MICHIGAN GOVERNMENT PRINTING OFFICE
LANSING : 62–769 cc 1990

S. HRG. 106–743
APPROPRIATIONS FOR
FISCAL YEAR 1990
HEARINGS
BEFORE A
SUBCOMMITTEE OF THE
COMMITTEE ON APPROPRIATIONS
MICHIGAN SENATE
ONE HUNDRED SIXTH CONGRESS
SECOND SESSION
ON
H.R. 4576/S. 2593
AN ACT MAKING APPROPRIATIONS FOR SEARCH AND RESCUE OPERATIONS
FOR THE FISCAL YEAR ENDING SEPTEMBER 30, 1991, AND FOR
OTHER PURPOSES

Nondepartmental witnesses
Printed for the use of the Committee on Appropriations

Senator FARQUART: Thank you Colonel Banks. That was a very informative reply. However, with the balance of my time, I would like to move on to another issue that, quite frankly, disturbs me a great deal.

Lieutenant Hannibal, I requested that you be invited to appear before the committee along with Colonel Banks because I wanted to ask you about an incident that I believe you were a witness to.

Lieutenant HANNIBAL:I'm happy to help in any way I can, Senator.

Senator FARQUART: Thank you for that sentiment Lieutenant. The committee appreciates the candidness and candor that you and the Colonel have displayed here today. I have been informed that you were the member of a unit called the 77th Ranger Support Unit and participated in an activity called the (PAUSE) Drummond Island Ranger School from July of 1980 to August of 1982. Is that correct?

Lieutenant HANNIBAL: (LONG PAUSE) Senator, I'm not sure how to answer that. I did attend and serve on staff at the Drummond Island Search and Rescue Encampment in all three of those years. While I lived in Southeastern Michigan most of that time, I spent two weeks each year up there training CAP cadets in search and rescue techniques. I was a member of Oakland County Group XII that entire time.

Senator FARQUART: Lieutenant, I apologize for getting the school and unit names wrong. I must have been misinformed. I am interested in a particular incident that happened on August Third of 1982. I believe you were on staff at the Drummond Island School that year?

Lieutenant HANNIBAL: Yes sir, I was a team commander.

Senator FARQUART: Yes. Well, as I understand it, part of the training provided on Drummond Island was survival training including shelter building, foraging and fire making?

Lieutenant HANNIBAL: We held classes on shelter building and fire-making.

Senator FARQUART: But not foraging?

Lieutenant HANNIBAL: Not that I recall Senator. Our survival training was pretty rudimentary. Our main focus there was Search and Rescue.

Senator FARQUART: Then can you explain how well over half of the cadets up there came down with food poisoning, not from the food provided by the school, but from indigenous plants? I can understand a few teenagers trying something and getting sick, but it seems to me that the only way to get that many children sick is if it was part of the program. If this is the way you conduct training, I just have to wonder if the State's money could be better utilized elsewhere.

Lieutenant HANNIBAL: First of all Senator, you are talking about something that took place 8 years ago. It was a different time. Since then, Civil Air Patrol has put in place regulations that would have made the event you are referring to unlikely.

Regardless, eating indigenous food was not part of our training. Although I am not sure about the date, I am sure you are referring to the day that many of our cadets got sick after making tea from wild spearmint. It was not "well over half" of our cadets. In fact, it was exactly half of our cadets. The cadet who came up with the idea, who was a student by the way, didn't realize that spearmint was poisonous before the first frost of the year. He made the tea on his own, other students tried it too, and before we knew it, we had a lot of sick people.

Senator FARQUART: Isn't it true that several of them required hospitalization?

Lieutenant HANNIBAL: No Senator. Two cadets were taken to the local doctor, but we were able to deal with the problem ourselves.

Senator JONES: Mr. Chairman, may I say something?

Senator DUMKE: Is it relevant to the topic at hand?

Senator JONES: Yes, Mr. Chairman, I believe it is.

Senator DUMKE: The Chair recognizes Senator Jones.

Senator JONES: Thank you, Mister Chairman. I was not informed of this incident before now. Because the rest of us on the subcommittee are not aware of the incident that our respected colleague from Grand Rapids has brought up, I propose that the witness tell us about the incident in his own words. I believe it will save time in the end and make things a bit clearer.

Senator DUMKE: Any objections?

Senator FARQUART: Mr. Chairman, I ask that this not be taken out of my allotted time.

Senator DUMKE: It will be taken out of the time I previously yielded. Now are there any objections?

ALL: No objections

Senator DUMKE: Lieutenant, could you tell us about the day in question. I can give you about 10 minutes. Is that sufficient?

Lieutenant HANNIBAL: Yes, Mr. Chairman. I remember that day pretty well, even after all these years. We had taken the entire school on a two-day field exercise to a campsite on the beach a few miles south of our main base. We called the location Meade Island after a smaller island that could be seen over the water from the campsite. The purpose of the exercise was to see who could pack gear, continue the march, and sleep without a tent. We didn't want the long march to Marble Head, traditionally known as the Death March, to be the first time they humped a ruck.

