CALIVIGNY BARRACKS RAID

After a couple days in Grenada we were all pretty much surviving on adrenalin but that was still running extremely high. Our OpOrd [operations order] for the Calivigny Barracks objective pushed the adrenalin into extra-super-duper-overdrive. Spectre and the Navy would prep the objective and lift fire just in time for us to go in. We would be broken into chalks of eight Blackhawks [Chalk denotes a Ranger unit on helicopters] to insert into an open area within the built-up compound. This open area looked awfully small but we knew the pilots were very good and they’d make sure we all fit. We were all rigged up and ready to go in, double-checking everything we already double-checked and then doublechecking the guys next to us even though we already double-checked them a few times. The prep started... everything else stopped.

Calivigny Barracks, Grenada.

(US Army)

We could hear the burrrping and thunk thunk of Spectre intermixed with a crumphing that must have been the Navy guns. Off in the distance we could see smoke billowing up from beyond the hills. We continued doublechecking (our weapons and gear) as we stole glances toward the growing cloud of smoke. Each burrrrp, thunk and carumph brought a tight hint of a smile to our faces - less of them to deal with, more of us to come back.

After an eternity of gunfire we got the signal to move to the aircraft. I was on Chalk Two so I got in position awaiting the return of the first chalk. All heads followed the Blackhawks as they took off with our Ranger buddies and headed toward the large black cloud of smoke. The aircraft were little specks when we noticed the silence. The prep had stopped... the rest was ours. We kept looking off toward the Blackhawks long after they were no longer visible. The silence in the distance was matched with an equal silence amongst ourselves. The only movement was that of hands subconsciously checking equipment... silently.

As one, our heads turned ever so slightly toward the now visible speck of the returning aircraft. The hands stopped moving. The speck grew larger. The speck became two specks, then three... four... five... five - just five. The First Sergeant starts shuffling folks around... silently. Some move back for another chalk... silently. We can make out the dull staccato of the rotors as the Blackhawks grew larger. There was no doubt now, there were only five aircraft returning. What the hell could have been left out there after all that shit that was dumped on them? How was Chalk One fairing?

The Blackhawks took up their positions on the PZ [Pick-up Zone]. We could tell which aircraft positions were empty and strained to recall who was on those birds. We crammed ourselves in tight, muzzles down, trigger guards clear, check the guys next to you. I don’t think anyone looked each other in the eyes, I know I didn’t, either I didn’t want to see the fright in their faces or I didn’t want them to see the terror in mine. I just looked at equipment... and then toward the smoke... and then we took off.

The Blackhawks began banking as they started their zig-zag, I thought about how much more comfortable I was when squeezed in tightly as we were, as if the compressed bodies would prevent each other from falling out if the aircraft turned on its side. Shit... there I go again... concentrate... actions at the objective, assembly positions, directions of fire, TRP [target reference points] locations, reaction teams, search teams, how the hell was Chalk One faring?

I could feel the slight descent of the aircraft as they dipped below a tree line and edged closer to the ground. From front to rear elbows nudged and hands went up with index finger extended. One minute out. Actions at the objective... assembly positions... my helmet’s on my head, right? directions of fire... TRP locations... it’s good to be squeezed in tight... reaction teams... search teams... how the hell was Chalk One faring? That was a pretty darn long minute. The aircraft turned, flared, I saw... carnage.

I couldn’t believe five birds could fit into the LZ [Landing Zone]. They landed rotor to rotor. Blown out walls to one side, something that may once have been a shack on another, over there is an aircraft mockup, part of an obstacle course, large piles of debris, a helicopter laying on its side, and another, and another. A small group of Rangers protected the LZ as the rest expanded the perimeter. They checked us out as we landed and quickly turned their attention back to their front. Some didn’t move at all.

Before the Blackhawks could touch down we were scrambling out and heading to our positions relieving the security team to catch up with their Ranger buddies. Our mortar teams automatically moved into place and within seconds were prepared to fire supporting missions. All personnel accounted for and all teams in place.

My radio comes to life...

The duck-hunter uniform made to look good by Bravo Company 2/75. (John Galetzka)

“One One Charlie this is One Three Foxtrot, fire mission, over” ... FIRE MISSION! I signal the gunners and they acknowledge they’re ready. “Immediate fire for effect, grid 12345678, over” [fake grids coordinates] I mark the grid on my control board, spin the disk to align the gun marker, read the deflection and range, check the charge book and call the guns... “Three rounds in effect... Deflection 3095... Charge 0... Elevation 1011.” The gunners are bowed over their sights, left hand down under the bipod turning the elevation wheel, right hand on the traversing wheel, check level bubbles, recheck sight picture... assistant gunners get the prepared rounds from the ammo bearers and prepare to drop them down the tubes... number one gun sounds off first with “Hang it... FIRE!” They’re immediately followed by the Number Two and Three guns... “Hang it, FIRE!” “Hang it, FIRE!” a quick check of the bubbles and sight picture... “Hang it, FIRE!” “Hang it, FIRE!” “Hang it, FIRE!” check again “Hang it, FIRE!” “Hang it, FIRE!” “Hang it, FIRE!” I’ve called the shot out to the FO [Forward Observer] and follow the second hand on my watch... “Splash over” “Splash out” In the distance I can hear the carumph, carumph, carumph of the rounds striking the ground.

