Grandpa’s War – Part 7 – Checkpoint Bravo

A mission we picked up quickly was what we called Checkpoint Bravo. I don’t think it ever really had an Official name – we just called it that). It was just a turn off from the main highway and out to the desert. Trucks and other units arriving were instructed to watch for us. Our job was to point them off the road in the direction they should go.

We spent most of our time yelling at the drivers to put on their helmets.

The engineers had dug out a pit where we could park our HUMVEEs in. But it rained and the pit turned into a swimming pool. Needless to say, we didn’t park in there.

One of the coolest things that happened occurred with SSG Hahr. He’d come to us from recruiter duty. Now he was standing alongside a dusty MSR (Main Supply Route) along with everyone else.

A truck pulls off the road to turn down towards the division assembly area. The driver of course didn’t have his helmet on.

SSG Hahr went to yell at the driver and got a reaction he didn’t expect. The driver almost fell out of the truck laughing, looks up at the sky, and says, “Thank you, God. My recruiter is here with me.” It was a nice reunion for them.

What got really interesting was when the tanks arrived. The tanks were brought in on the back of semi-trucks that were barely up to the task. Someone told me the trailers weren’t built to handle the massive M-1 tanks. They were built to haul M-60s.

There’s a huge weight difference between the two. The M1A1 weighs in at a whooping 67.6 short tons. The M-60 weights in at a mere 52.6 Short tons. 15 tons doesn’t sound like much but it is.

There was another problem. There was a buried oil pipe system the trucks had to cross. To deliver the tanks, the trucks would have to cross it. The weight of the trucks and tanks together exceeded anything the pipes were made to bear. The fear was that the weight would crush the pipes.

A large crossing had been erected over the pipes. this was nothing more than a man-made hill that the trucks drove over.

Sounds easy.

It wasn’t. The driver had to get a running start at the crossing. He’d then give it full power to make it up and over. God forbid her lost traction, slowed down too much, or worse, the trailer dragged.

A truck came in. It was supposed to be part of a larger convoy bringing in the tanks. The truck wasn’t up to the task of carrying the Abrams and had fallen behind. Now it faced the berm. The driver went as fast as the laboring truck would go, and started crawling up the hill.The cab made it to the top and there he lost traction.

Spinning, he stopped. The trailer contacted the dirt. He tried to back up, but it was a no go. Effectively, he was high centered and couldn’t go forward or back. as long as the tank was on the flat bed.

A couple of Humvee’s and a tank retriever arrived a moment later. The unit that owned the tank had already received word that this tank carrier was a problem.

The colonel there said, “We try pulling him off the berm, we’ll jack up the truck and he carrier. We might even damage the tank.”

The officers and enlisted men discussed the problem. Finally a major voiced the only solution everyone knew of but wanted to try to avoid. “I’m just going to have to drive the tank off.”

Sometimes the simplest solutions are the most obvious. They can also be the most dangerous.

The look on everyone’s face told it all. They knew it was a maneuver fraught with risk.

What impressed me is the Major said “I.” He wasn’t going to hand the task off one of the EMs or lower ranking officers. He was going to lead from the front and take the chances himself.

“You sure?” the Colonel asked him.

“Absolutely.” He started walking towards the stalled truck and tank. “Come on. let’s get it unchained.”

“This is going to be interesting,” I heard my LT say.

Interesting hell, I thought. That tank will come off and almost be standing straight up. We were all wondering if this would end with ab upside down tank.

At the truck, everyone was getting the chains off the tank that held it to the trailer. When clear, the Major and another soldier jumped up onto the steeply slopping deck of the tank. The other soldier opened the hatch and held it open as the major worked his way into drivers seat.

From a distance we watched, fascinated by all this. The gun tube was already pointed to the rear so all the preparations were made. I knew that if the tank did flip over, there was a degree of confidence the major would survive it. I’d heard of things like that happening out at NTC. The drivers were only injured. I’d never heard of one killed.

But then I hadn’t heard of every accident with these things.

The Major said something to the other soldier. The solder nodded and then secured the hatch into the drivers compartment. Then he and the rest of the soldiers walked double timed away from the stalled truck and tank.

The Abrams rumbled to life. After a minute, slowly it began to creep forward. The nose of the tank came over the edge off the bed. Slowly it moved and then seemed to hang in midair. About half the tank hung in the air. Slowly it began to tip forward.

The huge construct of metal slowly bowed down till the front of the tracks landed on the ground. There was nothing jarring about it. It happened with all the gentleness of a mother putting a child in its crib.

It stayed there for a second, and then with a little more motion, the behemoth moved off the trailer. Now it was standing almost vertically in the air. Any small mistake and the tank would topple over. it seemed to hang there forever, and then slowly it began to fall over from the vertical. The back tracks contacted the trailer softly and the tank drove forward.

Now it was off the truck and moving out of the way. The Major drove it a little way off. Then he shut down the tank, the hatch opened, and he got out. He walked back towards us. I was astonished to note the man wasn’t even perspiring.

He acted like he did this every day. to him, it just wasn’t a big deal.

“Sgt,” he said coolly. “Once we get that truck out of here, you want to drive the track to the company area.”

“Happy to, Sir,” the NCO replied.

They still had to use the tank recovery vehicle to get the truck off the berm, but everything worked out.

All I can say is I wish I’d gotten pictures of that operation. Or better yet, a video.

I’m still astonished it went off without a hitch.

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All photographs Copyright – Richard L. Muniz