They let you take those home?
I don’t think I buy this one:
A soldier home on leave said seven men attacked him and then took his military-issued assault rifle, according to WSB-TV.
16 Responses to “They let you take those home?”
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May 28th, 2010 at 10:01 am
Last I heard, discretion of the post commander. Either way, it’s possible once he had it he made up the story of it being stolen. But I don’t find it beyond the realm of possibility that he was authorized to take it off-base.
May 28th, 2010 at 10:12 am
No unit I’ve ever been in or heard of allows it.
More likely… He snuck it out to ‘show off’.
May 28th, 2010 at 10:20 am
Hand grenade, Grampaw in the outhouse…
May 28th, 2010 at 10:26 am
No, military weapons are not taken home. It fact 100% accountability of weapons is required before being dismissed for the day.
May 28th, 2010 at 10:35 am
seems to be a few holes in the story….so to speak.
May 28th, 2010 at 10:54 am
Don’t believe it. If it’s true, his unit commander should be courts-martialed for incompetence and dereliction.
May 28th, 2010 at 11:21 am
He either sold it, tried to sell it, or was tricked into making it accessible to thieves. In any case, he should be put in prison for this.
May 28th, 2010 at 12:24 pm
In the article now: “A soldier home on leave said seven men attacked him and then took his assault rifle, according to WSB-TV.”
Not one word about it being a “military-issued assault rifle”. I suspect they got the story wrong on the first go-round and have put the first version down the memory hole.
Matt: “In any case, he should be put in prison for this.”
Bullsh*t. Even if it was government property, “losing” it shouldn’t get him more than an Article 15 (non-judicial punishment: possible loss of rank, fine, and/or “special” duty) and having to pay for the rifle. There just isn’t anything special about the property being a rifle.
May 28th, 2010 at 2:14 pm
When I was in the California Army National Guard I was informed that there’s a federal law that prohibits the transport of Military weapons in privately owned vehicles. Unless that’s changed, which I consider to be highly unlikely, this guy and possibly someone else violated a federal law and are going to find themselves in deep doo-doo.
ParatrooperJJ is right. All weapons must be accounted for before being dismissed. If one is missing the whole unit is held until it turns up and the FBI is called in if it’s not found.
May 28th, 2010 at 6:01 pm
You CAN have a military owned weapon in a POV. You MUST have orders specifying that these weapons (and the one time I did it, all the weapons were listed by serial number and the list was attached as Annex A) may be transported in a POV by THIS soldier.
My buddy and I used his late-1960’s station wagon landyacht to run two racks of rifles and a dozen pistols from Fort Story to Fort Eustis for my Reserve unit’s brigade rifle and pistol team to use the next day. Ammo, too. In civilian clothes. With loaded pistols (listed by S/N on “Annex B”) under our shirts, because our orders stated we were to be “inconspicuously armed” until we could turn the weapons over to someone. (Armorer at Eustis freaked when we asked where to go for a clearing barrel, and BTW, we’ll be bringing the two guns from Annex B back as soon as we cleared them.)
WHY did the Colonel do it that way? I forget why the guns needed to be there on a couple day’s notice, but they did — or he’d have figured a way to deadhead them with a military transport headed that way.
Us using a POV at own expense was cheaper for him than using a military vehicle, because he just made it a MUTA-1 for the two of us, and said we could wear civvies if we drove a POV. Since he KNEW we lived on the Eustis side of the bridge tunnel, he knew we were NOT about to drive to VA Beach to sign out a truck, drive to Esustis, drive BACK to VA Beach with the truck, turn it in to the pickiest motor pool guys I ever met, so we could turn around and drive through teh tunnel for the fifth time. . . and we’d have spent the same amount of OUR gas money, plus an additional four hours or so of OUR time if we used a GOV. Everybody wins.
Of course there’s a funny story involving that trip and Norfolk’s finest, but I’ll stop here. . .
May 28th, 2010 at 6:06 pm
Geodkyt: Please continue!
May 28th, 2010 at 6:56 pm
I will support the interpretation that the rifle stolen was a personally owned weapon. I have a personal example of soldiers owning neat guns.
When my older brother was in the Rangers and I was away at college, he visited home one weekend with his privately owned, absolutely legal, fully automatic Uzi.
I am the only member of my immediate family NOT to have fired this fully auto Uzi, because I was away from home at college. At the time, those who got to shoot a full magazine of 9mm included my 9 year old baby sister and my aged mother.
May 29th, 2010 at 12:48 am
It is possible to have government issued weapons on hand while on leave. It is increasingly common to grant leave en route either before or after deployments. For example, while I was awaiting transportation on the east coast, I was allowed to take leave to visit family who were nearby. Of course, this raised the question of what to do with my weapons, as the APOD wouldn’t hold them (why not, I don’t know…).
