No sh*t, there I was: SF stories of mischief and misdeeds
I hope other GBs add theirs. I have many, but here is one:
This is a 7th SFG story, but I will leave out specifics like the batallion and the specific team number.
The CONOP at the Beach:
It was around February 2003, and the attacks of September 11, 2001, were fresh in everyone's minds. At around this same time, Operation Eagle Fury (Feb 9 – Feb 28, 2003) was unfolding in Afghanistan. That specific operation included a 43-hour battle in the village of Lejay involving SFODAs from the 7th SFG and Navy SEAL snipers. At the time, this was cited as one of the longest sustained SOF-led battles of the early war.
Unsurprisingly, SOF funding began to go through the roof, and training concept requests were flooding every battalion operations officer's desk in every SF group. These requests ranged from taking part in courses run by elite shooting schools, taught by top-level IPSC champions, to conducting technical mountaineering training in the Rocky Mountains. As long as these requests were well-written and justified, the funds were made available and the SFODAs would be on their way, oftentimes traveling in nondescript GSA vans and additional rental vehicles.
As far back as January of that year, one of the 7th SFG underwater operations/dive teams submitted a training concept packet (we called them "CONOPs") for tactical and dive training based out of a location in the east-central part of Florida.
The concept was sound; it dovetailed nicely with that SFODA's specialty and "mission letter" requirements. The 10-hour road trip was scheduled to start on Sunday, March 2, with the SFODA departing early in the morning. Back then--I do not know if this has changed--each SFODA had a requirement to make a single SATCOM communications "shot" each day, including a standard situation report ("SITREP") back to higher headquarters using the venerable AN/PSC-5 SATCOM radio. This was an 18-Echo task for which the 18-Alpha was ultimately responsible.
The detachment arrived at its lodging location, sent its requisite commo shot, and called it a day. But...
Unbeknownst to the outside world, the SFODA had maneuvered much closer to Daytona Beach. Coincidentally, its arrival aligned perfectly with the peak of Bike Week. Furthermore, some detachment members appeared to have brought along additional "equipment": Harley-Davidson motorcycles hitched to the GSA van as well as to one detachment member's pick-up truck.
Because Bike Week had all the best lodging occupied, the SFODA settled for the type of place that screams crime. You have all likely seen these motels in most horror movies. They parked the GSA van closest to the ground-level motel room door with the rear doors facing the room. They did have one bit of logistical complexity to solve: what to do with the sensitive items (weapons, ammunition, communication equipment, etc.) if they were all to enjoy their "training" at Bike Week? Ultimately, cooler heads prevailed, and it was decided that the most junior member of the SFODA would not get a chance to attend Bike Week (as it turned out, it was the 18-Echo; it usually is the 18-Echo for some reason).
So, in the afternoon, the men who brought along their Harleys changed into the appropriate "biker" attire: leather chaps and biker-appropriate "cuts." It was decided that leaving the sensitive items in the van was not safe. Thus, as any reasonable, seasoned SFODA worth its salt would do, they began to transfer these items from the van into the motel room in broad daylight... while wearing "biker" attire.
As this took place, there was an observant citizen taking note of the black boxes being transferred from this nondescript van into a cheap motel room by these "bikers." Then, to that citizen's horror, she began to see automatic weapons and rifles being moved in.
The detachment, its equipment consolidation now complete, departed for its Bike Week adventure sans its 18-Echo, who was relegated to staying in the rear with the gear in relative tranquility.
That is, of course, until the SWAT team showed up hours later. The rest is 7th SFG lore and legend. Some say that the 18-Echo kept the SWAT team in a four-hour standoff. Others say that he came out, hands up, crying. Others still, claim that his ghost still haunts that very motel room, even though the guy is clearly still alive today.
After this, all SFODAs (including mine) were literally read the "riot act" before going on a CONOP anywhere. Also, we were required to send that commo shot with the inclusion of a photograph taken at our actual location.