Within the next few days, and for the duration of the voyage, the dining area and berthing became a mix of various camouflage styles and gray. The digital Marines chatted with their Australian counterparts, and the sailors kept their new home functioning and operational.

“The thing you expect from a lot of Americans is they’re a fairly loud, good-natured sort of people,” said Australian Army Lance Cpl. Daniel L. Hewitt, a mortarman with Support Company, 2nd Battalion, Royal Australian Regiment. “I’ve been to Malaysia and Singapore and a couple other places over the years, and you get the impression that soldiers all over are pretty much the same person.”

Not only did the Marines and sailors swap stories and compare their services with the Australians, but they shared what was unanimously declared among Company E as one of the best parts of the Kanimbla: exquisite meals, morning, noon and night.

“It’s a lot better than what we’re used to getting, and that’s for a lot of reasons,” Erickson said. “Our ships go farther, longer, so (the meals) have to be simpler, have a longer expiration date. Here, (the Australians are) closer to home, they’re not going out very long, so they really get the good stuff.”

When they were not eating or training, the Australians and Marines did what all people do when faced with long periods of time – attempt to relieve the boredom.

“The Australians helped keep a good vibe in the air,” said Lance Cpl. Kevin R. Ivey, a squad automatic weapon gunner with 2/1.

“They’re good to talk to, and they like to play cards and always have a good time. It makes ship life a bit better.”

By the end of the second day, the cultural gaps seemed less like abysses and more like cracks on a common sidewalk. “The sports Americans watch are obviously different, but it’s mostly the same thing with them – talking about football and girls, all that sort of stuff,” said Hewitt. “The change is for us it’s rugby, and for you guys, it’s gridiron and baseball.”

Remaining Ready Together
With the impending mission at hand, the members of the 31st MEU knew that life aboard ship could not always be about entertainment.

Foreign uniforms, ranks and accents, and intense training would come into play.

Flak jackets – complete with the modular neck, throat and groin protectors – lined the sides of the hangar bay passageway as the Marines and sailors prepared to train for what they do best: engage enemy forces.

This was an ongoing rehearsal for a show where there would be no time for anything but instant action. The Marines, having donned all their gear, occupied the area and ran through drills repeatedly. Each movement, command, and procedure was designed to make them assess threats so hastily they would not need to worry about remembering what they have to do. Their bones would remember for them.

Within environments where bystanders may not be combatants at all, the Marines train not just to recognize enemies as fast as possible, but to take them down with the least necessary amount of force.

“You can’t just go around sending rounds at people and not know who they are and what they’re about,” said Ivey, the squad automatic weapon gunner. “You use your escalation of force to help you determine and maybe better the situation, rather than turn it into warfare.”

The Marine squad leaders paid a great deal of attention to the methods of enemy prisoner of war and detainee handling and positive enemy identification, consistently going over how to differentiate between a friend or foe and making certain their Marines would make the right call before the hammer falls.

“It’s about making sure we are abiding by the laws of land warfare, making sure we’re complying with the Geneva conventions, even though our enemy may not,” said squad leader Erickson. “I always tell the Marines, the answer isn’t to just kill them all because we’re the good guys, and we need to maintain that.”

Standing By
After a while, the embarked forces of the HMAS Kanimbla – Australian and American – eased into their routine: reveille, meals, physical training, classes, showers within the mandatory 90 seconds, and retiring for the evening to wake up and start it all over again. The Marines and sailors took comfort in the small things: the food, an occasional cigarette, or even watching the evening rugby game with their new brothers.

Still, the distinct outline of the mountainous Australian coast beckoned from the horizon, and the Marines and sailors of Company E knew their steel refuge was only temporary.

Chapter Two
Shoalwater Bay Training Area, Queensland, Australia
… And let slip the dogs of war

Just as quickly as their stay aboard had begun, it ended.

Hundreds of pounds of gear and equipment have been checked, rechecked, inspected, accounted for and packed away. Infrared vision devices have been tested, weapons have been cleaned, and food and water for the next few days have been issued. Rucksacks line the halls of the ship.

Making up the 31st MEU’s ground-combat element, the Marines and sailors of California-based Company E, Battalion Landing Team, 2nd Battalion, 1st Marine Regiment, are as prepared and ready for their mission as humanly possible.

Shakespearian References
The teufelhunden accompany their new comrades – the Australian soldiers of 2nd Battalion, RAR – down a stairwell and into a U.S. naval landing craft, disembarking the HMAS Kanimbla, a ship which has served as their home for the past ten days but is now releasing them to shores where their enemies await.

A ship that holds the motto: Cry Havoc!

How fitting.

