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					Caught between an ad hoc base camp on the frozen arctic 
					shelf and the promise of warm shelter at the Alaska Army 
					National Guard armory in Barrow, 1st Lt. James Tollefson 
					peered out of the iced-over windshield of the tracked 
					Small-Unit Support Vehicle he was piloting. 
					Though it was early April, arctic spring conditions served 
					up temperatures of 5 below combined with 35-mph sustained 
					winds and gusts of 50 mph, making for a windchill of 38 
					below. 
					Whiteout conditions blowing sugary, stingingly cold snow 
					masked deep ruts, ditches and snowdrifts. Tollefson was 
					driving practically blind and couldn't see the path through 
					the arctic shelf that would lead him and his passengers to 
					safety. 
		
			|  A Soldier belonging to Headquarters and Headquarters Company, 297th 
			Battlefield Surveillance Brigade, braves whiteout conditions, April 
			4, 2016, in a field near Barrow, Alaska. Blowing snow, often moving 
			at up to 50 mph, made navigations and operations difficult during 
			the daylong trek through the arctic. (U.S. Army National Guard photo 
			by Sgt. David Bedard) ... More photos 
			after article
 |  
					Life immediately outside the heated confines of the SUSV was 
					foreboding to say the least. He couldn't go back and moving 
					forward seemed, in the moment, a harrowing task. How was the 
					officer going to find his way through the swirling white 
					abyss?
 
					Arctic Training ... Actually 
					In 
					late March, a platoon from Headquarters and Headquarters 
					Company, 297th Battlefield Surveillance Brigade, boarded an 
					Air Force C-17 Globemaster III, stuffing SUSVs in the cargo 
					hold of the bird in the process.Their destination was 
					Barrow, the country's northern-most town. Their mission was 
					to participate in Alaska Shield 2016, a scenario-based 
					training exercise partnering with local and state agencies, 
					before huddling in and around the Barrow armory for arctic 
					training.
 
					Capt. Ronald Desjardin, HHC, 297th BFSB 
					commander, summed up the value of training hundreds of miles 
					from most of the Soldiers' homes. 
					“This has truly been 
					arctic training,” he explained. “One of the side missions 
					here is we wanted to test our equipment ... It's been awesome 
					to see the equipment function well in this harsh 
					environment. It's worse than we thought it was going to be. 
					It's really, really cold.” 
					The first full day of arctic 
					training saw temperatures dipping to 15 below with 25-mph 
					winds. Faces, the only visible skin of Soldiers, quickly 
					turned cherry red under the unrelenting assault of the 
					world's largest air conditioner.Soldiers circled around 
					Spc. David Smart, 1st Battalion (Airborne), 143rd Infantry 
					Regiment, who is an expert in cold-weather and arctic 
					operations due to his attendance at U.S. Army Alaska's Cold 
					Weather Leaders Course at the Northern Warfare Training 
					Center near Fort Greely.
 
					The soft-spoken airborne 
					infantryman said – though he had never been north of the 
					Arctic Circle – the conditions weren't that different than 
					where he grew up in Hooper Bay, a Yupik village in Western 
					Alaska. The comment belied his familiarity with thriving in 
					temperatures many would find oppressive. 
					Smart talked 
					students through packing and unpacking a 10-man tent, which 
					looks more like a parachute than any sort of shelter. It's 
					important to put it away just right, he said, and to bundle 
					the guy lines in a particular arrangement. To do otherwise 
					risks Soldiers clumsily fiddling with the only item that can 
					shield them from subzero temperatures. Smart showed 
					Soldiers how to install the Space Heater Arctic into the 
					tent, its smoke stack sticking conspicuously out the top of 
					the shelter. The heater runs on just about anything that 
					burns, be it wood or military-grade diesel.
 
 
					On The 
					Move 
					On the other side of the armory grounds, fellow 
					1-143rd Soldier Staff Sgt. Paul Norwood taught his students 
					the more glamorous side of arctic operations, namely 
					movement. 
					Though he resides in Sitka, Norwood is a native 
					of Paris, France. His French lilt hasn't diminished despite 
					years in America. During his classes, he imparted a 
					characteristically Continental European sense of humor, 
					drawing laughs as much for his alien sensibilities as for 
					his wry wit. 
					The sergeant showed Soldiers how to traverse 
					the arctic with everything they need to survive: skis, 
					snowshoes, and an ahkio sled burdened with the 
					aforementioned tent and oven as well as enough food and 
					water to keep a squad in the field for several days. 
					Students hooked up to the ahkio like Siberian huskies. At 
					first, their attempts to coordinate the movement of the 
					heavy sled were met with decidedly awkward results, but soon 
					they mastered moving their source of shelter, sustenance and 
					warmth like pros, calling out turn commands to one another 
					in anticipation of obstacles. 
					After weeks of training at 
					home station and a bitterly cold day of practicum, the 
					Soldiers of HHC were ready to head out onto the arctic shelf 
					to put their skills to the frigid test.
 
