C-130 that carried us in the sky for our first live jump. After completion from Airborne school I was sent to an Airborne unit where I was to be deployed to Afghanistan only six months later.

My year long deployment to Iraq further helped the deadening of my senses I was feeling. I become a stone cold killer. I learned quickly that what I was taught all my life about America being the bastion of freedom and the harbinger of humanitarian ideals quickly flew out of the window when we greased children who were holding AK’s. When we murdered and burned to the ground everything in our path. When your told your expendable over and over you learn to fight with every resolve. Knowing that no support is waiting in the rear to come to your assistance. I saw the bodies of young girls who were decapitated and had the heads of dogs sewn onto the necks. We would learn well from their tactics. Upon my return from Iraq we went back to training. It was my goal at that point to attend the toughest course the Army had to offer, Ranger school.

I began training heavily in advanced land navigation, in patrolling, and in leading platoon sized elements. I began bulking up to prepare for the 30-40lbs I would lose in Ranger school. I began rucking barefoot on hot asphalt to toughen my feet. I built my core using 75lb kettlebells, deadlifts, military presses, and squats. I read everything I could get my hands on to prepare. I learned that only 3000 soldiers every year get the opportunity to attend Ranger school and of that number only 25% pass the first time through. 67% only pass at all out of a class and many are recycled and have to repeat phases. I was determined to make it the first time. I learned all the tricks to surviving. I knew to eat match heads to circulate sulphur through my system to keep chiggers out of my skin. I learned a lot from my deployment on ignoring pain and fatigue. I felt ready.

My personal record of Ranger school starts on day one of 61 days. I will keep the record as contraband unbeknownst to the Ranger Instructors. We arrived at Ft. Benning to begin Phase I. I was at Benning during the summer and remembered how hot and humid it was, but this is February and I can’t believe how cold it is. The high humidity chills the body to the bones. In typical Army fashion we aren’t allowed any snivel gear. I knew then this was going to be painful.

We signed some initial paperwork and were immediately hauled off to our first training site. The smell of fresh recruits made the RI’s blood thirsty. They hurried us off the bus, some were crawling through windows to escape the wrath of the RI’s. They rushed us off to a pit where we were put into the front leaning rest position. We were briefed, more like lectured in that position for an hour. Anyone who couldn’t hold the position was given a 35lb motivation rock to hold above their head. I learned from experience to keep calm breathe deeply and ease the stress on the joints to remain relatively comfortable in that position. After an hour it became impossible even for me. They put us in the position of attention and ran us around a track where we had to bear crawl and fireman carry our Ranger buddy for hours. We were ordered off the track and into two man formation where we were to apply MACP or the Modern Army Combatives Program. We were to perform a takedown over and over until the RI’s were satisfied. Satisfied was not in their vocabulary and they sent us running around the track again. This went on well into the night. We were then ran to an obstacle course that we had to negotiate. It was already pushing 2300. I knew this would be a long night. After the obstacle course we low crawled through freezing muddy water for 300 meters under barbed wire and simulation artillery fire. All the while being hounded by the RI’s to crawl faster and to keep our faces in the mud. I emerged on the other side of the barbed wire freezing, soaked, and unable to feel most of my body. A weaker soul asked one of the RI’s when we were stopping for the day. The RI merely grinned and said we still have the morning yet. We were rushed off from the site to pick up rucksacks and rifles to go on a seven mile “ruck run.” I could feel blisters forming from the soggy mud in my boots. Already many were falling out and quitting. The ruck run ended at 0400 when we were told to shower, change, and catch a few hours of sleep. Day one over.