In training, a fire for effect is usually followed by an effect report with buildings burning, hundreds of casualities, widows crying and reporters on the scene. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to hear this time. The distant crackling of automatic weapons firing let me know that they weren’t just sitting there idle. I never did get an effect report. Just as well.

Time passed... hours... Another fire mission, same as before. The fire missions take a minute or two to complete. It’s amazing just how many things are going on simultaneously, how detailed each action is, how exact these gun teams can be in such a short amount of time. Each moment seems to freeze but the next moment comes too quickly, a stroboscopic skipping through time as you automatically jump from one task to the next. In the end it seems like a half-second has gone by but a day’s worth of effort was put into it. Then the wait... hours... I check my watch. We’ve been on the ground 15 minutes.

My radio crackles again, the FO warns me that a fast mover was coming through with something a little bigger than 60mm, danger close, and by the way, “Splash over.” I signal the guns to take cover. I don’t recall seeing the fast mover but he may have gone by while I was on the radio because I’m just settling down behind my ruck as I hear the shooshing of offset incoming. This shooshing had a bit of a whistle to it... and it was getting much louder than normal, much faster than normal... WHAM!!!! JESSSUUUUSSSS CHHHHRRRIIISSTTTTT!!!! With what was left of my hearing I detected another whistling, getting louder, COVER!!! WHAM!!!! What looked like an inch thick trash can lid lands about twenty feet away. It was quiet after that.

We prepared for the night...

It’s getting noticeably darker and it’s been quiet for a while now... too quiet... no SitReps over the radio. I really wanted to know what was happening, what’s happened, but I knew better than to bother asking, I

Would get what info I needed as I needed it, let the rest of the Rangers do their jobs, I had to concentrate on mine.

The first chalk had cleared the immediate area of enemy personnel and established the outer perimeter. My mortar section became the inner perimeter and would clear the area in more detail. HQ Elements would be joining us in the morning for gathering intel and casualty handling. SSG P. was the acting Platoon Leader, I was the acting PSG and SGT D. was my right hand man with FDC [Fire Direction Center] and gun team control. SSG P. took over the radio and covered FDC while SGT D. and I checked the area for things that might go bump in the night.

The compound was a training area complete with mock aircraft, climbing tower with windows, and what appeared to be a tunnel system. One end of the tunnel, or culvert, or whatever it was, was near our position and had a hatch covering the entry. We cleared the tunnel and SGT D. rigged the hatch so we’d know if it moved. Right next to us was one of the downed Blackhawks and nearby were the other two, the wounded had already been evacuated, we’d come back to this site later. We moved on to the buildings.

The first building was a small house-like structure. The outside walls were pitted with holes and craters from the initial prep but I was surprised that it was standing at all after all the ordinance that was thrown at it. We checked for wires in the entryway and slowly made our way inside. Sectioned into offices with nice desks and nice stuff on the walls (used to be on the walls) this was apparently the Commander’s building. We weren’t there for intel collection, just ensuring that there was no threat, so we moved through relatively quickly. The next building had living quarters that were just slightly nicer than the old WWII barracks I was housed in during Airborne School, this was their officers’ quarters. Back outside... there were the Blackhawks... later...

The obstacle course area was fairly open. A large wall designed for rappelling, windows cut out for training use, nothing here. Mock aircraft; kinda like a C-130 mockup but laid out differently... nothing here either. Some remnants of huts and sheds, now little more than piles of rubble, nothing here.

Jim Hicks

B Company, 2nd Battalion, 75th Infantry (Ranger)

The Rangers proved their value during operations on Grenada. Rigorous training and an insistence on high standards aided the individual Ranger in overcoming any obstacle he encountered. The 75th Infantry (Ranger) conducted combat operations with minimal intelligence and proved to be an asset to the overall commander of Operation Urgent Fury who employed them in a variety of tasks throughout the short campaign.

The Ranger battalions had excelled, unlike the majority of the other Special Operations or infantry units during Operation Urgent Fury. They would pay for it later - with the creation of the 75th Ranger Regiment - increasing the Ranger

B Company, 2/75 1987-88. Black berets and class A uniforms. The officers and senior NCOs are in the front row, (Author's collection)

Battalions from two to three in addition to the Regimental Headquarters. Things were going to change. A new culture was ascending in the military - older Vietnam veterans were retiring, and older Battboys, who had become used to doing things a certain way, would flee in the hundreds during the heavy-handed growth of the Regiment.