Marines

Know a SEAL from a Night Stalker: a breakdown of US Special Operations units

While it could be said that every unit which falls under the “special ops” umbrella is comprised of operators who can move, shoot, and communicate with lethal efficiency, different units developed to address specialized challenges.

As the years wore on, and particularly since the onset of the Global War on Terrorism, lines may have blurred a bit between specialties in many cases, allowing various units to conduct similar operations. But, the specific nature of each continues to inform the internal culture of divisions that fall under the command of U.S. Special Operations Command (SOCOM), honoring their heritage as well as the prowess their service experience allots.

Many people who understand America’s special operations apparatus are usually most familiar with the elements of one of SOCOM’s subordinate commands, the Joint Special Operations Command, or JSOC. Officially, JSOC is tasked with studying special operations requirements and techniques in order to ensure the best methods of unit interoperability are employed, while fielding new equipment and conducting special operations exercises, training, and missions in the best interest of our nation. To be succinct, JSOC has the “best of the best.” It might help to think of them as America’s war-fighting All-Star team.

Units of JSOC include:

The Intelligence Support Activity, commonly called “The Activity”
The U.S. Air Force 24th Special Tactics Squadron
The U.S. Navy’s Naval Special Warfare Development Group (DEVGRU) or the recently popularized SEAL Team Six
The U.S. Army’s 75^th Ranger Regiment: Regimental Reconnaissance Company
The U.S. Army’s 1^st Special Forces Operational Detachment-Delta, commonly known as Delta Force

However, listing these names does little to clear up potential confusion, so allow me to elaborate briefly on three of these four units.

DEVGRU, SEAL Team 6, and whatever their current (and classified) operational title may be are all referring to the same group of elite Navy SEALs. Team 6 recruits from within, choosing only the best of the already elite Navy SEAL community. Delta is often compared to Seal Team 6 in terms of operational capabilities and grueling indoctrination and training, but differs from its sea-based brethren primarily in recruiting tactics: Delta operators may come from any branch, and are sometimes even former SEALs.

The Air Force’s 24^th Special Tactics Squadron (24^th STS) is perhaps the least recognized of the three, which may be because pararescuemen, combat controllers, and Tactical Air Control Parties deployed by the 24^th STS usually serve alongside DEVGRU or Delta teams, rather than fielding complete teams on their own. These airmen synchronize and control elements of air support or provide medical assistance to other special operators in the field.

Beyond the elite units housed within JSOC, SOCOM boasts a number of other special operations teams that may be best addressed by dividing them by their representative military branches.

United States Army Special Operations Command

Know a SEAL from a Night Stalker: a breakdown of US Special Ops units — (Photo: U.S. Department of Defense)

Special Forces (Green Berets)

The term “special forces” is often misattributed to any military personnel working within America’s special operations community. However, the phrase is actually specific to the Army’s elite group of soldiers who specialize in unconventional warfare, reconnaissance, internal foreign defense, anti-terror operations, and direct action combat. Green Berets are considered unique from other special operators for various reasons, most importantly being put to use in times of peace and conflict alike. Their motto, “De Oppresso Liber” translates to “Free the Oppressed.”

The 75^th Ranger Regiment

Like the Navy SEALs, a highly specialized company of Rangers falls under JSOC, but the rest of Ranger Battalion answers to the U.S. Army Special Operations Command. Rangers are specifically-selected soldiers who must first complete an eight-week long Ranger Assessment and Selection Program—which replaced the Ranger Indoctrination Program, or RIP, in 2010—before reaching their assignment within the regiment. Once there, they must complete the even more arduous Ranger School in order to earn their Ranger Tab.

The 160^th SOAR (Night Stalkers)

The U.S. Army’s Special Operations Regiment (SOAR) provides helicopter aviation support for special operations troops, often flying into extremely hostile territory to deliver and extract elite operators from combat zones. Aviators in the 160^th are among the most highly-trained pilots on the planet, and use the latest in new and modified military aircraft to complete missions often deemed too dangerous for many other aviation units. It was the 160^th that delivered JSOC operators to the compound in Pakistan on May 2^nd, 2011 to kill Osama Bin Laden.

