Robert Foley

Name and Rank: Robert C. Foley Staff Sergeant (E-6) Year graduated from Jump School: October 31, 1975

Years in service and MOS: 9 including time in a Mechanized Infrantry Battalion with the California National Guard.

05B4S--Intermediate Speed Morse Code Radio Operator

31V4S--Tactical Communications Chief

My assignment: C Co., 2nd Bn., 20th Special Forces Group (Airborne)

Why I joined:  When I was a kid I was certain of two things.  First, I would jump out of an airplane.  Second, I would fly a helicopter for the US Army.  Well, by the time I was in  Junior High School I had to start wearing glasses.  This brought my flying career in the Army to a screeching halt.  So, I opted to pursue my primary goal.  Since, my father was a Special Forces Troop, the natural thing for me to do was to  join up.  By the time I was 18 it was my obvious choice.

My most vivid memory:

I think the thing that I remember most is jumping at night.  Which we seemed to do a lot.  The image that really sticks with me is being inside the aircraft with the doors open and the Jumpmaster waiting to give us the Go signal.  Because it was at night, the aircraft was lit up with the red over-head interior lights that are to aid a persons night vision.  So, everything is bathed to shades of red right up until the jump light beside the door goes green and we start to make our exits.  I always remember being about third or fourth back in the stick on the left side.  When the Jumpmaster gives the command, I shuffle along and finally make a sharp left turn and then about two quick steps out the door.  Everything is red and green and black, like some king of weird dream.

My favorite Special Forces story:

MESSING WITH MY MIND

I was in Jump School at Fort Benning, I was standing in the door getting ready to go.  The Jumpmaster is first kneeling on the floor beside me watching the Drop Zone come up.  He then stands and yells in my ear "GET READY!!!!".  My legs tense up like springs.  And I'm waiting and waiting.  Then, he grabs my left buttock really hard.  I look at him, with that "What the Hell???" look in my eyes.  He yells at me, " You see that smoke out there?".  I look out to the horizon and way off in the distance is a factory with chimneys that are blasting smoke straight up into the sky.  I looked back at the Jumpmaster and replied, "Yes, Sergeant, Airborne!!!!"  He tightened his grip on my butt cheek and yells at me, "If you don't hit the Drop Zone, I'm gonna kick your Ass!!!"  I blasted back, "Yes, Sergeant, Airborne!!!!".  He then smacks me real hard on the backside and yells, "GO!!!"  I launched myself out of there like a shot.

I get out of the airplane and count off really hard.  All of a sudden, everything is very quiet and really peacefull.  I look around and the Drop Zone is about the size of the state of Delaware and is a text-book Army Drop Zone.  Its got smoke, lights, paneIs, helicopters AND ambulances for anybody that got hurt.  I mean it was Deluxe, and I landed smack in the middle of it.  No problem.

A few months later, I'm in Phase 2 of the Special Forces Q Course.  Once again, I'm standing in the door waiting to jump into the mountains of western North Carolina.  The Jumpmaster raises himself up beside me and yells, "If you don't hit the Drop Zone, I'm gonna kick your Ass!!!"  And I'm thinking, "What the Hell???"  Wow, deja vue, except this time he's not grabbing my butt and I'm looking outside the aircraft at whole bunch of trees.  I mean trees everywhere.  The Jumpmaster pounds me on the backside and I'm out of there. 

Once again, I get outside the aircraft and count off really hard.  This time I'm looking and I still don't see anything that remotely looks like a Drop Zone.  So, I do a quick spin with my parachute and then I see it.  There's this clearing in amongst all these trees with ONE guy waving a panel at me like some kind of freakin hankie.   I'm thinking to myself, "Oh, Crap, I'm gonna get my butt kicked, Big Time.

ILL WINDS BLOW

I think the incident that is the most memorable for me would be the day that my A Team was standing around waiting for something or somebody.  That is the "Hurry up and wait" thing that the Military is famous for.  Anyway, there was this young guy that had just finished the Special Forces Medic course and he was hot to trot.  I'm afraid now that I don't remember his name.  Anyway, this guy was the Cock of the Walk and he was telling everybody that would listen.  He was the best SF Medic ever, and he was going Ranger, and Path Finder, and SCUBA and there was "nuthin that he couldn't do".