The first person with G-series orders in my chain of command let me sign a brief memo that basically said, “I will securely store my weapon while on leave at the nearest DOD or state/local law enforcement facility for the duration of my leave.” I also had one of those nifty letters that let me transport it in a POV.
So, I stashed it at a local base’s armory for the duration of my leave. I worked out all the details through the base commander’s exec. While unlikely, I suppose we could have been held up right before (or after) I dropped it at the base. Or, I could have been negligent, said I would properly store it, and just not bothered to stash it at a local base. The approving officer didn’t seem too concerned about the particulars so I probably could have gotten her to sign a memo saying vaguely, “the weapon will be secured” and then locked it in the case in my garage…
May 29th, 2010 at 9:22 pm
OK, so Gene (looked like a cross between Frankenstein’s monster and Arnold Swartzenegger in bad light. . . nicest guy you ever met) and I are cruising down I64, enjoying the premium AC his Country Squire (or was it USS Wisconsin? {BSEG}). . . i.e., we’re using the corner vents in the windows (remember those? nice), with the rear door window cracked about a 1/2 inch.
I’m in a God-awfully loud Hawaiian shirt and Levi’s in my Neander-Hobbit-like 5’7.5″, 180lbs (in other words, shaped somewhat like a fire hydrant), and all 6 foot zillion of 220+lbs of muscular perfection of Gene in khakis and a golf shirt (looking like either a serious divinity student, or a FLETC student after hours– he was the former, and had considered the latter before getting married). Both of use have cocked & locked 1911s in the small of our back, Magnum PI style in our pants under our shirts, 2 spare mags in out pockets.
Apparently the wool blankets and poncho liners we had draped over the racks blew off (if we’d thought about it, we’d have chucked some boots on top for weight), and a trucker passing by called in on the CB that we had a car load of frikkin’ machineguns!!1-eleventy!
Presently, a TWO cop cruiser of Norfolk PD (neither gun-friendly, nor fond of the military AT ALL) pulls us over with a felony stop. (So far, I’d say it was not totally unreasonable, I mean we DID have a pair fo full racks of M16A1s and a dozen or so individual cans of ammo, plus a locked box (pistols) they had no idea waht was in.) From the looks of things, it was rookie cop (with the Blue Flame of Righteousness blowing about 3 meters out his ass and the silver Tombstone of Invulnerability and Immortality gleaming a halo on his chest) and some fatter, balder cat with sergeant’s stripes.
So here we are, splayed out, face down (actually, face to the side, arms and legs out like starfish), on the burning concrete and rather sharp gravel, while The Blue Templar and his master, Obi Wan Canoli, haven’t yet SEARCHED us, and Sir Righeousness the Younger is busy monologuing.
“You assholes are going to prison for LIFE!!! JESUS! These are GOVERNMENT rifles! Where’d you steal them? You some kind of terrorist militia types?!?”
Remember, no Miranda, no search yet. And every time I try to tell him I have orders, jackass cuts me off.
“Sir. . . ”
“STFU!!! You must have two dozen guns here!!! [Actually, genius, I have about THREE dozen.] AND enough ammo to fight a friggin’ WAR!!! [No, jackass, I’ve got MAYBE two basic loads per rifle, and a shitload for the handguns.] Who were you planning on killing?!? You planning on killing cops?!?! You planning on killing me?!?”
Obi Wan Canoli is just sitting on the hood of their car with his gun in his hand, waiting for trouble. Still no backup apparant. Middle of a weekday, late spring, I64 in Norfolk? Only reason they didn’t have both an NPD AND State Trooper backup on scene was they hadn’t ASKED for it. . .
Finally, I had had enough. And Gene (the nicest, kindest, least angry guy I knew) had this vein about to blow out in his forehead, and I figured he was gonna start something with this dickweed ANY minute now. . .
Little factoid not apparant yet. Gene and I were graduates of the Drill Sergeant School, light infantry NCOs, and both of us were well versed in projecting Authority and Presence at will.
I. Had. Had. Enough. (And if Gene blew, we were both gonna get shot on the ground. I think Dipstick was looking for an excuse to shoot himself a militia terrorist.)
“OFFICER! My orders are in my LEFT rear pocket, my ID is in my wallet in my RIGHT rear pocket, right next to my service weapon you haven’t even found yet! We are on written orders. You WILL confirm them and release us.”
Things got a leeetle sparky for a bit, as the realization that the “Evil Right Wing Gunrunner Terrorists” have been ARMED the whole time sinks in. Suddenly, RookieMan realizes it’s not a Mel Gibson movie anymore, and the ScriptGod who is supposed to save him is nowhere to be found if this goes lethal.
