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License to Drive

License to Drive

License to Drive


MELISSA BLOCK
Kenner Army Health Clinic
Fort Lee, Virginia

So there I was, fresh out of Advanced Individual Training. I had just reported to my unit three weeks prior and now found myself sitting in the driver’s seat of a Heavy Expanded Mobility Tactical Truck (HEMTT) parked on a railcar. A few questions were running through my mind: How did I get here? What in the world is a HEMTT? Am I going to drive this thing off the ramps? This was going to be bad.

When I first reported to my unit, I was told to pack my bags to travel to Florida for a Sealift Emergency Deployment Readiness Exercise (SEDRE). I was issued my TA-50, received a barracks room to store my things and then hopped on a plane. Upon arrival, we prepped for the first few days while waiting for equipment to arrive. Helicopters, CONEX boxes on trucks, and vehicles on railcars began to flood in, seemingly all at once. The fun was about to begin! 

The mission was to break down and shrink wrap aircraft and load everything onto a vessel via lift on/lift off (LO/LO) or roll on/roll off (RO/RO) in preparation for shipment to an operational point overseas. The Soldiers were broken down into teams, and our shifts were long and fast-paced. We had to load all of Fort Campbell’s aircraft, equipment and supplies onto two vessels in less than 11 days. It was controlled chaos at this point. The only mention of safety in all the briefs provided was when we were reminded to wear our hard hats and vests and told to “be safe.” 

I was on a team assigned to unload and reposition vehicles that had just arrived on the railcars. On this early January morning it was dark and a bit foggy. The rail came in earlier and we had just come on shift. Coffee? Check. Hard hat and safety vest? Check. License to drive any military vehicle? Uhhh …

We had some Soldiers that had been trained and licensed on the different types of vehicles and equipment we were unloading. Unfortunately, we didn’t have enough of them to break out into even teams of ground guides and drivers. My E6 told me to get in a HEMTT and drive. I brought up my concerns of my unfamiliarity with the vehicle and lack of licensing. To this he replied, “You have a license right? You’re a Soldier. Get the mission done!” 

Being the good private, I reluctantly climbed onto the railcar, scooted along the side of the HEMTT to the driver’s door and climbed in the seat. While searching for the keys, I noticed it had a start switch. “Cool,” I thought, as I flipped the switch and the engine started. The gears seemed pretty straightforward and the pedals look familiar. “I’ve got this,” I said to myself. Then I looked up. Where was the ground? 

If you have ever been in a HEMTT, you know there is a huge blind spot just in front of the vehicle due to its height and design. Add the height of the railcar and it was extremely disorienting. I could see my ground guide and he coaxed me forward. All I could think was there was no way I could do this. Then, I heard the voice of my E6 in my head telling me to get the mission done, so I let off the brake and watched my ground guide. 

I couldn’t see the ramps I was supposed to drive down, but I kept creeping forward. When I hit the ramps, I felt like I was about to fall off the face of the Earth. I continued moving, following my ground guide’s every command. Eventually, I made it down safely. I very well might not have if I hadn’t gone so slowly and listened to my ground guide. 

We did have one vehicle come off the ramps that day and — surprise, surprise — the driver was not licensed. The moral of my story is to make sure your Soldiers are properly trained and licensed for the task being performed. While my experience ultimately turned out OK, it could have very easily had a disastrous outcome. 


  • 12 January 2020
  • Author: USACRC Editor
  • Number of views: 924
  • Comments: 0
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