Imagine riding in a vehicle with a blindfolded driver. You can only guide him by voice. Not only is the driver blind, but its dark. The road you are on is one you've never traveled. Completely unfamiliar to you. Now add the possibility of bad guys with guns and rocket propelled grenades. Oh, and don't forget the roadside bombs, and the enormous blast craters in the road. The vehicle your in has virtually no armor. You have ten miles to travel..
The trip required me to TC a track vehicle to one of our patrol bases. TC means truck/track commander. Make no mistake, I am no commander. There were just two of us in the vehicle, myself and the driver. As TC my job is to maintain radio contact with the rest of the convoy, guide the driver, and scan for threats.
The driver's seat is on the front left. If it were an automobile he would be directly behind the left front headlight. His vision is limited because of his location in the track. To his right is the enormous engine compartment. Therefore he can only see whats on his left and straight ahead. The right side is a huge blindspot. The driver must be made aware of any obstacles or dangers that he just cannot see. Hence, a TC is required

"Too easy", I thought. Then I heard the next instructions. "All driver's hatches will remain closed after blackout status". The driver, Chase, looked at me with an expression on his face that I can only describe as "oh crap".

Now, I do not drive tracks. I never even ride in them. Every single mission I have ever been on has been in my Hum-v as the gunner. So I had no clue what was on Chase's mind. I just gave him a nod of assurance, and gestured with a shrug as if to say "don't worry about it, Bro". If I knew then what I know now, I would've been worried too. Ignorance truly is bliss.

The problem with driving a track with the hatch shut is visibility. There are only three small rectangular windows to peer through, and they are parascopic. Even in broad daylight operating this type of vehicle with the hatch down is a challenge. At night with headlights on its even harder. Using night vision goggles to look through a three inch by nine inch rectangle? Well, thats no fun at all. Especially in combat.

The logic behind the decision to close the hatches is legitimate. IED's are the threat. If an explosion occurs on the right it will most likely be absorbed by the engine block. However, one on the left will not. Now if the hatch is open, there is absolutely nothing between the projectiles and the driver. The result is unthinkable. Hatches shut.

As TC, I ride standing with my upper-body outside the track. Directly behind me the hatch lid stands open and locked. In front of me are panes of bullet-proof glass. Honestly, I prefer my turret in my Hum-v. In my truck I ride down in the turret seat, and I can rotate 360 degrees with my weapon mounted. Not to mention the new up-armor hummers are much tougher. Nevertheless, a mission is a mission. We do what we have to.

The march went as scheduled until that first turn, and we went black. To my horror Chase had neither adjusted, nor even attempted to mount his NOD's before we rolled out, despite his visual concerns. I was furious, but then I've been outside many times and know what to expect. Chase had been outside the wire pryor to that night only once. At the time I did not know that, so I blasted him with some serious threats that I cannot repeat here. I mean, my Mom reads these, you know?

My little rampage on the intercom only lasted a few seconds. There simply was no time to waste. My driver was blind, and we were on the move. I immediately began guiding him by voice. "Left, left, left. Ok, straight. Good. Right. Right. Straight, straight. OK, left...and so on. I was pulling triple duty up there. Guide the driver, scan for possible IEDs', and watch for shooters. Now, I tried, but I just could not scan around. I took my eyes off the road twice, and both times when I looked back we were on the shoulder. That is not a good place to be to say the least. I guided him back on course quickly, and decided to completely devote myself to "sun-roof driving". After all, we had a better chance with the bullets than the bombs.

Back on the road, we approached some blast points. These craters are created by the IEDs', and also make good hiding spots for new ones. Our forces just cannot fill in the holes fast enough. An IED in one of these craters is extremely deadly because there is nothing covering it. Buried ones have to blast through some earth before they reach their target. The ones in the craters do not. Just a clean and lethal explosion. Its common sense to drive around them, and give them a wide birth. Yet, Chase could not see them! I remember one short conversation on the intercom very well.

"Chase, go right buddy. Crater. Big crater. Little more right, man. Right Chase. Right...right!Right! Oh crap, crap, crap, crap,crap!" Our left track passed directly over the hole. Chase was oblivious. "Tate, you ok?" I told him we had just driven over a hole he could park his pick-up in. Blissfully ignorant of the danger he said, "that big, huh?" I continued, "yeah Bud it was. Left, left. Ok, straight...

The full measure of our predicament was realized toward the end of the march. God love him, Chase got his left and right confused. Now keep in mind, I,ve been shouting left and right in his ears for the past half hour. Its amazing to me that he did so well for so long. Yet, it was just a matter of time before "Murphy" showed up. I told Chase to go left four times, and each time he was going right. Finally I shouted, "left!!!" He yelled back "I am going left!". I screamed, "your other left!" In that exact moment our track was headed due east. The convoy was going due north. We were completely off the road, and driving straight toward a small river that paralleled the route. I ordered Chase to stop, and radioed ahead. "Three alpha, this is two three. Slow your rate of march we have fallen behind." I did'nt bother telling them we had stopped. Let alone that we were off the road! Patiently, and without yelling I guided Chase back to the road. Once we were back on I sai d, "OK, Bro, haul ass!"

There were vehicles behind us too. To my surprise when we stopped they were not even in sight. Apparently they were having similar issues as well. So Chase and I lucked out. No one was hurt, and nobody saw us. We simply rejoined the group as if nothing had happened.

Once we finally reached our destination, Chase and I got out and shook hands. I told him he did a great job considering the circumstances. Then I said, "if you ever skip pre-mission checks and get me into something like this again, I will stop the convoy. Then I'll have the guys pull security while I tear you out the frame.Got it?" Honestly though, I don't think I scared him anywhere near as bad as that trip did.