					It Takes All Kinds 
					Desjardin said brigade leadership task-organized 
					HHC's platoon to operate autonomously during their two-week 
					annual training. As such, the small unit of 48 Army 
					Guardsmen included mechanics, signal Soldiers and medical 
					personnel. 
					One mechanic, 56-year-old Sgt. Kenneth Foytik, 
					found his way to Barrow by way of a circuitous years-long 
					route. He joined the Air Force in 1978 where he worked as a 
					power-production specialist, essentially an expert of 
					engines who stays on the ground and supports aircraft. 
					Foytik served for nearly nine years before taking off the 
					blue suit and rejoining civilian life. It was another 21 
					years before he would look at undertaking the military 
					lifestyle again.  
					Because he was 50, he was too old for 
					active-duty Air Force service. As it turned out, Foytik 
					found a home in the Army National Guard. 
					He had to start 
					all over again, attending basic training and advanced 
					individual training for military occupational speciality 
					91B, wheeled-vehicle mechanic. Nothing in his training 
					prepared him for anything as odd as the SUSV.The SUSV is 
					a tracked, two-carriage vehicle well-suited for Army service 
					in Alaska. Though it has tracks, it is no tank. What it 
					lacks in armor and firepower, it makes up for in mobility. 
					As long as Foytik and his fellow mechanics kept it in ship 
					shape, it could power through waist-deep snow in the coldest 
					of conditions.
 
					The platoon relied on the SUSV's 
					capability to negotiate drifts to get them to arguably the 
					toughest day of annual training.
 
					Blinding Snow 
					When HHC Soldiers arrived at their training site about 5 
					kilometers south of Barrow, the sun was shining.The 
					platoon quickly went about setting up their 10-man tent, 
					just as Smart had trained them. Unsheltered from 35-mph 
					winds, the task proved more difficult than it had at the 
					armory. Still, the platoon managed, motivated no doubt by a 
					desire to get out of the cold.
 
					For training value and 
					because the tent wasn't large enough to shelter everyone, 
					Soldiers dug field-expedient snow shelters.  
					An hour into 
					their bivouac, the wind shifted direction and picked up a 
					torrent of grainy snow, which got into every crevice of Army 
					equipment. Cached rucks and helmets got coated, inundated 
					with the frozen stuff. Face masks quickly became useless as 
					breath melted caked-on snow. Goggles fogged up and became 
					equally useless. 
					Still, the Soldiers shoveled on and they 
					soon found refuge in their frozen caves. Sheltering the 
					troops from the withering wind, the improvised caves also 
					offered the added benefit of warm air rising from the 
					ground.  
					Once the Soldiers gained confidence in their 
					ability to survive such a frigid ordeal, Desjardin ordered 
					them to demolish their now-prized shelters. They were going 
					back to the armory. It wasn't cold enough to cancel tough 
					daytime training, but it was cold enough to preempt a night 
					sleeping under the drive of 50-mph snow. 
					The Value of 
					Training 
					Facing a three-dimensional abyss of swirling 
					white, Tollefson wasn't vanquished in his task of getting 
					his SUSV and passengers back to the armory. He had his 
					training and the equipment necessary to navigate through. 
					He had his Defense Advanced GPS Receiver loaded with 
					waypoints. He had a radio to call the armory or back to the 
					camp. Most importantly, he had his fellow Soldiers operating 
					the other SUSV he was rolling with.  
					In time, the officer 
					found a stretch of the path that hadn't been reclaimed by 
					the snow. He and his fellow HHC Soldiers were home free. 
					“It's been like one unit,” Desjardin said of his composite 
					platoon that surmounted a tough day of arctic training. “If 
					this was one 48-person unit, I would take them anywhere. 
					They're phenomenal.” 
					
					More photos By U.S. Army Sgt. David BedardProvided 
					through DVIDS
 Copyright 2016
 
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