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BigBen · 03-11-2005, 07:57 AM

Winter Indoctrination in the CANADIAN ARMY:

Or: You think you are cold? Shut up. Never say that again.

As soon as weather permits, new soldiers are taken on Winter Indoctrination (Winter Indoc) training. They learn how not to die in extreme cold weather, and how to keep being a soldier when all you want to do is fall down and die.

January 1994: It was cold. I mean about -30c, and the wind chill was not great. We don’t usually talk about the wind chill, because first thing it is depressing, and you want to keep spirits high, and second, after a certain temperature, all you need to know is: Your Skin (exposed) Will Freeze In Less Than 1 Minute.

We packed our gear properly, obeying all of our orders. Looking around for 5 minutes for a clean pair of socks could cost you a toe, and therefore knowing where everything was at was important. There is a sense of urgency that happens at -40c, but I think that it is mainly to keep everyone active and moving (and thus warm).

The rules of wearing clothing is simple: COLD
Clean
Overlapping
Layered
Dry

This acronym is intended to make the simple minds remember that there was a reason for dressing the way we do (and the army has a love affair with acronyms. If you don’t have a 3 letter acronym to describe something, you should feel shame). And if you have seen the clothes in the Army Surplus stores, yes Canada has some serious cold weather gear. They tell us that all our stuff is rated to -60c, but at -45c you start to question: What is a soldier rated to?

We pack our stuff into toboggans, either 5 or 10 man versions. The tents are lined, and the “old guys” were fretting with one piece of string, then another, then taping these two things together, then inspecting every tooth on the zipper door. I had no idea what they were doing. It looked like a big pile of cloth and string, with metal spikes taped here and there. We spent HOURS on the Coleman lanterns and stoves, cleaning, taking them apart, putting them back together, cleaning them again. We did all of this stuff indoors on the parade square, and it looked like a green-and-white cloth bomb had went off. I was confused. Imagine what happened next when the Sergeant took us new guys off to the side and handed us a box of CONDOMS. “Here, you’ll need these.” I didn’t see any female soldiers around, and being the ‘new guy’ in my 5-man tent group brought a tear to my eye. Oh shit. I wonder if I can accidentally break my neck to get out of this?

Loaded on trucks and driven off to the wilderness, I was actually quite warm. I had about 6 layers of clothes on, and although it was -30, I was doing okay. Hey, I can handle this…

We got out into the middle of nowhere and put our snowshoes on. It takes a while to put them on and learn how to walk so you don’t trip and fall, but once you have that wide-stance hop step thing down, it is easy. We have to pull the toboggans ourselves, using harnesses appropriately called “Dog Harnesses” since we look like a dog-sled team. The jokes would go back and forth,
“Hey bitch, pull your weight..”
“Look at the cute puppy…” I was getting scared about those condoms again.
“Mush you ungrateful beasts…” and so on, until the atmosphere was pretty relaxed. We worked on a buddy system, and every time we stopped for a smoke break, we had to check our buddy for frost-bite and other weather related fatigue. We had to drink lots of water, even though we weren’t thirsty. Dehydration in winter conditions can be worse than the summer time (yeah, right…).

When we got to our spot (about 7 hours of walking, no real meal yet) everything started to come together. All of the old guys started doing their jobs without anyone saying anything, and it looked incredible. The tent was set up in about 5 minutes flat, and it looked like a palace. Once inside, I saw someone light the lantern and stove in 10 seconds, and put some ice on to make coffee. We were doing really well. I set my sleeping bag (two goose down bags, with a cotton liner) up and inflated my air mattress. Someone said that if the bag deflated in the night and I accidentally slept on the cold ground, I wouldn’t wake up. I would just drift peacefully into death. That scared me a little bit, but then the old guys laughed, so I did too.

