Attacking Fort Henry

How many of you grew up playing “guns” or “soldier” or “war”? Close you eyes and try and remember what that felt like. The adrenaline of victory, the fear of being captured and tortured with wet-willy’s, the anticipation of the unknown.

Maybe you’ll recall a hot summer day that was fading to evening where the humidity made it feel like you were stalking through some foreign jungle looking for booby-traps? Or was it a late fall afternoon where the leaves on the ground, still stiff from the first frost, seemed to crunch and echo like thunder with every step as you moved into position for an ambush?

What were you carrying? Was it a stick, a homemade wooden gun, a super soaker, a plastic cap gun, or a real BB or pellet gun?

These feelings and games we played as kids, the drive to simulate war and win, must spawn from somewhere deep in our brain. A throwback, perhaps, to times where survival of the fittest, strongest and fiercest was a real thing. It has to be or why else is it so universal?

It doesn’t go away when a person joins the military. In fact “war games” and exercises are just large scale and expensive versions of the games we played as kids. The stakes are higher, the games are more realistic and there is repeated and reinforced encouragement along with reward and promotion for those who become proficient at them. It should come as no surprise to anyone then that these games and desire to succeed at them spills over into a CAF members life outside of work. Often it is incorporated into their days off…sometimes productively like increased physical activity, but also in other more mischievous ways, which if combined with alcohol, can lead to some pretty amusing anecdotes.

The story below is just such a tale. It was submitted by MWO (Ret) Douglas Bannerman of Perth, On. and I hope you enjoy reading it.

All the best,

John

——————————————————————————————————

Attacking Fort Henry

TQ 3 training at CFSCE, CFB Kingston 72.

A common pastime during weekends at the school was to cross the border and go drinking in Watertown N.Y.

Close to the Ontario border was an American fireworks outlet. Naturally for us 18 and 19 year olds, this was a very attractive store to investigate. One weekend right after pay parade, (yes, in those days, pay parade was a fact of service life), we decided, with pockets full of two dollar bills, to fulfill our dreams of buying as many fireworks our young minds could imagine.

Back on base, with a trunk load of Pinwheels, Astroboys, Super Sonic Bangers, Roman Candles, ect. we retired to the mess to discuss how we could make good use of our new found treasure. After quite a few beers with dark rum chasers it was decided to differ the decision until the next day and take advantage of attending the sunset ceremony that night at Old Fort Henry.

Being 'old salts' with 7 months service we were obligated to critique the dress and deportment of the Fort Henry Guards and were doing a bang up job of it until a supervising guard told us in no uncertain terms to, (and I'm paraphrasing) "to stop talking and kindly leave the premises". Back in the mess commiserating with more beer and dark rum chasers, and I believe some tequila was involved also, we lamented on how horribly we were treated by the guard and determined that we should revenge our honor and declare full on war against Fort Henry.

Planning our strategy over a couple of bottles of dark rum and tequila purchased from a sympathetic bartender in the mess, we departed our RP at about 4am and slowly, quietly and drunkenly made our way up the hill to the fort with all of our newly purchased treasures.

At a sufficient distance from the fort walls we let loose with our first barrage of Astroboys and Sonic Booms. Glorious balls of red and green balls of fire rained down above the parade square while fountains of silver fire crested the fort walls. This was then followed by a couple of dozen bangers and chains of crackers which echoed thunderously within the stone walls.

By this time we started to hear doors slamming and voices of the guards, so we redoubled our barrage of fireworks until we heard the voice on the Guard RSM rise above the din and order the guard out through the main gate to apprehend the @#$% assholes outside.

This and seeing flashing red lights coming from both the base and downtown Kingston, we put into operation our nonexistent retreat plan. As one we all ran back down the hill towards RMC, abandoning the remainder of our ammo and plunging into the bay. Sobering up immediately in the cold water, we stealthy waded and swam around the point and after a lengthy journey emerged at the base swimming beach.

Arriving finally, cold, wet and victorious to our barracks, we finished what was left of the rum and tequila and slept the sleep of true warriors.