Awareness: A Soldier's Experience
By Terry L. Bryan, Kyoshi
I have traced my family back to 990 A.D. and throughout
the years our family served as soldiers much of the
time. My ancestors fought in the Crusades in the 1200's,
and served against the Scotts during the 1300's. In
the 1500's my ancestors fought beside William the
Conqueror and even served as a bodyguard for King
Henry the 8th. In the 1600's we were sent to America
for taking sides with Ireland. We continued to serve
in the Revolutionary war and the war of northern aggression.
Family members served in all the world wars including
my Grandfather in World War Two and my father in Korea.
I guess it should be no surprise that when I turned
18, I enlisted in the armed forces and headed for
Viet Nam.
I
arrived in Southeast Asia as a19 year old kid and
eventually ended up serving a total of 36 months in
country. I will never forget landing and stepping
off the plane to be hit with enormous heat and the
smell of moisture. Although I had been trained by
the Air Force, I knew that as a K-9 unit, I would
serve with the Army and Marines while there. I was
to pick up my German Shepherd once I arrived and together
we were going to serve our country for a 12-month
tour. I had volunteered for the job, knowing that
there was a bounty on the dog's ears, and my life.
I was told that in order to collect $1,000, which
was a lot of money there, all they had to do was bring
in the dog's ears and the patch off my beret. The
life expectancy for a K-9 unit at that time was less
than 6 months in combat. Having grown up in the hills
of Tennessee, I had hunted all my life and knew the
ways of nature. I had been taught to track and read
signs at an early age, and was perfect for this mission.
The only thing different now was that the hunted shot
back.
The first week was spent getting acclimated to the
weather and for local training. We learned of the
local inhabitants, including the deadliest snakes
in the world.-- King cobras, Pit Vipers, Russell Vipers
and even scorpions that could kill. The deadly two-step
Viper was nicknamed because they estimated that if
you were bit, you would survive about two steps before
falling to the ground dead. This training was extremely
important because my job would be done mostly at night,
patrolling through swamps and jungles.
I distinctly remember my first night alone. I was
delivered to my post shortly after sunset in an area
that I was supposed to patrol, miles away from other
friendly forces. While the two ton truck that delivered
me to my post drove off, my eyes slowly began to develop
night vision and survey my surroundings. The road
I stood on was 3-4 feet above the rest of the fields,
which were rice paddies, completely flooded. The full
moon reflected off the fields of water and soon I
could see well enough to begin my patrol. I checked
my equipment and made sure that I had a round in the
chamber of my GAU-5A, a modified M-16 that I could
shoot with one hand while holding onto my dog with
the other. Later I learned how to use my dog's ears
as a sight, knowing that he would alert on the enemy
and look directly at them, even though I could not
see them. As my dog and I ventured into the water
that lay ahead, I could see the ripples of all the
snakes swimming in front of us, moving away from the
noise we made as we plodded through the muddy field.
Not liking snakes all that well, I felt uneasy as
I ventured into their domain. Later that night, I
took a break and rested on the side of a fallen tree,
wondering if my training in the martial arts would
really help me in this strange land. Within a minute,
we were joined by a cobra, which crawled up the tree
as well. As I looked at him only a few feet away with
his deadly venom, and me with my automatic rifle,
and my dog who seemed to care less about the whole
situation, I began to wonder how or if I would survive
the next year. There was to be a lot of self-reflection
over the next few months, as I spent 8-10 hours every
day alone with my dog. My only contact with the rest
of the world was a small hand held radio that I used
to listen to what was going on, and to check in every
few hours with command post.
I also had a lot of time to think and reflect. I
thought about my martial arts and remembered that
I had heard something about the Shaolin Monks, which
went:
"When looked for, could not be seen,
When listened for, could not be heard,
When felt for, could not be touched,
They were subtle, as in non-existence."
I began to identify these characteristics in the enemy.
They used Zapper teams, to sneak in and blow things
up. These guys were professional warriors, like modern
Ninja who could crawl on their bellies right past
most sentries only few feet away. They found their
way through the most complex trip flares and mine
fields without as much as a sound. The only thing
that could stop these guys were our K-9 teams. I knew
if I was going to survive, that I would have to develop
the ability to "see" and "hear."
I would have to develop the ability to reach out and
"touch" the enemy when I chose to.
We were the eyes and ears of the American forces
at night. Our mission was to locate the enemy, call
it in, and then survive any way we could. We were
to be invisible to the enemy, because we were alone
and could not stand toe to toe in a firefight. Because
of our distance, we would run out of ammo before help
could arrive. We worried as much about friendly fire
as we did the enemy because we were always in the
middle. I cannot explain the helplessness of calling
in a hostile threat, and then hugging the ground as
your own forces use machine gun fire and mortars to
pound the ground all around you. Even empty casings
of illumination rounds will kill you if they hit you.
In order to survive, we learned to enter the jungle
at night and literally disappear until morning.
At first, I relied on my dog entirely. His eyesight
was 300 times better than mine, and he could hear
things well before I could. His sense of smell was
so good that he could detect the enemy up to a mile
away, and simply by watching the way he alerted, I
could tell you whether it was a sniper in a tree or
in a tunnel. My mission was usually the first line
of defense, detecting the enemy before they reached
our forces. At other times, I was responsible for
the safety of a patrol, making sure we didn't walk
into an ambush. Sometimes I just hunted down the enemy
so they would not be a threat to anyone on another
day. Most of the time, I was alone, "me and my
dog," miles away from the help of friendly forces.
