If there is one thing that Delta Force is famous for, without being famous for, it is the traditional “Smoke-a-thon!”
The Smoke-a-thon was a single, quarterly, monstrous endurance event of some eight hours or so in duration. It was composed of many constituent events – including a triathlon – each designed to tax the participants both mentally and physically.
To preclude any advance preparation and any gaming of the event by the participants, Operational Security was of paramount importance while setting it up.
Typically, the participants entered the event in teams of two, more so for safety than anything else; after all, men had been know to routinely fall casualty to Smoke-a-thon’s trials.
The prize for the winning team was, of course, bragging rights!
Under all circumstances, bragging rights are revered in Delta Force: the opportunity to say you were king for even one day is reward enough for any man in the amazing sea of badassery and talent that is the Unit!
But no one in Delta is consistently the best at everything. The skill level between operators in the Unit is so close that any man, at any hour, could be the top gun… It could be the extra piece of toast at breakfast that makes you briefly rise to the top; it could be not eating that extra piece of toast… who knows.
Some operators relished the event. Case in point: There was a legend of a Delta man, Slappy, who was renowned for his spirited participation in the Smoke-a-thon, such that the iterations of the event he participated in were known as “Slap-a-thons.”
I have had the honor of surviving two Smoke-a-thons, and here’s how one of these two events went down.
The day started off with a typical long run of some six to eight miles, followed by a 2,000 meter swim in typical triathlon fashion.
The third event was a five-mile bicycle ride along a sand firebreak trail, but with a catch: the bikes had been disassembled and placed in a pile along with some basic tools. We had to sort through the pile and assemble rideable bikes to set out on.
Inevitably, multiple teams were present at the bike junk pile simultaneously, so the contention for tools and parts was intense.
We soon started on the bicycle ride with whatever contraptions we had managed to assemble. Some jalopies fell apart mid-ride resulting in teams having to portage the bikes on their shoulders through the five miles of sand trails to the next station of the cross.
For me, the last 100ish meters of the bike ride were steeply downhill on a rocky slope. Just at the very end, because of all the weight and pressure I was bearing down on them, the handlebars of my bike snapped on both sides of their stem, sending me on a power dive over the top of the bike, handlebar halves still attached to break and derailleurs cables clasped in each hand.
Then, I reached a building with a maze.
Related: When Delta Force torched down the neighborhood
I was traversing through the maze dead tired, when I arrived at one small room with three numbers painted on one of its walls and a door on its farthest end – the room was otherwise empty. Passing through the door into the next room revealed a metal box with a combination lock on it; inside were essential continuation instructions.
In turned out that the lock’s combo was the three numbers painted on the wall in the previous room – and the door between the two rooms only opened one way! So, if you discounted the numbers in the previous room, you had to wait for another team to open the separating door and then go back and read them!
Another of the day’s events included a canoe race, and I drew several Unit cartoons commemorating it
All it all, it was an amazing day rife with adventure and tomfoolery.
Pat McNamara and his teammate ended up in front of this treacherous event, claiming the Delta crown for the day; that is, until the next pair of brothers stepped up to recover that crown from team Mac in the next Delta Force Smoke-a-thon.
Some detail in this busy cartoon above should be pointed out. On the right of the cartoon, you can see an object hanging from a branch on the tree behind the team paddling their canoe with a Jolly Roger flying. The object was an iron frying pan with bullet holes that some local boys would use for target practice. It wasn’t really unnerving to any of us, although maybe it should have been.
In the upper right I have busted out the team that decided they could portage their canoe on a shorter overland route to come out ahead of the paddlers… they were woefully wrong and became dismally lost!
Finally, we see Delta’s renowned Pat McNamara at the lower left with his buddy who had just capsized and lost their Garmin GPS navigation device. Mac’s partner spent a lengthy amount of time diving and searching until he found the device, while Mac mainly wrestled with keeping his cool.
And yet it happened!
By Almighty God and with Honor,
geo sends
Feature Image: Air Force Academy cadets carry a log over their shoulders during a medical evacuation march at an Air Liaison Officer Aptitude assessment, Feb. 16, 2017, at Camp Bullis, Texas. The cadets were required to trek multiple miles carrying logs and simulated wounded to a medical evacuation zone in limited time. (U.S. Air Force photo by Staff Sgt. Daniel Snider)
Read more from Sandboxx News
- What happens when you approach Mach 2 in an F-16?
- Marine Corps stands up group to train all its Marines on drone and counter-drone systems
- This is why a SEAL Team 6 member uses the odd Taurus Judge revolver
- Navy plans to create mini-missile to allow stealth fighters to carry more weapons
- Airmen may get kits to build their own drones and drone-killing weapons in the field