Senator DUMKE: Excuse me, Lieutenant, humped a ruck?

Lieutenant HANNIBAL: I'm sorry Senator. That is slang for "carry a back pack". With our rucksacks on, we look like humpbacks. Anyway, the trip was also meant as a brief getaway that would be physically hard, but mentally and emotionally easy. The cadets had just finished several days of very hard labor, and we believed it would be a real morale builder.

We marched north to the main highway, turned east for about a mile, and then marched south down a jeep trail that led to the campsite. By Drummond Island standards, it was a short hike that only took a few hours, but by the time we were halfway there, we had people who were struggling. The teams redistributed gear and pushed on.

The evening in the bivouac area was relatively uneventful. The cadet commander had to make an effort to prevent inappropriate co-habitation among the male and female cadets, but that was straightened out rather quickly. My team set up shelters of some sort and crashed...uh...went to sleep. Several cadets from other teams didn't bother with shelters and slept on the beach. There were campfires and the whole thing became a beach party. This was a relatively casual affair compared to the regimented life on base. It was our intention that our rangers learn to love life in the field.

One student had found wild spearmint plants near the beach and decided to make tea. He was a good guy, but he could be a bit slow at times. He had failed the school the year before, but he had the guts to come back and try again. I really respected that, and we would become good friends later on.

He steeped his tea while others looked on. Several cadets thought it was really cool that he could find stuff to consume in the field. The other students didn't normally treat him very well, and I think he was proud to be able to contribute something.

As darkness gathered around us, many cadets were drinking his tea or making their own based on his instructions. I remember someone offering me a drink of tea, but I had no idea that they were trying to drink tea from indigenous plants. I declined simply because I didn't like tea.

The next morning started out well. We lazily explored some old settlement that had long since gone to rot. We found some foundations for cabins and many cadets looked for arrowheads and the like. While the early morning was sunny, the clouds began to gather, and by mid-morning we were once again getting rained on.

Two cadets began to complain of stomach cramps. We dragged them to this old ramshackle building to get them in out of the rain. I carried their gear while some others helped them. Word went out to gather food to fill their stomachs. Normally on the Island, stomach pain was the result of too little food or not using the latrine. They insisted they had had bowel movements, so we filled them up. Some cadets even gave up their c-rations, which was a tremendous sacrifice. Those unselfish cadets probably weren't too happy when they learned that it had all been puked up soon afterwards.

It soon became apparent that these two guys were really sick. The commander made the decision to immediately move everyone back to base camp. Some guys were sent back to base on the run to get help. Litters were built for the two guys who had taken ill. Somehow, I ended up with the webgear of one of the sick guys. I carried it as well as my own gear.

We had a large fire vehicle that had been donated to the 77th RSU by a fire department. We called it the Ready Ranger Rescue and Recreational Vehicle. It looked like a standard box ambulance except that it was about twice as long. It was red and white and even had lights and siren. It came roaring up to us about an hour later along with our bus. The two sick guys were dumped inside and the rescue vehicle roared off with lights and siren blaring.

We got back to camp around noon. The seniors, that's the adult CAP personnel, had prepared a hot meal for us. The cadets looked forward to getting fed, warm, and dry. I was not so lucky. On the march the deputy commander and I had become ill, and it had gotten worse on the cramped, humid bus. I made it all the way up to the driver's seat before I collapsed. I would spend the next few days in sick bay. My condition was probably made worse by hypothermia, exhaustion, and stress.

That afternoon, word came down about what had happened at the bivouac site. It was learned from the local doctor that the two cadets were suffering the effects of spearmint poisoning. Apparently, it was the wrong time of year to be picking and brewing it. We had to clean out anyone who had drank any tea to avoid similar symptoms. The doctor was a cranky old country doc, and his orders were as clear as they were vulgar: "Puke 'em and [expletive deleted] 'em". Um...Sorry senators, that was a direct quote. What he meant was that we had to clean them out by inducing vomiting and giving them laxatives.
For most cadets, blowing chunks was pretty easy, especially after that great hot meal that the seniors had so graciously cooked for them. Some of them were able to make themselves vomit by tickling the back of their own throats. Other people drank activated charcoal. It seems that nobody knew that charcoal is for absorbing poison and not for making people spew. They must have confused it with Syrup of Ipecac.

One team leader could not make herself throw up, and the staff "helpfully" dumped a whole container of charcoal down her throat. With her entire chin covered in this black slime, she was forced to turn to the Foxtrot team leader and "his magic finger" to do the job.