But of course, there are no real enemies, and there will be no real chaos. And really, none of this is real, insofar as there will be no actual firefights. It’s just Antony, Brutus and Caesar, but involving thousands of players and spanning hundreds of square kilometers.

It’s Exercise Talisman Saber 2007, a monumental two-week play formulated to show leaders how their units would work together in a legitimate combat scenario, or in this case specifically, how units from different countries mesh together.

Center stage for this play – the Shoalwater Bay training area – is fairly impressive. For one, it’s bigger than Rhode Island. Comprised of swamps, forests, mountains, grassy plains, roads and even an elaborate urban combat training area, it’s got everything a force could possibly need to act out a war without all of the mess that accompanies actual fighting.

All things can be considered except for an actual body count and how much blood would be lost. Leaders can plan, organize, and move units through terrain to try and defeat the enemy, and white-cell personnel – neutral referees, in a sense – accompany all units to coordinate casualties and damages between opposing sides.

But to fight a war, you need something much more important than a good set of expensive props. You need a conflict between actively engaged, dynamic characters.

The conflict lies between two fictional countries. Dictator-led Kamaria has taken aggressive actions toward coalition ally Legais and has staged itself to attack said allied nation. Coalition forces have led a land, sea and air war against the Kamarian military forces and severely crippled their abilities.

The bad news is Kamarian ground units still continue to occupy the area, and their ability to threaten the Legaian populace must be neutralized.

The characters are many, but this particular story involves those of Company E, and the Australian soldiers of 2nd Battalion, Royal Australian Regiment. They have been tasked with moving toward the Kamarian stronghold, a city in Raspberry Creek here, code-named Objective Cowboy.

Their movement to the target will not go unopposed.

The villains are reserve Marines from the 1st Battalion, 25th Marine Regiment, role-playing the Kamarian military. They will actively attempt to accomplish their mission to hold off the impending assault by coalition forces or inflict as many casualties as possible.

And so, the curtain rises on the coalition forces as they make their way to shore to defeat their Kamarian foes.

Objective Cowboy or Bust
Hour one, minute one. Already everyone’s getting their feet wet.

“It wasn’t my first time getting off a (landing craft),” says Cpl. David A. Stocker, a weapons platoon team leader with Company E. “So I kind of knew what to expect, but I knew it was going to be bad.”

The landing craft sails from the Kanimbla, delivering its payload of personnel almost to land – almost because the craft doesn’t quite make it to the shore, requiring the service members to wade through waist-high waters before reaching the beach proper.

“I think at that time the Marines were still very excited about the upcoming operation and getting on the ground,” said Company E executive officer 1st Lt. Brian S. Williams. “Knowing that (the Marines had wet feet already), we knew that it was going to be a mental challenge for the Marines.”

“We all, I think, joined the Marine Corps to challenge ourselves in some way, and during these field operations, we’re constantly trying to push our own limits to find out exactly where they are,” Williams added.

The unit patrols down the road briefly before setting up a 360-degree defense and setting in for the night. For now, because of logistical constraints, movement to the enemy will have to wait.

Day two. The rain, which has fallen steadily throughout the night and preceding day, endures. For the most part, despite waterproof jackets and sleeping-bag sacks, the company remains wet.

“Inclement weather’s always bad to be in, but it’s one of those things about being a Marine that you’ve got to deal with,” team leader Stocker said. “Nobody likes to be in (rainy conditions), but it adds to it. This is weather that we can’t experience in California all the time, so being out here kind of prepped (us) for other operations in this weather or worse.”

The company and its attachments pack up and move to a staging area ran by Combat Logistics Battalion 31 to await transportation by 7-ton trucks further inland to an airfield. At that time, helicopters from Marine Medium Helicopter Squadron 265 (Reinforced) will take them to the mission’s insertion point.

Throughout the day, as vehicles arrive and transport the men inland, those remaining behind construct shelters and fires to attempt to dry their feet, boots and other wet gear. The rain lets up for a few hours at least, but in the best possible case the Marines remain damp.

“Anytime you’re cold, and you’re wet, hungry, it challenges you mentally and physically, and Marines continue to push through and execute as Marines should,” Williams says.

The last of the Marines, sailors, and Australian soldiers arrive at the airstrip after dark and trek through the now swelled swamp to a bivouac site. Once again, a defense is arranged, and the night passes, this time, mostly without precipitation.

Day three.
The weather is decent today, the sun actually making an appearance from mid-morning till dusk.

The Marines pack their gear and take to the road where they move close enough to the airstrip to see various helicopters – mainly CH-46E Sea Knights and CH-53 Sea Stallions – arrive to take them to their mission insertion point.