Other units or personnel that fall under SOCOM include skilled civil affairs soldiers, military information support operators, sustainment soldiers, and the training cadre responsible for assessing, training, and educating the Army’s elite war-fighters.

United States Navy Special Warfare Command

SEALs

Navy SEALs are probably the most famous special operations unit in the world. Countless movies have depicted the heroism of SEALs, and even more books recount stories told by individuals who earned the coveted Trident. Unbeknownst to some, SEAL is an acronym that stands for Sea, Air, and Land—acknowledging the heart of the Navy SEALs’ role as a multi-purpose combat force. SEALs conduct operations in any situation or location, from clandestine reconnaissance to direct action missions.

Special Warfare Combatant-craft (SWCC) Crewmen and Enablers

SWCC Crewmen belong to Special Boat Teams often tasked with operating small surface craft for coastal operations and to support special operations missions. Primarily focused on aiding in the infiltration and exfiltration of SEAL teams, these Crewmen work where larger vessels cannot operate, providing close fire support and medical care to special operators on mission. Enablers, like the SWCC Crewmen, offer technical assistance to special operations personnel, including everything from cryptologic support to explosive ordnance disposal.

United States Air Force Special Operations Command

Special Tactics Airmen

Special Tactics Airmen offer a wide variety of operational capabilities derived through diverse areas of training and expertise. Combat controllers are certified air traffic controllers that infiltrate combat zones undetected to simultaneously conduct air traffic control and coordinate air support while also participating in direct action missions. Pararescuemen, or PJs, specialize in both conventional and unconventional recovery operations. The Special Operations Surgical Team offers a rapid deploying and lightweight medical element for trauma life support.

Special Operations Aviators

The men and women assigned to the Air Force’s Special Operations Aviators are considered some of the most exceptional pilots in the military. Flying in specialized aircraft, they conduct operations primarily under cover of darkness, and offer varying levels of support to special operations missions, including reconnaissance, infiltration and exfiltration, and command and control operations.

Marine Corps Forces Special Operations Command

Critical Skills Operators/Special Operations Officers

Marine Corps Forces Special Operations Command (MARSOC) recently reflagged with the historically-consistent moniker of Marine Raiders. They’re the latest addition to the SOCOM organizational structure. For much of the Marine Corps’ history, it operated without any formal association to SOCOM, instead establishing independent Force Recon units in a similar fashion while retaining organizational control. Since MARSOC entered the SOCOM fold, its operators conduct foreign internal defense operations, special reconnaissance, and direct action combat missions.

While this list offers a glimpse into the various facets of special operations units, it’s important to acknowledge that the nuanced differences in culture and conduct exhibited by operators within each can be difficult to quantify.

Each special operations group had to shed aspects of its parent branch in order to better integrate unique skill sets and capabilities with those offered by groups hailing from other branches. However, traditions and culture found within groups such as the SEALs or Marine Raiders remain intrinsically tied to their service birthplaces. There’s always been a fair amount of friendly competition between branches, but once a Soldier, Sailor, Marine, or Airman answers to SOCOM, they must work their way into the new combined culture of the service. SOCOM, in many ways, is an extraordinary beast all its own.

SOCOM operators come from all walks of life, and represent a variety of military occupational specialties established in each of the four branches of American service. Ultimately, these special operators are more than war-fighters: they’re diplomats, problem solvers, and instruments of foreign policy. Only by combining the best and brightest from America’s exceptional military infrastructure can they possibly accomplish so much.

The warrior’s dilemma: My biggest parenting challenge has been renegotiating my relationship with death

On Thanksgiving Day this past November, something incredible happened: my wife gave birth to my beloved baby girl. It had been a long road, much longer than 9 months, and far more difficult a journey than most people realize. The birth of my daughter was more than a momentous occasion for my wife and I, it was something that we had both grown to fear would never happen at all.

