Marc Lindemann

With deployment to Iraq looming, the tempo of our training has increased. I now have nearly 50 soldiers in my platoon. The Army has already issued us our desert camouflage uniforms and new all-combat uniforms (ACUs); equipment is pouring into our supply and arms rooms. These days we spend more time in the field than in garrison, often embarking upon two-week exercises, returning for a week, and then going back into the field. We have concentrated on honing our field artillery skills, racing our Paladins across the countryside and firing hundreds of high-explosive shells. My platoon has fired the most rounds of any platoon in the battalion, a fact of which my soldiers are justly proud. I will be spending most of August and September in the field, preparing for our likely missions in Iraq. To this end, we will practice providing convoy security, patrolling, and establishing traffic control points.

After my five months of Officer Basic Course at Fort Sill, Oklahoma, Candace and I are finally together again, living at Fort Hood, Texas. Candace writes curricula for a California program that enables migrant workers’ children to earn high school credits that are accepted statewide. I now am a platoon leader in Bravo Battery of the newly reactivated 2-77th Field Artillery of the new Fourth Brigade of the Fourth Infantry Division. We are scheduled to deploy to Iraq this fall and are in the process of receiving and training new soldiers.

Marc has been communicating with me mostly via phone these days. These marathon phone conversations on everything from Marc’s reading material to the minutiae of our days make the separation bearable. I am looking forward to joining Marc in Oklahoma at the end of the summer as it has been about eight months since we’ve been able to live together. Your support and encouragement has made those eight months much easier. Advertising the details of my life, as if they are something unique, makes me feel a bit silly. Still, word has filtered back that these updates are received in the sentiment they are written- a thank you to all of you who are part of our lives. So, I will continue…

As many of you know, Marc graduated OCS on April 8th. We had a wonderful time and I felt an amazing sense of relief. Marc has his commission and the clock on his initial commitment has begun ticking. Up until the actual graduation day, I had fears that, through no fault of his own, Marc might be injured and unable to complete a graduation requirement. That would mean he would be “recycled,” as one-third of the officer candidates were for one reason or another, and would have to wait several months before returning to OCS. Any delay could have postponed his Officer Basic Course in Oklahoma, and so on.

The night before graduation, the OCS class hosted a formal dinner and after party. The very-soon-to-be-officers wore their Class A uniforms while most of their instructors wore dress blues or mess uniforms. All the civilian ladies looked beautiful in their gowns and everyone was simply beaming. Marc’s mother, father, and maternal grandmother were on hand for the festivities.

A highlight for me was meeting many people with whom I had corresponded by e-mail as one of the FRG leaders. The (mainly) wives, girlfriends, and mothers are an excellent group. People were very complimentary about the job Gina, Jessica and I had done with the FRG. The commander even brought Jessica and me to the dais to give us certificates for our work. Although all the attention was embarrassing, and I was disappointed that he wasn’t aware of the work Gina had done, the appreciation validated my efforts.

Graduation was a very special day for us. Marc passed OCS with flying colors, meeting and exceeding all physical, academic, and leadership requirements. I am continually impressed by his Physical Fitness accomplishments- he even earned an Excellence in Physical Training award! After the graduation in the auditorium, we went to the OCS cannon, in honor of the artillery, for Marc’s swearing-in. I was permitted to pin one of the “butter bars” on Marc’s shoulder. Of course, I pinned it the wrong way. Thankfully, this does not nullify the commission! We celebrated with dinner with his family and many presents for the newly minted Lieutenant.

