In the fall of 2014, I was given the incredible opportunity to try-out for a position in the Army that was like a dream come true for me. The Army was conducting an historic assessment to allow women to go to Ranger School, arguably one of the toughest, most grueling schools available in the Army.
For years, I had talked about women’s rights in the Army being too limiting for the true ability I knew we all possessed. We were still legally not allowed in direct ground combat, and our physical standards were easier than that of our male counterparts. When the call first came via an All Army Message that the Army was looking for females to assist and observe those going through the Ranger School, I was at a time in my career where I could request to attend this school and not hurt myself in my progression. I was very intimidated by the prospect of what this tryout and position may entail for me just to get a ticket in as an observer. I was keenly aware of how unpopular it was going to be among several groups even beyond the military. I almost opted out, but my husband said that I would never live it down if I didn’t seize the moment. Today, I’m so glad I did because it was the highlight of my eight years with the Army, and I was able to watch revolutionary history first hand.
At Fort Benning, GA, the Army Ranger School put me and roughly 60 other women through a mock Ranger Assessment Phase (RAP) week. It was January and cold, and the try-out was really challenging. For the first time in my career, the coolest and toughest women from all branches of the Army surrounded me. Bottom line, I made the cut, and the 32 of us that made it were dispersed to the three different phases of the school-Darby, Mountains, and Swamp phase, in that order-for a total of a 62-day course. I was sent to the mountains, much to my dismay, as heights were not my strong suit.
When I arrived at the Mountain Phase to await the first class of female Ranger students, I was joined by six other female Soldiers, observer/advisors (OAs) as they called us. We watched a few all male classes go through the phase after some additional training, and we began to settle into the small community. The job seemed fairly easy for me; there were not a lot of things going on which we could make an impact, but we wanted to make a good impression since we were the first females in uniform on ground.
At first, I think each one of us had a lot to prove, and our presence around camp made for a great deal of tension. We were not very popular as we signaled an unwanted challenge and burden to the system. I think a few thought the whole experiment would fail and even hoped that none of the female students would get to this phase in the course. Our job was to challenge this culture and prepare for the infrastructural changes that were needed to help the female students adapt. We knew it was going to be no easy task given the steep, hard fought traditions of the elite community. We also had to prepare for the few infrastructural adaptations that needed to occur before the female students arrived.
In the Appalachian Mountains at Camp Frank Merrill, my team of five and I walked the training lanes in the woods, learned the requirements to pass the phase, planned for additional privacy concerns, and embedded in the culture. We talked with the Ranger Instructors, the leaders and the civilian workers in the camp, and helped pave the way for the female students. We counted female hygienic products and waited for guidance from the brigade on any tasks that needed to happen. More intensely we waited for the news of whether any female students were surviving the cut down at the Darby Phase in Fort Benning.
When I first heard the news, it was already late May and only three students of the 19 female students who attempted, had made it to the last portion of Darby Phase.
It wasn’t looking good. The three female students failed their last patrol, and our team braced for the worst.
Had all our efforts really failed? What would this mean for the history of women in the US Army? Heck, what would this mean for women all over the world who were watching? The stakes were incredibly high.
Much to our surprise, the three women were given a second chance as were two men. This was standard procedure. But we feared that there was no way their worn out bodies and possibly broken spirits would be able to start all over and execute the harsh initial phase much less make it through the next two grueling phases. It would be an astonishing feat!
Again to our joy and surprise, they sailed right through to us! I remember the startling revelations I had on the first day they arrived. It was actually hard to spot them among the male students because they had been required to cut their hair to ¼ an inch like the males. I spotted the first one. She was not very tall and she was fairly thin. She had a sharp and tense expression on her face, and she carried her stout build with precision. She was very dirty, as all the students were, but she didn’t appear the least bit tired. Then she had to take off her top duty jacket for the inventor, and I saw cut muscles ripple as she moved around. I thought to myself, who are these tough woman who could bear up under these harsh physical and political conditions? What was it in them that drove them on? Did they know that they were all over the news? Did they know the importance of their every action? Did they know what they meant to us all and what they represented to the rest of the world?
Quickly, I snapped out of my thoughts and saw that the girl was off to the next brief as she disappeared into the herd of soldiers. I went back to my duties and learned that I might have to go deal with the media that were at our gate begging to get in to see the historical moment that was taking place.
The views expressed in this blog are not the views and opinions of the US Army or US Army Ranger School or any Department of Defense or any affiliate organization. All views and opinions are my own.
Continue the story with Part Two of “What It Was Like Watching the First Women Go through Ranger School.”
~Lesley