We had decided to have a child while I was still on active duty, and after months of trying the good old fashioned way, we finally relented to testing. The process, I’ll readily admit, is a lot easier for the man — since it basically boils down to romancing yourself into a cup and moving on with your life. For a woman, it’s far more arduous. Strangers with strange devices rummaging around the parts of you no one wants to have them. Laying around in MRI machines while doctors inject easy to track dyes to peer into the internal workings of your plumbing. It goes on.

Worst of all for both of us, however, was the guilt. We each stewed quietly, too afraid to bring up the laundry list of reasons why we each felt that our predicament was our own fault.

I’ve done some pretty bad things. Maybe I just don’t deserve to be a father.

Those musings hurt twice over: first because of the shame over what you’ve done to your spouse (“she should leave me so she can be a mom”) and again when you think about your own wish to be a parent. Of course, little did I realize, she was going through her own laundry list of lifetime transgressions – making all the same decisions about her own fault, her own unworthiness, secretly scared that her husband would leave her in search of a more fertile pasture to start his family. Despite having the sort of relationship where we talk about everything, we never talked about these fears. They were too frightening, too real.

Now, in hindsight, I can honestly say that I think my daughter’s delayed arrival did happen for a reason. Had she been born while I was on active duty, my medical retirement would have been much more difficult and I likely wouldn’t have gone back to school. Had she been born while I worked in HR. I probably would have finished my MBA instead of changing majors and you’d find me, miserable as ever, inside my office near the production floor of a defense contractor. If she’d been born during my first year as a writer, none of us could have afforded to eat.

Instead, she was born on the most fitting of holidays: Thanksgiving of the same year that I became a senior staff writer for a website I once followed on Facebook and thought to myself, “one day… I hope I’m doing stuff like that.” I’m living a winning lottery ticket, and I thank my lucky stars every day. I’ve had a lot of jobs, but now I have the two best ones in the world: being a dad, and being a writer.

I’ve never understood the urge parents have to instill fear in expecting mothers and fathers. Everyone warns you, over and over, about the difficulties of parenting. By the time my daughter was born, I had gotten the “you’ll never sleep again,” “you’ll never have sex again,” “you’ll never have money again,” speeches from just about every person I knew that had ever become a parent. People love to tell you that they love their kids, but if you ask them about parenting, they act like it’s a prison sentence and they’re trying to scare you straight. It doesn’t get better once the baby is born either — every stage your kid enters is “the last good one” before the real horror begins. Teething, potty training, bedtimes. All future skirmishes parents are happy to tell you that you’ll suffer heavy losses in.

It’s all bullshit. Yeah, you sleep less. Yeah, you can’t go drop pills at the club on a Tuesday night or whatever the hell it is most parents seem so upset about missing out on. Instead, you get to hang out a little person that, I shit you not, will occupy your every waking thought, fill you with happiness and excitement, and give you a greater sense of purpose than anything I’ve ever experienced.

That doesn’t seem so bad to me. To be honest, I never slept much to begin with.

After 9 months of well-intentioned warnings about how hard and exhausting and miserable being a parent is (and to be fair, there are times when it genuinely is the first two), you finally bring your baby home and suddenly realize… it’s just you guys and this baby. You’re a team facing the challenge of growing up together. Some parts will be tough, some parts will be great, but to be honest — my best experiences, the ones that truly shaped who I am, weren’t the fun-filled and easy going days at Six Flags. They were the times I was with a team, facing challenges and taking the days as they came: the good and the bad. Now I have my own three-person fire team, and we’re taking on the world in just the same way.

But there is one thing I was never warned about — one struggle of parenting that I’m not sure if I share with others. I was ready for the sleepless nights. I was ready for the anxiety of her getting her first cold, and the fussy misery that is teething. What I wasn’t ready for, however, was the realization that having a baby means renegotiating my relationship with death.