Marc was able to return to New York for a few, too-short days. Thank you to everyone who was able to join us at Florio’s or later at the Yale Club. We’ll be sure to let everyone know the next time Marc can come to New York. Of course, no time with Marc is complete without an adventure! In November, the Honda Civic was stolen out of the parking lot in New Rochelle. As a replacement, I purchased a used ’93 Saturn. So, when we recovered the Honda several months later, we had two cars, one spot, and one driver. My parents helped me to register and inspect the Honda and Marc decided to take the Saturn on a less-than-leisurely drive from New York to Oklahoma. When Marc went to pick-up the Honda for me at my parents’ house, the car wouldn’t start. So, Marc had my mother drive him to his parents’ to pick up their station wagon. Later that night, the station wagon died us in the middle of the street. With the aid of several New Rochelle characters, we jumped the car four times; the car died on us four times. Unfortunately one of those times was after Marc pushed the car into the middle of a neighboring apartment building’s driveway. Someone called the cops, fearing drug dealers, thieves, or perhaps terrorists. Fortunately, the young policemen were suitably impressed by Marc’s military service and let us get back to the business of jumping the car, again. Most fortunately, the last time the car died, it was already safely in berth. Two cars dead, and an exhausting night. Thankfully, mechanics were able to fix both cars relatively easily.

So, Marc headed off to Oklahoma in our Saturn, complete with his new iPod, one of my graduation gifts to him. His trip there was relatively uneventful, although he did find the mid-western billboards fascinating. As Marc had about a week before FAOBC (Field Artillery Officer Basic Course) classes began, he started some research on a topic of historical military interest and perhaps modern relevance- I’ll let him tell you more about it if he decides to write a paper on the subject. He also purchased and set-up a new computer. Without me around to handle all things electronic, he has become somewhat fascinated with technology.

OBC started about two weeks ago and Marc is enjoying his physical and academic training. He is learning about various types of artillery and had a field training exercise calling for fire from Howitzers. Apparently family members were invited and the booming artillery especially excited the kids. His first test was yesterday and he acquitted himself quite well. For his first physical fitness test, Marc beat his previous high score and earned a 295 out of 300!

Always searching for new challenges, and perhaps spurred on by this accomplishment, Marc elected to do pre-Ranger physical training. Ranger training prepares soldiers for special operations, although many Rangers are in regular units. Ranger training is nine weeks of some of the most demanding work possible. The soldiers are flown all over the US for jungle, mountain, and desert field exercises. To prepare and select officers for Ranger training, the Field Artillery branch requires pre-Ranger training during Officer Basic Course. Completing pre-Ranger training will qualify Marc for Ranger school but not require him to elect Ranger training. So, this choice does not mean Marc will go to Ranger school, but completing the program will enable him to do so, should he so choose.

Although knowing Marc has some free time to join his friends for dinners and movies makes it tougher to be apart, he certainly deserves this break after all the hard work of OCS and a long day of training at OBC. I am very proud of him and what he has accomplished so far. I am sure that whatever comes next, he will do his considerable best for the United States. Although the details of the next few years are sketchy at best, I know that I am grateful for my husband and for friends and family like you.

I’ve been so busy with work, I haven’t been able to give everyone much of an update. To keep myself occupied and involved, I’ve also been serving as one of the leaders of the Family Readiness Group. Just to let you know, though, our Officer Candidate is doing very well.

In mid-February, I flew down to Columbus, GA, for the third time, for Marc’s mid-cycle picnic. I had a great time meeting some of the officer candidates and their family members. The officer candidates were so excited to eat barbeque and junk food. The class organized an activities table for the kids and held a raffle fund-raiser.

The company had their last Field Training Exercise in the middle of a major storm. Despite the pouring rain, Marc still enjoyed his time in the field. Unfortunately, two radios were misplaced during these exercises! Although Marc’s platoon was not responsible for these radios in any way, the entire company had to do a thorough search. This postponed Senior inspection and altered the training schedule. The radios never turned up but everything else seems to have returned to normal. His company just passed Senior Inspection and Marc also passed individually. Thanks to senior privileges, he was able to call today. Marc sounds in high spirits and is looking forward to graduation on April 8th.

I will try to provide more particulars, soon!

Two magnificent weeks with my husband! After spending the holidays with Marc’s family, we flew to Jerez de la Frontera, Spain. We traveled by train and bus throughout Andalucia, practicing our Spanish, visiting cathedrals and mosques, and sampling tapas. From the friendly Barbary apes of Gibraltar, to the pedestrian-friendly streets of Seville, and the beautiful views of Granada, we had a spectacular vacation.