Well, one of the observers at the time happened to be our Team Sergeant.  We didn't realize it, but he was becoming more and more disgusted with this guy by the minute.  By the time the Medic got around to the part about how he could do anything.  The crusty, old Team Sergeant blurts out "Well, Hell if you can do anything, anywhere, anytime.  Why don't you Fart, Boy!!! Fart!!! Lemme hear you Fart!!" 

You could have heard a pin drop.  The whole Team just froze and stared at the Team Sergeant, all of us trying to process what the man had just said.  We all stood in wide-eyed amazement swapping glances at the Team Sergeant, then the Medic, and then at others in the group.

Then, almost in one movement the entire Team cast its gaze onto the young Medic.  His eyes sort of went squinty.  He thrust his right hip out and up and his arms bent at the elbow letting his hands drop at the wrists.  He seemed to assume the universal posture of someone about to let one rip.

His slight but sturdy body started to quiver, just slightly.  Beads of sweat started to collect on his upper lip.  Then, there it was.  As quiet and delicate as a wisper. "Pooooooooooootttttt".

I know it was only a couple of seconds but it seemed like an eternity.  And at exactly the same milli-second the whole Team exploded into the most visceral, soul-shaking, ground-pounding, knee-slapping laughter that I have ever heard. 

And the young Medic's body relaxed and he stood there and smiled.

As if to add insult to injury, the guys on the Team where all at once laughing and making comments, "Hope you didn't hurt yourself", and "You better go check your laundry", and laughing, continuously.

Now, thoroughly disgusted.  The Team Sergeant wheeled around and left our group.  Just before he was completely out of ear shot, we could hear him making disparaging remarks about the young Medic's masculinity and sexual orientation.

But, by this time the Guantlet had been tossed and from that time on, Isolation Phase with my A Team was pure Hell.  It got to the point where my team-mates were practically fighting over the prize of the C rations--beans and franks.

I honestly believe I can still hear those guys laughing their heads off.

BUNGLE IN THE JUNGLE

Another incident that struck me funny was a time when my Team was pulling an FTX out of Ft. Rucker, Alabama.  I don't remember any details about the Insertion Phase, I assume we either jumped in or came in via helicopter.  Either way, it must have been routine.  What I do remember, is on this particular night the Team was attempting to move into a new area.  For what-ever reason we were making this move at night through some very thick areas of dense trees and wait-a-minute vines.  And it was just as black as you can imagine.  I remember that I literally could not see my hand in front of my face.

Per our Team SOP, we aligned ourselves single-flie and were moving slowly and carefully through all the overgrowth.  The problem with trying to move like this was that it was very easy to become separated from the rest of the Team.  So, to try to keep more Team integrity, the idea was to hold on to the guy in front of you by keeping a grip on his Rucksack with your right hand.  With this type of really tight formation, we could creep forward and eventually get through.  I guess the idea was to mimic a large 24 legged caterpillar.

The problem with this type of movement was that it gives you very little time to react.  I recall that as we were trying to move along, the guy in front of me side-stepped a small sapling.  As he moved to his right just a little, it slid past him and caught me exactly in the crook of my right arm as I was holding it high and grasping onto his Rucksack.

All at once, there I am, holding on to this guy's Rucksack with all my might and at the same time halted in my tracks by this 1 or 2inch diameter sapling.  Before, I could do anything about it, the front half of the formation, unimpeded, lurched forward by a couple of paces.  At the same time the rear half of the formation lurched forward and pinned me to this infernal tree-ling.  Being the good SF Troop that I was, I tried with all of my might to keep a grip on the guy in front.  This caused me and this blasted tree to bend forward at about a 45 degree angle. 

By this time the strain on the entire forward part of the formation was so great that each man's arm was stretched as tight as a rubber band.  And the rear group of men had compressed themselves against me and this now spring-loaded sapling.  At that time I could not hold my grip any longer and the Rucksack in front was torn away and as a consequence, launched the man in front of me right into the forward group.

The poor guy was shot into the forward group like a bowling ball and caused the entire group to go Ass-over-teacups into a mass of arms, legs, and Rucksacks.

At the exact same instant, the sapling rebounded and caused a compression wave that travelled through me and the rear element, throwing each of us into a second writhing, cursing mass of arms, legs, and Rucksacks.