“Anytime you see (helicopters) coming in, or trucks moving or (tracked vehicles), whatever your operation is going to be, once you see them, you start getting into the mode a little more than if you’re just standing by,” Stoker says. “Once everything starts rolling, you start getting into the mindset where you’re ready to do this.”

The Australians remain eager to see what the Marines can do as well.

“I was just looking forward to watching the way you guys work, getting that interoperability happening between the Australians and Americans,” said Australian Army Cpl. Christopher N. Barry, a signals detachment commander with 2nd Battalion, RAR and one of Company E’s radio operators. “We all do things slightly different, and (I just wanted to iron) that out so we’re all on the same sheet of paper.”

Of course, there are still precautions that must be taken, so all of the force members receive informative briefs prior to loading up to leave. Once everyone is cleared for flight and the reinforced squadron’s birds take a test flight, the Marines load up and ship out.

The helicopters land in a meadow illuminated only by the moon and stars, and the Marines exit their aerial transports and rally up, using night vision to navigate through the darkness.

No more waiting. No more standing by. This is when the plot thickens, and Company E knows it.

“The only thought should be on mission accomplishment and the Marines to your left and your right,” Williams says. “You cannot go internal … you can’t start focusing on your own needs, your own wants.”

Day four.
Before the sun rises, the gear is equipped, packs are on and the company is on the move.

They won’t have to wait long for their progress to halt.

A few hours after stepping off from the previous night’s defensive area, Company E falls under attack from the Kamarian-role-playing 1st Battalion, 25th Marines.

“Any time you fight a like-minded unit, it’s always a difficult task,” Williams explains. “You always want to know the enemy and expect what they’re going to do. When we have the same (tactics, techniques and procedures) we can very well predict each other’s next move, so it’s difficult to be unpredictable.”

The Marines respond as Marines do, forming up to face the enemy and assaulting through the forest, engaging the force until the encounter is called off by white-cell personnel.

According to the rules of the engagement, the company must wait several hours for their simulated casualties to be revived; they may then continue on with the rest of the men.

The movement to contact continues, with all efforts focused on positioning the Marines strategically to commence the attack upon Objective Cowboy the next day.

The rain makes a reappearance in the evening as well, only furthering the challenge of navigating the difficult terrain.

“The terrain and the inclement weather was the worst,” Stocker says. “A lot of Marines, including myself, have never really been in these conditions for this period of time. A lot of the creeks swelled up, mud puddles everywhere, (and it was) rocky through a lot of it, instead of just going through the woods.”

The company moves throughout the day and spends a significant portion of the evening crossing danger areas with unsure footing. Long after night has fallen, they finally set down approximately two kilometers from the target.

Of course, keeping increasingly discomforted people focused on the mission is no easy task.

“I was always taught the three Ms: It’s my mission, my men, myself, in that order,” Williams said. “I focus on my mission and my Marines. As the company (executive officer), I’ve got to devote a lot of time to the company, and by doing that, it takes the entire focus off of me. Any time you have responsibility of others, it makes it easier. It truly does make it easier. If I’m worried about 160 other guys out here, I’m not worrying about myself. That’s what gets me through it every time.”

The day began well before the sun rose and lasted approximately 17 hours, the Marines moving packs and gear sometimes weighing in at more than 100 pounds per person.

Tomorrow the attack commences, and right now, it’s raining. Everyone’s feet are wet again.

Day five.
The rain has continued throughout the night, and right now, at the time for movement, there is absolutely zero illumination.

The company moves, slowly at first, in a ranger column, keeping careful distance to men they can more easily feel than see.

“(We were) anxious to go, to prove to the Australians what the Marines are capable of,” Williams says. “Any time you’re out working with a joint unit, whether it be our U.S. Army or a foreign force, you always want to one-up the other guy, set the bar higher than the other.”

“We wanted to get out there and show what we were truly capable of as a fighting force, bring all of our assets to bear upon the enemy,” Williams added.

Eventually, twilight and then morning come, making the terrain at least a little easier to see and the company moves forward coming to a halt in a tree-line area where they await the order to join in the attack, which has already commenced.

“It’s one of those days where you’re just like, damn, let’s get it over with, but every operation you do takes its time,” Stoker says. “There’s a plan, there’s an H-hour, and once you get final word that you’re doing something, you’ve got to still get in the mindset.

“Once you’re in that mindset you’re straight.”

After about an hour and a half, the company receives the go-ahead. The company makes its way out of the forest, sending marsupials bounding for cover through the high grasses. The forces traverse up a hill to the Raspberry Creek training facility.

The company takes up a position in an already cleared sector of buildings and begins working its way through the rest. The Kamarian forces are holed up, for the most part, in a three-story building on the opposite side of town.

Of course, Company E brings what it needs to deal with the situation.