Day two began only one hour later. The RI’s gave us a false hope of much needed rest. We began immediately with the testing of our courage. We climbed a ladder 50 feet into the air and walked foot in front of foot over a plank over frigid cold water where three steps marked the center of the plank with the iconic Ranger insignia. We then descended hand over hand along a 20 foot long rope where we were to touch a wooden sign bearing the same insignia, then fall from that point into the water. We were then instructed to emerge from the water only to put web gear on and jump back in donning our web gear upon entering the water. How cold and debilitating the water was. Weak swimmers sunk to the bottom in desperation and were pulled out by paramedics that were standing by for emergencies. They were given only one more chance and were cut from the course. After this test of combat water survival we were run into a MACP course again. This was clearly done in effort to wear us out. Fatigue and hunger were setting in badly already. After this we were quizzed in the front leaning rest on terrain features and other map reading related matters. Every question answered wrong added 10 minutes to our misery. We were finally given an MRE around 1300. We had to eat this as quickly as possible for more pain. We found ourselves several hours later on a 15 mile ruckmarch with a 60lb rucksack, along with rifle, and FLC. This lasted into day three. Unbeknownst to my persons many were dropping out. I kept my focus on the feet in front of me, never looking up. This made things somehow easier. We finished the ruckmarch in 2 1/2hrs. We were permitted to sleep at 0200.

Day three restarted at 0345 with a five mile PT run. A couple fell out and were counted as No-Go’s. We are beginning to feel like the walking dead. Yet we still have 59 days to go. We were finally given breakfast after PT. Which was much needed, we finished the meal with great relish. We spent the next several hours on classes about advanced land nav and patrolling techniques. We then had a night long land navigation course to navigate without the assistance of headlamps or red lens flashlights. I found myself tripping over vines and getting caught in thorn brush. It was tearing my ACU trousers to shreds. I forgot about this shit when I was on FTX during my first tour at Benning. It was slowing me down tremendously and I had to constantly worry about breaking my ankle on the fallen logs and animal holes. Luckily a full moon gave some additional illumination to my misery. Perhaps an omen. When will this night end?

Day four began as all others, with pain. I was feeling invigorated from the full moon last night and it rekindled my morale. We’ve only ate two meals since we arrived and only four hours of sleep so far. Already the environment is starting to feel strange, or perhaps it’s myself? It’s getting hard to tell. We continued today with a day land nav course. This was much easier in the daytime. I made sure to perfect my land nav skills before arriving here and knocked out the course very quickly. I received high marks for this, and am hoping this will help overcompensate any negative marks I might receive. We were sent out on a 7 miles patrol through some of the thickest deepest jungle I’ve only seen in movies that night. I of course got stuck with the 240 Bravo. I found myself getting stuck several times in knee high black mud. The extra weight I was carry from the bravo didn’t help any and I had to be pulled out several times by the other Rangers. This slowed us down tremendously and we were pushing our time hack very closely. Leadership was handed off to someone else by the RI’s and we pushed onward through the thick foliage. I could hear the RI’s smirking in the enjoyment they got from our misery. We found ourselves several hours later at the ambush site, and instead of being the ambushers we became the ambushed. They sent in an SF unit to toy with us, so that they could hone in on their own skills. We used the oldest trick in the book and used battle drill one alpha. Bravo team broke contact and went New York to flank the ambushers. I had to lay down cover fire for Bravo team while they tried to run through the thick brush. Several fell on the way to getting to a suitable flanking position. God damnit this is miserable. We somehow overpowered our aggressors and moved on to our next objective which was an area to set up a patrol base for the night. We arrived and dug our shallow graves to sleep in and pull security. Luckily my Ranger buddy pulled the first security shift so I was afforded an hour of sleep. We rotated every hour until 0330 when we packed up and moved out. I could have sworn I heard strange noises out in the woods outside our perimeter. Perhaps it was only coyotes.

Day five, this is supposed to be the last day of the most cuts. If you can make it past day five all you need to do is stand fast and make it through. Easier said than done. We maneuvered our way through the brush and made it back to some “hooches,” that had been in place since the 40’s by the look of them. We were offered the chance to clean up and be ready by 0545 to conduct morning PT. A relief at last. I cleaned the grime off my body that was beginning to form. PT was a five mile run in full battle rattle, how nice of the RI’s. We continued again with MACP during mid morning, ate an MRE, and continued on with patrolling techniques again. 17 more days to go at Benning, which will conclude the “crawl phase.” Have to operate day by day. It’s the only way to make it through.