For those who were unable to join us in Manhattan, rest assured that Marc is happy, healthy, and quite shorn. Although we know that his training is transforming him into a warrior, capable of defending our country, Marc remains his congenial self in his personal relationships. Marc has a new address so please e-mail me if you would like to write to him.

On Saturday, January 10, one week after I brought him to the airport, I received my first letters. Marc reports that the beginning of OCS is even more exhausting than the beginning of Basic. There is no free time in this beginning phase. They are not allowed to stay up past lights out and they only have two or three minutes to consume each meal. Officer Candidate School also requires a degree of memorization that even Marc calls “intense.” Marc has additional, time-consuming responsibilities as first squad leader.

Although they are not yet plugged into the demerit system of OCS, candidates are already dropping. Several of Marc’s comrades came back from “Christmas Exodus” with injuries and will be “recycled” into a later class. Another four of Marc’s platoon of 30 did not survive the first PT test. The TAC (Teach, Advise, Counsel — the OCS equivalent of drill sergeants) staff has managed to create enough stress that one female candidate fainted at morning formation.

Our 27-year-old officer candidate performed quite well on his first PT test! In addition to this good news, his squad beat all the other squads in his platoon on the obstacle course. Marc’s wall-jumping ability is improving and he is less bruised than he was last time. His squad faced off against the champions from other squads and won, earning the name “Warrior Squad.” As leader of the Warrior Squad, Marc was called upon to make a brief speech in front of the company.

I will be in touch with more news when Marc is able to write. Best of luck in the New Year and thank you for keeping in touch!

Dear Patient Friends,

As you may have heard, some bad luck has kept me busy these last couple of weeks. My intention to send a last update of Marc’s Basic training was stymied by the need to locate new wheels… My car was stolen right out of my apartment’s parking lot the day after I returned from visiting Marc! Apparently even old, dented Hondas are desirable for their parts. Marc and I are now the proud new owners of an outrageously teal ’93 Saturn, which he has yet to see.

With the car situation settled, I bring you… the completion of Marc’s Basic Training:

As the men reached the end of basic training, many of the rules relaxed. I was able to spend a little more time on the phone with Marc and he was still wonderful about sending me daily letters. His letters have made me feel connected with this part of his life and provided me with something to look forward to every day.

Army life is definitely a different world for Marc. His latest night of “mandatory fun” was a trip to a local high school football game. After warnings about dire consequences if the men did not respect the cheerleaders, they were herded into a stadium to root for the brigade commander’s son. So, Marc enthusiastically supported the Vikings against the other team, also the Vikings.

On October 27, the men completed a “Confidence Course.” Marc identified the highlights as “the Skyscraper, the Weaver, the Zipline Descent, and the ‘Tough One.'” The Skyscraper required Marc’s team of four to form a human pyramid and raise themselves over successively higher platforms. The weaver involved snaking their bodies through the rungs of a log pyramid. For the Zipline, they climbed a tower and then lowered themselves down a steep, diagonal rope. The Tough One involved a series of acrobatic feats at dizzying heights, with only “meager” nets and mats for protection! One challenge involved a 7-foot wall that Marc needed to vault over. Marc says that each challenge looked insurmountable until he conquered it, bringing the promised confidence.

The next day brought more of the sort of training one would expect from boot camp. The men learned about grenade launchers, antitank rocket launchers, claymore mines, and light machine guns and then the fun part- firing the weapons. The weapons produced a satisfying whoosh sound and parachuting airborne trainees provided the perfect background.

Between these two days of hurling himself against walls and firing large weapons, Marc was declared “too bruised to move” by the doctors. Apparently, as the body works to heal bruises, it produces byproducts that the kidneys need to process. Marc was bruised so extensively that the doctor insisted on running tests. The doctor placed him on a three-day no-PT profile. Although the drill sergeants usually give people on PT-profile a hard time, Marc has been so consistent with his physical efforts that the sergeants actually seemed concerned about him. Marc began to do some push-ups and a sergeant walked over and said, “Just don’t blow a gasket.” Despite these problems, on November 1, Marc completed the final PT test with impressive scores. Technically, this test was the last requirement but Field Training Exercises still awaited the men.