I’ve lived the better part of my life with an understanding that death’s looming presence was always nearby. According to a marriage counselor we visited for a while, my pursuit of dangerous situations and hobbies was born out of self-hatred. He and his degrees figured me for a masochist — I assume because he had never pushed himself to the edge, just to peer over and see what lies beyond. He’d never pushed through broken bones, broken hearts, and broken spirits to finish something for the sake of a team. He had never had the opportunity to learn the joy of self-sacrifice; when something great gets accomplished and you know you had a hand in it.

There’s a freedom that comes with knowing you might get hurt or killed and accepting that risk. Whether you’re in a fire fight or climbing a tree to rescue a kitten, you recognize that you could get hurt, you weigh the cost, and then you push forward — knowing that what you’re setting out to do is more important than what you are. I’m going to climb that mountain, I’m going to take that hill, I’m going to fight until the fight is all there is left of me.

But not anymore.

Although I’m old enough to have been a village elder in another era, I’m not so old that there isn’t any fight left in me. I get up each morning and watch the news while I check messages from sources and colleagues – giving me two different accounts of the same flames that seem to be engulfing so much of our world. It’s good for business, of course — if the world stopped burning, there’d be less to write about — but it reminds me of all the battles being fought out there, all the mountains left unclimbed, all the tough days going by without anyone there to experience them.

Now, when I think of risk, it’s only about ways to mitigate it. Now, when I think about death, it’s not in the same sense as before. The presence of death around me used to make me feel more alive by comparison, gave what I was doing an air of importance. Now, for the first time in my life, I’m scared of it.

Not because I don’t know what comes next for me, but because I’m so afraid of leaving my little girl without a dad.

Ideas still pop up: fights that are worth fighting, risks that are worth taking and for a fleeting moment, I get that old feeling again — purpose mixed with excitement — but then I remember the beautiful smiling face of my daughter. I sigh, shrug, and tuck the idea away.

I’ve lost too many friends to be afraid of dying. If there’s any afterlife waiting for me, regardless of how I’m judged, there are sure to be some familiar faces — but without me, my wife has to face the challenges and the joys of parenting alone. Without me, my daughter has to face the adventure, the excitement, and the heartbreak of growing up without her dad.

And I’d miss it too.

I don’t miss sleep. I don’t miss going to the movies. I don’t miss spending more time with friends or not worrying about when it’s time to refill the humidifier in her nursery. These are the changes in me I not only saw coming, but I longed for.

The only thing I do miss, if I’m being honest, is that presence of death. Reminding me that I come from a long line of warriors that valued accomplishment over self. Our society was built on the backs of men and women that were willing to give all they had to a cause, and now I’m not one of them anymore. It’s easy to go looking for a good death. It’s a lot harder, I’ve found, to resign yourself to the long haul… but it’s worth it.

Because I want to see my little girl grow up into an incredible woman. I want to hold my wife’s hand and choke back tears on her wedding day. I want to hold her baby in my arms, knowing that she too will have to recognize that a torch, burning with our warrior spirit, has now been passed to a new generation.

And I have no doubt that they’ll make us proud.

Images courtesy of the author

Editor’s Note: This piece was first published on April 12, 2018 on NEWSREP

Marines now have a new ride for combat operations: The JLTV

The Marine Corps’ Joint Light Tactical Vehicle (JLTV), a new armored platform set to replace the legendary Humvee, has reached initial operating capability (IOC) and is now ready to begin deploying with Marines globally. The platform was designed in a joint venture with the U.S. Army to provide American war fighters with greater off-road mobility and protection against threats ranging from small arms fire to improvised explosive devices.

In an unusual turn of events for new defense initiatives, the announcement that JLTV is ready to enter the fight actually came about a full year earlier than expected.

“Congratulations to the combined JLTV Team for acting with a sense of urgency and reaching IOC early,” said Assistant Secretary of the Navy for Research, Development and Acquisition James Geurts.

“Changing the speed in which we deliver, combined with coming in under cost and meeting all performance requirements, is a fine example of increasing Marine Corps capabilities at the speed of relevance which enables our Marines to compete and win on the modern battlefield.”