Day 19, the past weeks have been nothing but a physical and mental test to see if we can deal with the rigors of the last two phases of Ranger school. I’ve already blacked out twice from sleep deprivation. I’m having a hard time recalling what we done so far. Everything is starting to blur. The same foliage, the same tree’s, the same god damn Georgia red clay. It’s still very cold and it even snowed on us a little last week. A very uncommon event here, apparently not uncommon enough for us. I’ve been noticing this class is quite uncommon or perhaps something is happening where not aware of. I’ve watched as guys got up from their shallow graves at night and walk around aimlessly muttering to themselves. I wonder if they realize what they’re doing. I’ve noticed myself staring into nothingness for hours at points. Tomorrow is the last day of the Benning phase and then we begin the Mountain phase. At least at this point if I break my leg I’ll get recycled to the next class. One phase at a time, one day at a time, one hour at a time. Have to keep counting down.

Day 21, we made our way to Camp Merrill to begin the mountain phase. We spent most of the day learning knots, instruction on rappelling down mountain cliffs, and climbing cliffs. Staying awake has been my worst enemy. Anyone unable to stay awake during class is given the motivation rock to hold above their heads. They must have air assaulted that damn rock here. The terrain here is terrible. Already some have literally rolled down some of the mountain sides. Still attached to their rucksacks they got hit a couple of times in the head from their gear. One broke his leg from bad footing in between two rock formations. We’re back to patrolling constantly and the rough mountainous terrain slows us down tremendously and some of our missions require us to already apply the mountaineering skills we’ve learned from class earlier. There’s snakes everywhere and the spider webs we walk through are so thick you have to turn around and walk backwards to break through as you swat at the arachnid that has decided to use your face as a new spot to make a web. We were weighed that night. First time since we arrived. I’ve lost 20lbs already. For those who didn’t bulk up before arriving it’s showing tremendously. When they change their ACU’s their ribs are starting to show. Our eyes are starting to sink back into our heads and a permanent black shroud is beginning to form around our eye sockets. We catch occasional whiffs of the distinctive smell of a man who’s been out in the field for days.

It’s not even worth keeping track of the days at this point, they all melt into one. I’ve noticed I’ve picked up an appetite for raw blood meat. I find myself becoming more and more animalistic and primal. The lack of sleep and food is causing us to stumble around during patrols, to overlook the simplest of tasks, and unable to hold any sane conversation. I found myself today kicking rocks at a snake and laughing, when one of the RI’s came upon me he shook his head and gave me a push to move onward. I’m beginning to understand what it means to be a vessel for the Dark Gods. It’s become almost impossible to operate on a conscious level.

Today I’ve been given leadership to lead a raid on a mortar position. With the intention of the course being to simulate combat stress, they certainly are doing a most effective job of such. All that’s missing is the combat rush I felt so often in Iraq. I led the platoon along a ridge line I felt would give us cover and keep us out of some of the valleys and away from some of the cliffs that plotted the landscape. I was wrong, we ended up in moving right through a saddle which put us in the perfect ambush site on both sides. How could I have missed that? Fortunately we weren’t ambushed, but the RI’s made note of that mistake. We successfully made it to the OPFOR mortar site and set up a successful ambush position. We wasted every OPFOR soldier and managed to get ahold of one to interrogate. We learned there was a large weapons cache only several miles away. I made the decision to go raid the cache and hopefully we could confiscate some food as well. We were in luck, we snuck up on the guards watching over the cache, dispatched them and got ahold of three boxes of MRE’s. We disappeared back into the woods to enjoy with great delight our pogie bait.

During security that night in our patrol base I watched as black tendrils descended from the stars to my solar plexus. I felt myself beginning to lift off the ground. I could hear a language being spoken to me that I couldn’t consciously understand but deep within my subconscious my blood began to boil and my skin started to crawl. Just as soon as it began, it was over. Was it a dream? I don’t know.

The next morning I awoke to yelling. One of the Rangers was eaten alive last night by wild animals. His flesh was mauled and his eyes stared into nothingness. How didn’t any of us hear this, how come we didn’t hear his cries for help as he was ravaged by wild animals. I stood there and stared at his gaping wounds and I felt my mouth begin to tremble and my back begin to tense. I felt a coiling black energy working its way up my spine to my brain. I clenched my teeth and my fists. While everyone was doing everything they could to resuscitate a corpse I felt myself desiring to taste the blood that had formed around the body. My moment of stupor was broken when the RI’s came to extract the body, shaking their heads. What’s happening to me?

W. Hacon, ONA


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