The next couple of days we made improvised shelters, kind of like igloos (but not really) and we navigated in winter terrain, we pulled those damn sleds until we were tired, then we would do it some more. I realized that there was good reason that Canada was so big yet so peaceful: No military in the world, except maybe Greenland and the USSR could survive in crap like this. Who would want this tundra? Surveyors and prospectors just said to us, “Naw, that’s okay, you guys keep it.”

The weather turned ugly after a couple of days of sun and -25/-30 temps, and we wondered why the schedule was all fucked up. CBC was supposed to send a camera crew out and some photographers out to do one of those “Hey, you think you are cold? There are guys LIVING OUTSIDE RIGHT NOW” stories, to make the civilians feel better about the weather. We had all of this stuff put up and we had shelters dug, we had weapons in hand, but where was the news crew?

The Sergeant spoke up after listening to the radio. “They aren’t coming. The truck froze up overnight and the film in their cameras snapped in the cold. Sorry guys, none of you are ever getting famous.”
An old guy spoke up “Hold on, sergeant, how fucking cold is it out here?” We weren’t allowed to ask that question (bad for morale) and we were also not allowed to have a thermometer with our kit (bad for morale). I really hadn’t noticed it get that much colder, but that was also a sign of frostbite. My ears perked up.
The sergeant grumbled, “the thermometer is broke at Range Control. They don’t know how cold it is either.” Lie. You could tell.

The wind got worse and worse until we were in a classic Canadian blizzard. You couldn’t see the hand in front of your face, and we had to ‘tie in’ to each other, to keep from losing the group. We hunkered down in the tent, kept warm as best we could, and were ordered not to leave the tent for any reason.

The Arctic Turnip: A rare vegetable, eaten by Caribou? No dear reader; continue on.
When you are in your sleeping bag, in a tent in the middle of nowhere, in a blizzard and you have to piss: take a condom, put it on, piss in the condom, tie it off, and throw it out the door of the tent. When you wake up in the morning, there are a bunch of arctic turnips (frozen bags of piss) waiting for you to dispose of. Hey, it works. I was also relieved in the alternate use.

Being the new guy, I had to go outside and re-fuel the stove and lantern when they ran out. For safety reasons, fuel is not stored in the tent. I got dressed in my gear (about a 10 minute production: 1. put on a layer of clothing 2. shiver until you warm up 3. repeat step 1) and I tied off on the tent pole in the middle of the tent. I knew that the fuel pile was about 10m away on the left side of the door, but I had to search back and forth. I put the funnel in the stove fuel canister, took the Naptha (white gas / Coleman fuel) and tipped the fuel can to pour. Nothing happened. I shook the can, and it was heavy. I SQUEEZED the fuel container, and a glob of fuel landed in the funnel, like toothpaste. I freaked out. I didn’t know what to do. I ran back and got the Warrant from the other tent. “Warrant! The fuel is frozen!” I screamed over the wind.
“Fuck off kid. It’s too cold to play games. Get out there and do your job.”
“I AM SERIOUS. I CAN’T FILL THE FUEL TANKS.”
“If I go out there and you are lying to me, I swear to god you are fucking dead.” Although I had been threatened like that before in the army dozens of times, I knew that this was one of the rare occasions where he was serious.
It took him 10 minutes to get dressed, and during that time I lit a smoke and wondered what we were going to do. If you can light a smoke in a Canadian blizzard, you are CANADIAN. I walked him over to the fuel pile and demonstrated that the fuel had turned to toothpaste. He looked like I had punched him in the stomach. “Take the fuel back to your tent, but keep it as far as you can from the stove and lantern. If you run out of fuel before this stuff thaws, come to our tent.” And then he said to himself under his breath, “40 below my ass…”

I learned later that it was -64 that night, but Range Control kept telling us that everything was okay, no need to worry, it was only -40. I have never complained about the cold since. People tell me its chilly outside once in a while, and I just smile. I don’t even want to tell them what it feels like to be cold. They wouldn’t appreciate it.