The vehicle comes in both two and four door trims, with a wide range of modular combat systems that can be added or removed based on mission parameters. Like most modern battlefield assets, a great deal of emphasis has been placed on network connectivity in an increasingly digital battlespace, while also leverage other top of the line weapons tech for things like remote operated weapons systems that can be fired from inside the vehicle’s protective shell.

Unlike the Humvee (or High Mobility Multipurpose Wheeled Vehicle), the JLTV was built from the ground up to protect its occupants from a variety of attacks. Many service members have complained that adding armor to the Humvee made it so slow and sluggish that it actually made them more vulnerable to attack, whereas the JLTV was designed to more effectively manage the weight of ballistic armor.

A Humvee and a Joint Light Tactical Vehicle stand on display for size comparison at Joint Base Langley-Eustis, Va., May 2, 2017. USAF Photo

Reaching initial operating capability requires more than delivering the vehicles and training Marines in their use. It also means that the program’s maintenance and logistical infrastructure has matured enough to support the deployment of these vehicles around the world. Deploying a combat vehicle isn’t just about getting it there and putting a driver in the seat; it also requires well trained mechanics and maintainers that can manage issues and conduct repairs in theater, rather than redeploying assets back to a U.S. based contractor.

The vehicle started arriving at Marine school houses around the country last year and began shipping out to infantry units last month.

“We are really at the starting line right now. Our grandchildren and great-grandchildren will see JLTVs in the DOD,” said LTV Program Manager Andrew Rodgers. “We’ll easily still have these assets somewhere in the DOD in the year 2100. Welcome to the start of many generations of JLTVs.”

We all make our own sandwiches: A short story about life that got me through the Marine Corps

Two construction workers were hired for the same big job, and although they didn’t know each other, they soon started eating lunch together during their breaks. Each day, the two men would take a seat near their work, pop open the lunch boxes they brought from home, and exchange pleasant, if not superficial, conversation about their day as they ate and rested.

Each day, as both men opened their lunch boxes to survey what was inside, one would audibly sigh and exclaim, “God, I hate tuna fish.” He would then reluctantly pull the plastic wrapped sandwich out of the box, begrudgingly unwrap it, and unhappily chew away at the white bread, tuna, and mayonnaise combination, seemingly willing to weather yet another terrible meal in favor of staving off starvation. Finally, after a week of watching the same spectacle each day, the second construction worker interrupted the daily ceremony of tuna fish and misery:

“Hey man, if you hate tuna fish so much, why don’t you just ask your old lady to make something else?” He asked his lunchtime compatriot.

“Old lady? I’m not married?” The first man replied through a mouthful of his least favorite lunch.

“Then who keeps making you that?” The second man asked.

“Me.” Came the reply. “I make my own sandwiches.”

If I’m being honest, I’m not sure anymore where I first heard that story. It may have been in a book, or maybe it was conveyed to me by some older, wiser guy that spotted me wandering through life with a downtrodden look on my face… but wherever it came from, this short story about two construction workers eating lunch would go on to change the entire course of my life for the better.

At first glance, the story almost seems nonsensical: why would someone continue to make themselves the same lunch, day after day, despite hating it? What type of person would do such a thing? In terms of sandwiches, perhaps not many of us. In terms of life choices, however, I believe it’s something that we all do.

Your tuna fish sandwich may be continuing to work in a job that you hate, ignoring the bills stacking up in your mailbox, eating a third piece of cake despite knowing that you’re full. You may continue to entertain toxic relationships in your personal life, or you might be ignoring the positive efforts of your loved ones. We all do things that make our lives more difficult, and then defend those choices using words like comfort, easy, or worst of all, “deserve.”

“It’s just easier to keep this job than to start looking for another one.”

“I know he treats me badly, but I’m comfortable here and I don’t want to try dating again.”

“I had a hard day – I deserve another drink.”