She wasn't his only patient either. A line was formed for regurgitation assistance. This was a world before AIDS, universal precautions and the fear of bloodborne pathogens were a part of our daily CAP lives. Each time some cadet would puke all over Foxtrot Commander's ungloved hand, he would flick his fingers toward the ground, swear like a sailor, and yell, "next!" The man was an artist.

Senator DUMKE: Well I certainly hope he was decorated for actions above and beyond the call of duty.
(LAUGHTER)

Lieutenant HANNIBAL: The funny thing is Senator, we didn't see it as anything special at the time. That's just the kind of thing any leader would do. At least that's what we believed at the time.

Cleaning out the other end was a bit more of a mess though. There simply wasn't enough Ex-lax on the whole Island to deal with the forty odd cadets who needed to get flushed. The solution given to us by the doctor was a dose of Epsom salts and water.

Cadets would drink this vile concoction while hearing the advice "Don't stop for anything but your bumwad at your tent!"
(Chuckles.)

A cadet would appear normal for a maximum of 30 minutes to an hour. Then the cadet would have an immediate need to run like the wind to the latrine. Many cadets did not make it, although we are pretty sure everyone at least made it to the woods. Then again, anyone who didn't certainly wasn't going to tell us.

I was flat on my back in Sickbay with a fever of 101o from an unrelated illness during all of this. I remember seeing one cadet outside my window talking to a senior member. Suddenly, he yelled "By your leave, Sir!" and bolted out of sight. When that brew hit you, you had precious little time to drop trousers and defecate. Training cadets can be a messy business!
(Chuckles.)

Someone had the bright idea of opening the Canteen so that the cadets who tossed their cookies could get a candy bar or something. The fact that the candy bars were free was just another indication that The Colonel was truly dead. He never missed an opportunity to make a little money for the school. I have no doubt that he would have marked them up because demand had increased.

Senator DUMKE: The Colonel?

Lieutenant HANNIBAL: Oh, I'm sorry. I mean our old Group Commander. He had died just prior to the school.

Anyway, one of the younger cadets heard they were giving away free candy bars, so he got in line. The staff asked, "Did you drink any tea?"

He said "yes," expecting a nice fat candy bar. Next thing he knows, some big Asian guy in jungle pants and a black commando sweater has two fingers of one hand in his mouth trying to tickle his uvula. The Foxtrot Commander told him "You bite me, kid, and I swear to God I'll kick the crap out of you."
(Loud Laughter)

Foxtrot Commander's "magic finger" did the trick. With puke and bile pouring out of his nose and mouth, this kid started crying loudly and saying "Yeah, I drank tea...but it was Lipton's..." Everybody was like "You IDIOT!" Fortunately he fessed up before the Epsom salts and water treatment...but he never did get that candy bar.

A few days later, after I was returned to full duty from my illness, we were riding the bus when someone started singing jodies. Those are marching songs. The cadets had made up a song about the cadet who had made the tea. It was funny and clever, but it was also a personal attack on him and how stupid they thought he was. Everyone started to join in. Since it was not our policy to single out people like that, and because they were pissing me off by being entirely unfair, I stood up and put an end to it.

I said something like "LISTEN UP! KNOCK OFF THAT SONG! He may have made the tea, but he isn't the stupid one. HE didn't drink any of it. If you were stupid enough to drink it, then sing about yourselves." I then sat down and ignored them. The other staff didn't seem to mind the fact that I had berated their troops, but at that point I didn't really care. The students continued on with their jodies, but that song was never heard again.

Senator FARQUART: Mr. Chairman, as it's almost four, shall we recess for a cup of tea?
(Chuckles)

Senator DUMKE: Oddly, I'm not in the mood for tea right now.
(Laughter)

Senator FARQUART: Well in that case, now that the Lieutenant has related the facts, may I resume my questioning of this witness?

Senator DUMKE: As long as the good Lieutenant has nothing further to add to what is probably the most colorful and graphic testimony we have had in the State Senate in a long time.

Lieutenant HANNIBAL: I'd be happy to answer questions, Senator. Could I get some water though?

Senator DUMKE: Certainly. (Inaudible) Senator?

Senator FARQUART: It seems to me that there was no consideration about disease transmission or the general health and welfare of the teenagers at this activity. How can the State of Michigan be asked to fund this kind of activity?

Lieutenant HANNIBAL: (Raised voice) First of all, sir, that school no longer exists. Secondly, as I said before, you must remember that this was years before anyone had even heard of AIDS. And most importantly, we took the welfare of our cadets VERY seriously. I didn't eat, drink, sleep or even use the latrine until my people had. Do you think the Foxtrot commander put his finger down other cadets' throats because he didn't care? Did I end up in sick bay for days after running myself into the ground trying to take care of my people for fun? The welfare of our cadets was ALWAYS our first priority.

This was an unfortunate incident that everyone learned from. There hasn't been an incident like it in Michigan Wing since then. That's over a period of 9 years.

Senator DUMKE: Senator Farquart, your time is expired. We will now have closing remarks.