03-11-2005, 07:57 AM	#42 (permalink)
BigBen Comedian Location: Use the search button	Winter Indoctrination in the CANADIAN ARMY: Or: You think you are cold? Shut up. Never say that again. As soon as weather permits, new soldiers are taken on Winter Indoctrination (Winter Indoc) training. They learn how not to die in extreme cold weather, and how to keep being a soldier when all you want to do is fall down and die. January 1994: It was cold. I mean about -30c, and the wind chill was not great. We don’t usually talk about the wind chill, because first thing it is depressing, and you want to keep spirits high, and second, after a certain temperature, all you need to know is: Your Skin (exposed) Will Freeze In Less Than 1 Minute. We packed our gear properly, obeying all of our orders. Looking around for 5 minutes for a clean pair of socks could cost you a toe, and therefore knowing where everything was at was important. There is a sense of urgency that happens at -40c, but I think that it is mainly to keep everyone active and moving (and thus warm). The rules of wearing clothing is simple: COLD Clean Overlapping Layered Dry This acronym is intended to make the simple minds remember that there was a reason for dressing the way we do (and the army has a love affair with acronyms. If you don’t have a 3 letter acronym to describe something, you should feel shame). And if you have seen the clothes in the Army Surplus stores, yes Canada has some serious cold weather gear. They tell us that all our stuff is rated to -60c, but at -45c you start to question: What is a soldier rated to? We pack our stuff into toboggans, either 5 or 10 man versions. The tents are lined, and the “old guys” were fretting with one piece of string, then another, then taping these two things together, then inspecting every tooth on the zipper door. I had no idea what they were doing. It looked like a big pile of cloth and string, with metal spikes taped here and there. We spent HOURS on the Coleman lanterns and stoves, cleaning, taking them apart, putting them back together, cleaning them again. We did all of this stuff indoors on the parade square, and it looked like a green-and-white cloth bomb had went off. I was confused. Imagine what happened next when the Sergeant took us new guys off to the side and handed us a box of CONDOMS. “Here, you’ll need these.” I didn’t see any female soldiers around, and being the ‘new guy’ in my 5-man tent group brought a tear to my eye. Oh shit. I wonder if I can accidentally break my neck to get out of this? Loaded on trucks and driven off to the wilderness, I was actually quite warm. I had about 6 layers of clothes on, and although it was -30, I was doing okay. Hey, I can handle this… We got out into the middle of nowhere and put our snowshoes on. It takes a while to put them on and learn how to walk so you don’t trip and fall, but once you have that wide-stance hop step thing down, it is easy. We have to pull the toboggans ourselves, using harnesses appropriately called “Dog Harnesses” since we look like a dog-sled team. The jokes would go back and forth, “Hey bitch, pull your weight..” “Look at the cute puppy…” I was getting scared about those condoms again. “Mush you ungrateful beasts…” and so on, until the atmosphere was pretty relaxed. We worked on a buddy system, and every time we stopped for a smoke break, we had to check our buddy for frost-bite and other weather related fatigue. We had to drink lots of water, even though we weren’t thirsty. Dehydration in winter conditions can be worse than the summer time (yeah, right…). When we got to our spot (about 7 hours of walking, no real meal yet) everything started to come together. All of the old guys started doing their jobs without anyone saying anything, and it looked incredible. The tent was set up in about 5 minutes flat, and it looked like a palace. Once inside, I saw someone light the lantern and stove in 10 seconds, and put some ice on to make coffee. We were doing really well. I set my sleeping bag (two goose down bags, with a cotton liner) up and inflated my air mattress. Someone said that if the bag deflated in the night and I accidentally slept on the cold ground, I wouldn’t wake up. I would just drift peacefully into death. That scared me a little bit, but then the old guys laughed, so I did too. The next couple of days we made improvised shelters, kind of like igloos (but not really) and we navigated in winter terrain, we