Now, there’s nothing wrong with making hard choices and sticking with them, just like there’s nothing wrong with rewarding yourself with some cake, vodka, or both when you’ve had a long day or accomplished a goal. The problem arises when you make conscious decisions that will negatively affect your life, and then lament the repercussions as “bad luck” when it comes time to deal with them.

You’re overweight because of your eating and exercise habits. Your relationship is struggling because you need to either put more effort in or leave. Your job sucks because it isn’t right for you. You’re eating tuna fish because you made it. Life isn’t easy, and sometimes we’re stuck doing things that make us unhappy. There’s no getting around that – but often, we possess the power to remove negative influences in our lives, but we choose not to out of fear of change. You’ll keep plugging away at the same old 9-5 because you’re afraid to go looking elsewhere. You’ll keep eating that bag or doritos because the split second endorphin release you get with each bite is more valuable to you right now than how you’ll feel in the morning. You’ll stay with the wrong man or woman because, unhappy as you are, you’re too afraid of being alone.

In the Marines, I often felt as though I didn’t have any power over my own destiny. Where I went, what I did, and how I did it was all dictated by a chain of command and endless SOPs (Standard Operating Procedures)… but it wasn’t until I started leading Marines that I truly started to recognize how much autonomy I had in the execution of my duties. Sure, I may have been stuck in the duty hut for 24 hours – but it was my decision to spend it miserable, rather than studying for my degree. When it came time to deploy, I didn’t choose our destination or timetable, but it was my choice to either pursue learning a new language and culture… or spend who knows how many more hours staring at the wall of my tent and wishing I was somewhere else.

Making emotional allowances doesn’t make you a bad person, or even a weak one – they make you human – but once you decide to stop permitting yourself the convenience of yet another miserable tuna fish sandwich lunch, you might be amazed to find that things really do get better. Hard days will still be there, but they get easier when you stop convincing yourself to do what’s wrong for you, and start putting that effort toward doing what’s right.

You might not have the option to leave that job you hate, but you can change how you approach it. You might not be ready to leave a household that makes you unhappy, but you can address your problems with your significant other. You’re still going to have make a sandwich in the morning if you want to eat something at lunch… but you can decide to make it something you’d want, instead of something you’ll tolerate.

In the Marine Corps and since, I’ve found myself in some pretty tough spots. I’ve been low, depressed, unhappy, and angry – but I resist the urge to blame my feelings on fate. I make my sandwiches, and sure, sometimes I don’t like them. I succeed or fail based on my own decisions, my own efforts, and when I’m met with setbacks, I do occasionally shake my fist at the sky in spite, but then I try to temper my existential woe with realistic objectivity. If I’m unhappy, what can I change? If I’m angry, what needs to be fixed? If I’m hurting, who can I talk to?

Just like that construction worker, we’re each faced with a decision every morning: are you going to make choices that lead to a better life… or will it be tuna fish again?

It’s up to you – because we all make our own sandwiches.

Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

Watch: 360 degree video shows what it’s like to hitch a ride dangling under a Blackhawk

Special Patrol Insertion/Extraction (SPIE) flights offer a unique way to get troops into and out of terrain that a helicopter may not be able to land on. To the untrained observer, SPIE flights might look like a helicopter simply lowers a rope, warfighters clip on with carabiners, and then they get taken for one hell of a crazy ride, dangling beneath the aircraft… and this is one situation where the casual observer would actually be right.

SPIE flights, for all the skill required on behalf of the pilots at the stick of the helicopter, really are helicopter flights with a string of soldiers dangling beneath them on ropes that usually range in length from 120 to 150 feet long. As many as ten soldiers clip themselves to set spots on the rope at different lengths, then as the helicopter gains altitude, it lifts the soldiers one by one. The end result looks like this:

The U.S. Military acknowledges that this method of insertion isn’t as advantageous to the warfighter as simply fast roping out of the same Blackhawk; however, there are some circumstances that simply don’t lend themselves to the traditional fast-roping methodology (wherein troops quickly descend from the helicopter via ropes, rather than hitch a ride tied to one). SPIE methodologies have proven particularly viable for certain kinds of extractions — like out of the water.