To get to the FTX site, the men road-marched 10 miles. Marc carried one of the large Squad Automatic Weapons (SAWs), much to the delight of his fellow soldiers. Impressed by the size of Marc’s, ahem, weapon, they called out such witticisms as, “The defense rests!” Once at the site, the company formed a circle and each platoon prepared to guard a quarter of the perimeter. Marc’s squad leader chose Marc to share the foxhole so someone “squared away” would man the foxhole solo while the squad leader patrolled throughout the night. They dug and chopped through roots with shovels, pickaxes and axes for most of the afternoon and then set up the pup tents.

According to Marc, that evening’s Night Infiltration course was one of the highlights of the training. Again, Marc’s own words convey the most dramatic moments best: “Our entire platoon lined-up in a trench and, on command, hopped over the wall, yelling… [We] began crawling toward a machine gun emplacement that was throwing real bullets at us. We had to keep our heads at 18” above the ground, or below, or else we would be hit. The machine gun spewed tracer bullets, so bolts of red sailed overhead as we frantically crawled the length of a football field. As we moved, explosives also rocked the earth around us, sending showers of dirt flying over us. During the crawl, we had to negotiate barbed wire fields and logs. We scrambled beneath the wire on our backs and slithered over the logs, always maintaining a low profile to avoid enemy fire. It took us about 10 minutes to make our way across the dark field. Whenever a flare went up, we had to freeze so the enemy would not notice our movement and direct fire accordingly.”

The following day, encrusted with dirt, the men dealt with “near” and “far” ambushes during patrol training. Marc was a squad leader in one of these sessions. Once the enemy was spotted, he silently directed the group in a flanking maneuver and poured fire (blanks) on the would-be ambushers. After the patrol training, the men went to a range to practice night fire. Some of their tracer bullets started a fire in the wood behind the targets, producing a dramatic backdrop for their nighttime practice.

Returning to camp at 2000, the men received warning that “enemy units” would be probing their perimeter until dawn. At 2200, Marc’s foxhole companion needed to use the facilities. To provide cover, Marc followed him halfway up the hill and then took a defensive position and waited. Somehow, though, the soldier returned a different way and ended up in another platoon’s perimeter! Marc waited for about 15 minutes and then, when the soldier did not show, returned to his platoon’s area. The soldier was not there, but Marc heard that he had been brought to the drill sergeants. Marc headed to the drill sergeants’ encampment and discovered his companion handcuffed around a tree. The drill sergeants decided that Marc, as the battle buddy of this prisoner, must be an enemy, too! Since he was being treated as an enemy, Marc refused to give up information despite the interrogation techniques of one of the drill sergeants (tightening the handcuffs, shining bright lights in their eyes, etc). So, Marc ushered in his birthday handcuffed to a tree!

After being freed, Marc and the others returned to their camp and raised a raiding party. His battle buddy’s crew provided a distraction and Marc’s crew mowed down the unsuspecting guards and fired into the tents to eliminate the rest. With a real enemy and live ammo, this might have worked. In this case, however, the corpses ignored their recent deaths and surrounded Marc’s crew. The drill sergeant of this platoon, one of Marc’s early captors, exclaimed, “I said I wasn’t going to release you because you’d turn around and attack us. You did. Good stuff.”

On November 5, Marc’s birthday, the men broke camp and killed some time with skits and impersonations. To much amusement, Marc led the company in a song parody he had created. After a night fire training session, the men who completed graduation requirements had their Rite of Passage Ceremony. Judging from Marc’s letter, this is an intense ceremony, with flashing grenades, machine gun bursts, patriotic and “mosh-inducing” music. On this day, my husband officially became a soldier in the US army.

In preparation for graduation, the men acquitted themselves well in a Drill and Ceremony competition. They would have won but their drill sergeant forgot to call out two of the moves. The loss of those points was enough to knock them to second place. The drill sergeant felt terrible — and even did push-ups as penance — but the men were in good spirits nonetheless. The following days mainly involved cleaning in preparation for Fort Benning’s reorganization.