pulled those damn sleds until we were tired, then we would do it some more. I realized that there was good reason that Canada was so big yet so peaceful: No military in the world, except maybe Greenland and the USSR could survive in crap like this. Who would want this tundra? Surveyors and prospectors just said to us, “Naw, that’s okay, you guys keep it.” The weather turned ugly after a couple of days of sun and -25/-30 temps, and we wondered why the schedule was all fucked up. CBC was supposed to send a camera crew out and some photographers out to do one of those “Hey, you think you are cold? There are guys LIVING OUTSIDE RIGHT NOW” stories, to make the civilians feel better about the weather. We had all of this stuff put up and we had shelters dug, we had weapons in hand, but where was the news crew? The Sergeant spoke up after listening to the radio. “They aren’t coming. The truck froze up overnight and the film in their cameras snapped in the cold. Sorry guys, none of you are ever getting famous.” An old guy spoke up “Hold on, sergeant, how fucking cold is it out here?” We weren’t allowed to ask that question (bad for morale) and we were also not allowed to have a thermometer with our kit (bad for morale). I really hadn’t noticed it get that much colder, but that was also a sign of frostbite. My ears perked up. The sergeant grumbled, “the thermometer is broke at Range Control. They don’t know how cold it is either.” Lie. You could tell. The wind got worse and worse until we were in a classic Canadian blizzard. You couldn’t see the hand in front of your face, and we had to ‘tie in’ to each other, to keep from losing the group. We hunkered down in the tent, kept warm as best we could, and were ordered not to leave the tent for any reason. The Arctic Turnip: A rare vegetable, eaten by Caribou? No dear reader; continue on. When you are in your sleeping bag, in a tent in the middle of nowhere, in a blizzard and you have to piss: take a condom, put it on, piss in the condom, tie it off, and throw it out the door of the tent. When you wake up in the morning, there are a bunch of arctic turnips (frozen bags of piss) waiting for you to dispose of. Hey, it works. I was also relieved in the alternate use. Being the new guy, I had to go outside and re-fuel the stove and lantern when they ran out. For safety reasons, fuel is not stored in the tent. I got dressed in my gear (about a 10 minute production: 1. put on a layer of clothing 2. shiver until you warm up 3. repeat step 1) and I tied off on the tent pole in the middle of the tent. I knew that the fuel pile was about 10m away on the left side of the door, but I had to search back and forth. I put the funnel in the stove fuel canister, took the Naptha (white gas / Coleman fuel) and tipped the fuel can to pour. Nothing happened. I shook the can, and it was heavy. I SQUEEZED the fuel container, and a glob of fuel landed in the funnel, like toothpaste. I freaked out. I didn’t know what to do. I ran back and got the Warrant from the other tent. “Warrant! The fuel is frozen!” I screamed over the wind. “Fuck off kid. It’s too cold to play games. Get out there and do your job.” “I AM SERIOUS. I CAN’T FILL THE FUEL TANKS.” “If I go out there and you are lying to me, I swear to god you are fucking dead.” Although I had been threatened like that before in the army dozens of times, I knew that this was one of the rare occasions where he was serious. It took him 10 minutes to get dressed, and during that time I lit a smoke and wondered what we were going to do. If you can light a smoke in a Canadian blizzard, you are CANADIAN. I walked him over to the fuel pile and demonstrated that the fuel had turned to toothpaste. He looked like I had punched him in the stomach. “Take the fuel back to your tent, but keep it as far as you can from the stove and lantern. If you run out of fuel before this stuff thaws, come to our tent.” And then he said to himself under his breath, “40 below my ass…” I learned later that it was -64 that night, but Range Control kept telling us that everything was okay, no need to worry, it was only -40. I have never complained about the cold since. People tell me its chilly outside once in a while, and I just smile. I don’t even want to tell them what it feels like to be cold. They wouldn’t appreciate it. __________________ 3.141592654 Hey, if you are impressed with my memorizing pi to 10 digits, you should see the size of my penis.