Obi Wan Canoli draws his weapon, and moves to a half assed covering position. (Doesn’t bother using his engine block for cover and his misses will now fly whizzingly into the face of traffic on eastbound I64, but hey, it’s the thought that counts, right?)
The Blue Templar bags and tags us, making sure to chuck the guns ten feet or so at his partner (still locked and loaded), and slams us belly down over the divider rail so he can do an bullshit Hollywood frisk job. (Didn’t notice my Spyderco in my right front pocket, nor Gene’s Buck knife at his left rear hip, for instance.)
Then he starts monologuing about how he’s NOW got us on forging government orders and IDs, and we’re going to the federal pen.
“OFFICER! You WILL call a supervisor RIGHT FRIGGIN’ NOW. I want to speak to your lieutenant.”
Obi Wan Canoli has apparantly had an increase in neuron activity, and realizes that we ARE NOT acting like bad guys, but rather like VERY PISSED OFF people who are doing EXACTLY what they are supposed to be doing.
He calls The Blue Templar off, and the kid starts feverishly scribbling his reports. We are now sitting on the guard rail (still cuffed). When RookieMan goes to recover our .45’s, I probably should have let him, but instead I barked, “Don’t you go finger-fucking my sidearm, BOY. You will just shoot your dumb ass or some innocent civilian! Leave it sitting right the fuck there until your boss arrives!”
Obi Wan Canoli had to PHYSICALLY restrain the kid for a few seconds. As I said, NOT the smartest move I could have made — but I was convinced that moron would crank one off through stupidity, and I didn’t want to swallow a 230 grain hardball.
Some time later, the LT drives up, along with a pair of NPD cruisers for backup, AND a Statie. The Statie starts walking up in a determined manner, until Gene gives him a tiny shake of the head.
The Blue Templar of Righeousness marches right up to the LT and hands him our IDs and orders and says, “SEE! They gave us some bullshit story about being on orders. These ID cards aren’t even green!”
LT reads teh orders, and makes a radio call, asking Dispatch to check the phone number listed as the POC (which was the provost office on Fort Eustis — that being a 24/7 number AND the place we were delivering the rifles), and call to check the orders if the number was legit.
Two minutes later. . .
LT – “Let ’em go.”
BToR — “But the pink ID. . .”
LT — “They’re Reservists. Says so right on the ID AND the orders. Reserves get pink IDs, just like the Navy ID in MY wallet. They don’t get green IDs everytime they go on duty for a couple of days.”
BToR – “Let me just get the machineguns for evidence, and issue a summons.”
LT – “Let them the fuck go. WITH the guns.”
BToR – “What about the guns they had concealed?”
LT – “You will HAND them their sidearms, apologize profusely, and LET THEM THE FUCK GO.”
Me — “Um, L-T? I don’t want him TOUCHING my weapon again. He’ll end up shooting someone with it. He already probably fucked the sights and finish up.”
BToR — “You Sonuva. . . !”
LT – “STOP! The sergeants here will recover their own damned guns, and YOU will sit in the fuckin’ cruiser.”
As we were stuffing our pistols back under our shirts, the LT says, “Um, he’s new — no hard feelings? We don’t need paperwork on this, do we?”
Gene — “Naw, L-T, we’re cool.”
Me — “Hey, Dan! See you at drill next week! You gotta tell Top the dings on the pistol ain’t my fault!” (To the Statie. An INORDINANT percentage of that USAR unit was made up of cops.)
Dan — “I’ll tell Top. YOU get to explain it to Jimmy! [the armorer]”
May 29th, 2010 at 9:36 pm
BTW,
Re-reading this story, I can see how it may come across as anti-police. Not at all.
I love cops, have cops as close personal friends. Will (and HAVE) trusted my life to cops in situations where a moment’s inattention or incompetance could get me killed (usually in painful and gruesome ways). If I had to find a place to drop off my daughter at 3AM, with no prior notice, my first choice happens to be a guy who’s a cop who has teh key to my house and is welcome to drop in for an overnight visit, even if I’m not home (whether or not my wife is there.)
This little screed is (at worst) anti-Lousy Cop, the kind who gets himself, his fellow officers, and innocent civilians killed with his Uber-macho dumbassery. The kind who will excuse his stupidity by screaming “Officer Safety!” at the top of his lungs, insisting anyone who won’t let him do whatever stupid and unsafe thing he wants (with no restraint), hates cops and is probably a felon of some sort.
May 31st, 2010 at 10:57 am
@Geodkyt Thanks for the story