Finally, two months and change after I dropped Marc off in Massachusetts, I was able to see him again. I flew into Atlanta on Tuesday, Nov. 11 and picked up my rental car. At the rental car agency, I ran into an army major who provided all sorts of useful information. After a two-hour drive to Columbus, I checked into the La Quinta hotel.

Early Wednesday morning, I set out to find Fort Benning. At Sand Hill, I waited with other family members for family day ceremonies to begin. Each platoon marched in singing cadences, some funny, some eerie, others downright creepy- “put me in a barber’s chair, spun me round I had no hair; the army life is not style, they’ve got me looking like Gomer Pyle,” “kill the enemy and take his soul, so early in the morning.” I was toward the back and couldn’t even tell Marc apart from the other bald-headed, uniformed men. When the platoons shouted their names, Renegades (Marc’s), Wolf Pack, Mad Dogs, and Rough Riders, I could at least tell which group was Marc’s. After this very brief display, Marc was mine for the day!

I kept double-checking to make sure I had the right soldier. While he wasn’t completely bald, Marc’s “high and tight” haircut made me feel like I had a new husband! The haircut is a lot of fun to touch. Marc also lost a bit of weight and was wearing camouflage throughout family day. Due to too many Vietnam movies, he looked most like a soldier when his dogtags occasionally peaked out of his green shirt. I had rented a car and we set out to explore Columbus. Over the next few days, we covered every inch of the two main blocks of Columbus and the area surrounding our hotel. There is a surprisingly robust counter-culture in the area, and we quickly settled into the local coffee shop, “The Fountain.” The men were not permitted to drink alcohol or smoke so you can imagine how many joined us there for their caffeine fix and internet access. Marc was very excited about this opportunity to drink coffee and read the newspaper. These two blocks also provide barbeque, a brewpub, Caribbean food, a used bookstore (“Judy Bug’s Books,” run by a man who LOVES the Wizard of Oz and can’t wait to travel to New York to see “Wicked”… you connect the dots), and access to the riverwalk and historic district. Outside of these blocks, you can find “Ranger Joe’s” (where we picked up some supplies for Marc); strip malls; and, of course, strip clubs.

Marc’s graduation was a lot shorter than I had anticipated. One of the drill sergeants immediately recognized me (Marc had my pictures up in his locker) and directed me to the best vantage point. We heard the soldiers before we could see them. Finally, they marched onto the blacktop. There were speeches, and a short parade, and then we were allowed to go meet the men. Marc was so handsome in his Class A’s (enlisted formal uniform) and I was so excited to spend a second day with him. I knew I would have to return him again to the barracks at night but after two months I was grateful for anything I could get!

On the third day, I had another taste of the army’s capriciousness. On Friday, Marc needed to report to headquarters and then he was supposed to get a weekend pass. I was not expecting a call until noon but the phone rang at 6:30 am. Marc’s drill sergeant suggested that the presence of a group of anxious wives might speed-up the paperwork. The women arrived to drive the men to headquarters. Just as we were about to leave, a drill sergeant ran out to us to announce that there would be no pass. The men were to report by 1300 hours and then they would be on “lock down” until Christmas exodus. We were in shock. We had no idea why they would do this. The men didn’t even begin OCS until January 5. There seemed to be no possible justification for this decision. Still hopeful that things might change, we left to spend a few more hours with our men and then converged on headquarters at 1300 hours. There were a few jokes about sending one of the officer candidates in first with his newborn baby. The men went to see what the afternoon would bring and the women exchanged contact information. One candidate working at OCS headquarters informed us that there was at least a possibility of seeing the men in the evening on the base. A few of us ran off to the base lodging to get rooms, just in case our men would be allowed to see us but only on the base.

In the end, the candidates were granted their passes, and I spent a heavenly weekend with Marc. One night the OCS candidates and wives/girlfriends went out to a pretty good Mexican restaurant. While we were there, the waitress’s soldier boyfriend proposed! We left her our best wishes and a nice tip. The base lodging turned out to be pretty cheap and I stayed there on my most recent visit as well. The visit ended too soon and I returned to the realities of my empty studio and the unexpected marketability of used Honda parts. I don’t know how I would cope with Marc’s absence and the little obstacles life throws in the way without such wonderful friends and family. Thank you for your understanding and support.