“I like to see the firepower you have within the company,” said Barry, the Australian signals detachment commander. “They have the 60 mm mortars, (the M240-G machine guns) … that’s excellent, to already have that embedded in your company.

“That’s awesome firepower for us that’s not something that we have in the normal rifle company. We need to get that asset (to) come down from our support company.”

The fight ensues, and Company E finally gets to sink its teeth into what they have waited over half a week to devour. Through a combination of assaults by the Marine company, the Australian battalion, and other elements of Battalion Landing Team 2/1, the coalition forces accomplish the mission, which is not only the defeat of their simulated enemies but enduring the conditions they had to brave to get to the fight.

“By getting pushed to our limits, and discovering our weaknesses, we now know what we need to improve upon,” Williams explains. “I think the conditions were set for realistic operations, completely. I think the exercise was a success, in that we accomplished the mission, identified our own weaknesses so we now know what we need to work upon.”

Williams also conveyed his thoughts of 2nd Battalion, RAR, and the Australian forces the company served beside during the exercise.

“I’m very, very impressed with the Australians,” Williams says. “By being a force of only approximately 51,000 in their country, they have many similar traits to the United States Marine Corps, namely the esprit de corps, their tactics out in the field, (and being) extremely professional and proficient. I was highly impressed and eager to work with them, and it’s been an outstanding, outstanding working relationship.”

EndEX
At approximately 1:00 p.m. on day 5, the attack is concluded by the white-cell personnel.

The dogs of war – U.S. and Australian alike – are allowed to settle in and lick their wounds.

“Later on, the weather cleared up,” Stocker says. “It was a little bit better. We knew there was a possibility of sleeping in the houses, so we wouldn’t be sleeping in the rain. Once we got into the houses and the op was over, it wasn’t even five minutes later that we got word that we could take our boots off and dry out. We were dry and everybody was happy.”

In the end, the exercise remains harmless only in name; no actual violence has occurred. Real casualties, however, have resulted on all sides from conditions such as hypothermia, dehydration, trench foot, and various physical injuries.

But even these were attended to throughout the exercise, the company staying in character and calling in nine-line casualty evacuation reports.

“Any time you come through an exercise you want to have it as positive as possible,” Williams says. “You don’t want the Marines walking away feeling defeated or anything along those lines. By ending on a high note, having a climax to the exercise, gives the Marines and soldiers ... a sense of accomplishment.

By bringing in the heaters, the (hot beverages), that’s our higher taking care of the Marines.”

“My mission, my men, myself,” Williams explains. “Taking care of the men boosts morale, everyone having an opportunity to share a coffee, a tea with each other and just kind of laugh over the hardships of the past few days.

“What makes us so close as a cohesive unit is our shared misery.”

Bringing Stories Back
The mission that has consumed the time, energy and spirit of the Marines, sailors and Australian soldiers over the past five days has concluded.

The weary faces of participants can be seen everywhere, standing in line to drink a hot brew – as the Australians call it – or sitting down inside one of the many buildings of the Raspberry Creek facility, taking their boots off with grimacing curiosity.

Everyone’s feet look like hell – shriveled, creviced and pale beyond any meager reference to prunes. Black, brown or green residues – corresponding to the color of sock worn – hide between every swelling centimeter of flesh. And as far as the smell goes ... it simply cannot be described.

Brand new propane torches now stand in some of the shipping container-like rooms and men, U.S. and Australian, officers and enlisted, have hung up gear, clothing, weapons and other various articles to dry out during the night.

In one room in particular, huddled around the orange-blue glow, the senior enlisted Marines and officers of the company talk for several hours, mostly about what you’d expect: their Marines’ performance, previous operations, plans for the next few days and their time spent with the Australians.

As the company gunnery sergeant, Gunnery Sgt. Shawn Stringham, rubs his feet, looking as torn up as everyone else, he recalls a saying that fits as well as anything can for the past five days: “A good story beats a good time any day of the week.”

Wise, indeed.

Wise, because next week, when the feet have healed, when the gear has been wiped down, scrubbed, inspected, accounted for and turned back into the armory, when the Marines are dressed in civilian clothes and enjoying their Sydney liberty, all of this – the exercise, the Kanimbla, the conflict and misery, the heaters, the rain, the feet, even Raspberry Creek and Shoalwater Bay – all that will remain will be stacks of compiled data to use in future strategic planning.

All that will remain will be a script for a play, grandiose in nature, just as was intended.

But all of the stories told by the men of Company E, amongst themselves or to spouses, or to friends over dinner, or to younger Marines transferring into their new unit, or perhaps even grandchildren by the fire, where feet need never be wet, all of the stories will be real.