Hours alone, listening and watching, was the ultimate
dojo for training in awareness for me.
I soon began to see a development or heightening
of my own awareness and senses. At first the characteristics
that developed were easy to explain. I learned that
when someone was approaching, the insects and other
animals changed their patterns and became intensely
aware of those sounds and movements. I began to watch
the jungle and it began to speak volumes, in a language
that I had not even recognized when I first arrived.
At first the sign of snakes swimming in the rice paddies
was fearful, but later they became friends, telling
me that something was moving closer to me, within
a hundred yards or so. I began to zoom in on a leaf
that was out of place which showed that someone had
been there and maybe had planted a booby trap. Trip
wires, almost undetectable with the naked eye, began
to jump out and I could see them 20-30 feet away.
I even developed my combat sense of smell. At first,
it was just the new guys with their cologne, but later
I began to smell the locals when I was down wind,
their scent unique due to their diet.
Having these new heightened senses, I truly began
to see what others did not see, and heard things that
others only wished they could hear. I learned not
to breathe for a period of time, so that I could detect
others through their own breathing. At times, I felt
I could hear the heartbeat of the enemy, who were
only feet away. I learned that by remaining perfectly
still, people could walk by me only inches away and
not have a clue. To stay motionless as an enemy patrol
goes by is a heart pounding experience to say the
least. It is at times like that when you experience
truly being alive.
The final stage, however, could not be explained
through mere heightened senses. I began to feel what
to do, which way to go, when to stop and when to move.
It was like I had an angel on my shoulder, directing
and guiding me. I found myself living in the zone,
totally aware but on autopilot, simply reacting to
stimuli.
At this point, reflexes are lighting fast and there
is never hesitation in action. The split second you
engage in combat, you strike out against your enemy,
knowing that if you don't, he will. Totally immersed
in the "now" was the only way to survive.
The past was gone and there may be no tomorrow, therefore
you had to totally live in the present, using every
possible method. This heightened sense of awareness
is with you 24 hours of everyday, no matter if you
are awake or asleep.
We had our senpai (a Japanese term meaning senior,
as in training in a martial arts school), those that
had been in country for several months and had survived.
Many of the senior troops would take a rookie on and
try to teach them basic skills to help them survive
their first few months. Others took the attitude of
letting them figure it out themselves, because they
knew that a new guy could get you killed because they
didn't have a clue of what was going on. I ended up
serving 3 tours, or 36 months, in the jungle because
I felt I was saving lives. Not for God and country,
but because I saw the look in these 18 and 19 year
old boys' eyes when they first realized that death
was a reality, and they truly wanted someone to teach
them how to survive.
Most of the soldiers I served with that developed
their awareness to high levels took months before
they could get along again here at home because they
found that they could not communicate about this experience
-- the heightened awareness, the response and how
that change impacts a person at every level of existence.
Unless you have been there, it is hard to explain,
so most just don't talk about it, except with others
who had been there. Those who were martial artists,
came back with a sense of reality that you can still
see if you know what you are looking for. They still
have the ability to flip that switch, and then there
is nobody home, only a warrior waiting to react.
In traditional Japanese martial arts they call total
awareness zanshin. Zanshin is a difficult concept
to understand. Some karate-ka considers zanshin to
be only a physical posture and not expression of attitude.
Zanshin is a heightened state of awareness, which
allows the mind to work without attachment, thus denying
the existence of any weakness. In combat, where split
second reactions mean life or death, there can only
be uninterrupted dominance, both mentally and physically,
over your enemy. This dominance continues well past
the point where many feel the battle is over, and
perpetuates every fiber of one's life. The element
of zanshin that allows a warrior to possess an ever-remaining
alertness, in my opinion, can only be developed and
experienced in combat, or at least in life and death
training.
Over the years, this awareness has deteriorated in
me, or at least has become manifested in different
ways. I do enjoy going out in the woods and seeing
signs that others do not see. I also enjoy watching
others and their non-verbal communication, and take
pride in the fact that most of the time I am able
to see outcomes minutes before they happen. I am also
entertained when I attend referee clinics and hear
them explain why there was no point awarded because
there was no zanshin present. "One must have
the ever remaining mind and never turn his back after
a technique is thrown," is a common statement
at a referee clinic. I can't help but thinking to
myself, "if they only knew."
Let
Us Know Your Comments & Opinions On This Article
About The Author:
Terry Bryan is a disabled Viet Nam veteran, as he
was wounded during his last tour in a rocket attack.
He currently holds an 8th degree black belt in Kojosho
Kempo and a 7th Dan grading through the World Karate
Federation. Over the years he has earned black belt
rankings in other styles as well, including Shaolin
Chuan Fa, Shotokan and Shorin Ryu. He is currently
the executive director for the American Shorin Kempo
Karate Association, a non-profit organization teaching
martial arts and self defense in the Colorado Springs
area. Previously he served as the General Secretary
for the USA-NKF (National Karate Federation), the
official governing body for the sport of karate with
the US Olympic Committee.
Related articles:
Zanshin
Self
Defense Through Awareness
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