This has been a busy few weeks for Marc and me! I somehow managed to get 125 tenth graders on buses to Westpoint to see “Les Miserables” and got them all back safely. I organized the trip as a favor to a colleague and boy am I glad it is over. Only two more weeks until I see Marc and I am counting down the days.

Marc sent me a loving note for my birthday with pressed little flowers. I asked, “How does a soldier at Basic Training pick flowers?” The answer is, “As discretely as possible.” He looked both ways and then pretended to pick up gum wrappers and other garbage. In addition to my bouquet, I received pictures of my soldier and flag magnets with a space for the picture. My final present arrived today (P/X privileges are limited)- a dog tag inscribed, “I belong to a soldier.” Marc’s birthday is November 5. I wish I could send him something other than letters!

The drill sergeants seem to be relaxing discipline somewhat in these last weeks leading up to graduation. One night during the pennant race, a drill sergeant left a radio in the bay. The poor guys couldn’t get the game to come in properly but, the following morning, they became perhaps the only platoon in the history of Basic Training to listen to NPR’s morning edition. They even have “mandatory fun.” On the 19th, they were marched over to “the Soldiers Show,” song and dance routines performed by various soldiers. The soldiers enjoyed seeing “real live women” (Marc included a string of euphemisms for his compatriots’ reactions) and made various jokes regarding the audition process for male performers functioning as a way to circumvent the “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy. At the show they were also permitted to taste the sweet nectar of soda and the ambrosia of ice cream and Little Caesar’s Pizza. Hopefully the younger soldiers won’t misinterpret these small privileges as a license to cut loose. Already one private smuggled a “USA Today” into the barracks. I can’t believe someone would take a risk like that for a “USA Today!” “The Economist,” maybe… but “USA Today?” A real case of the forbidden fruit being sweeter.

In these last few weeks, the men are learning the skills necessary for their field training exercises. During a one-day session, Marc learned how to construct and camouflage a foxhole; self-camouflage to conceal himself just 30 feet from a group of people; and “bound.” Bounding includes advancing through and over obstacles while your partner covers you. Also on this day, he had to “low crawl” (lying flat on ground and pulling yourself along with one hand as you push with one leg). Many men lost their canteens and had to start the whole course over again. Although this was an exhausting day, this training is closer what Marc and the others imagined when they envisioned Basic.

Marc has also received bayonet training, which consists of attacking target areas framed by rubber silhouettes. Here is an anecdote from a letter: “I low-crawled through the sand toward a wall as another private poured gallons of water on me, turning my approach into a mudpit… I kept moving forward and, despite the drill sergeants’ warnings not to get in the way of the course-goers, this idiot ran into my bayonet as I crawled. He limped away- I think I just ripped his boot and bruised his shin. The Captain yelled down from his perch a top the wall, ‘Lindemann, are you ok?’ I shouted back ‘Sir, yes, sir- but you should ask the other guy.’”

Basic requires that the men reach certain benchmarks for various skills. On October 16, carrying my picture for good luck, Marc earned his marksmanship medal for completing the first of these requirements. After qualifying early in the day, Marc was told to use his “problem-solving abilities” to coach his fellow privates. On the PT tests, Marc is at 97% on the two-mile run, and he is off the charts on sit-ups. With these numbers, he is effortlessly meeting the physical requirements and needs to complete 13 more pushups to qualify for a PT award. Marc has also qualified as a Grenadier [do I hear Tories singing?] and came within one toss of earning Grenadier- First Class. Unfortunately, one of the more exacting drill sergeants claimed that Marc kept his head up a moment too long when he made a perfect toss.

Thank you for your supportive e-mails to me and letters to Marc! Having such great friends really makes this easier. If everything goes as planned, Marc will graduate Basic on November 13. Hopefully he will be able to see those of you in the New York area in December!

Best regards,

Candace