The SPIE method grew out of the Vietnam era STABO, or STAbilized BOdy, rig. The STABO rig was developed by Sergeant First Class Clifford L. Roberts, a Green Beret that witnessed one of his fellow Special Forces soldiers get injured when he fell from the McGuire extraction rigs utilized at the time. The STABO served as a load bearing rig for the operator but bore a strong resemblance to the setup used in parachutes. As a result, special operators could utilize quick extractions from the jungles of Vietnam simply by clipping their carabiners to a rope lowered by a helicopter floating above the tree tops. In the dense jungle warfare of that conflict, STABO rigs and the early iterations of SPIE extractions saved countless lives.

If you’ve ever wondered just what it might be like to dangle helplessly a hundred feet below the thunderous blades of a Blackhawk as it sailed through the skies — wonder no longer. The U.S. Army recently released a 360-degree video you can control yourself that offers the most realistic appreciation for SPIE flights anyone can have… short of roping up themselves.

Watch the video below:

The Streamlight TLR-6: Increase lethality of compact and sub-compact handguns

Streamlight is one of two companies I trust with my weapon lights. The TLR 1 is my home defense companion on my handgun, and now the Streamlight TLR 6 is riding tight on my SIG P365. The P365 has become my EDC gun and the addition of a light and laser truly makes it a gun you can carry and use 365 days of the year. The P365 has a proprietary rail, but the TLR 6 does not use the rail, it’s an after thought.

To attach the light around the gun you have to take it apart with the included Allen key. It splits in half and then wraps around the rail, and the trigger guard. You then tighten the light down and get it rocking and rolling. It sounds complicated, but it takes about 3 minutes if you drink a soda. It’s very easy overall.

Rocking and Rolling with the Streamlight TLR 6

The TLR 6 has a small, easy access button on the side of the unit. A simple press by the trigger finger gets everything running. This is an ambidextrous system and it allows control the system very easily. The button is large and easy to press. It’s silent, but it is tactile and allows you to feel the click.

The light has several different modes believe it or not, more than I predicted for such a small unit. The Streamlight TLR 6 has 3 total modes, not including the off mode. The first is light and laser where the light and laser are simultaneously turned on. The next mode is light only, and the third mode is laser only.

The Streamlight TLR-6: Increase lethality of compact and sub-compact handguns

To change the modes all you need to do is hold one button inward and then press the other. This allows you to click through the different modes quickly and easily. Whichever mode you choose will be the set mode. If you turn the TLR 6 off it will remember the mode you set.

The Light

The Light packs a pleasant 100 lumens and it’s plenty bright and capable for concealed carry use. The 100 lumen light casts a wide beam that does fill your vision. It’s more spotlight than torch. The light can easily travel across a large room, and Streamlight claims an 89 meter range. That seems optimistic, but for what it’s designed for it shines brightly and clearly.

The Laser

The laser is a bright red beam. It’s crystal clear and even in the middle of the day the light cna be seen out to 15 yards. In low light situations the light will be super fast and very easy to see. Adjusting and getting the laser on target requires some minor adjustments with a super small Allen key, and its incredibly easy overall.

The System

The system overall is fantastic. The light and laser work together beautifully, especially when you consider how small the overall system is. There also lots of holsters out there already for the combination of the TLR 6 and P365, specifically from Crossbreed in both OWB and IWB configurations. The TLR 6 is so well known that there are plenty of holster makers chasing it down.

The TLR 6 comes in different configurations for different guns, so its not universally compatible. There is a universal kit that will fit several different guns, but guns like the P365 requires their own special model. The TLR 6 is compatible with the G42, G43, G48, G43X, The KAHR Arms guns, the SIG P238, the Bbay Glocks, and some of the Springfield XD series. As a note they will not work with the Poly 80 lower Glocks.

The TLR 6 is an awesome light and laser combination and is an outstanding concealed carry choice. It gives you a light and laser in a superbly small system that does not compromise your ability to easily conceal and comfortably carry your gun.

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