FORT BENNING, Ga. -- The Stewart-Haas jet touched down shortly after 11 a.m. local time.

Make that shortly after 1100 hours. And for the next five hours or so, members of driver Ryan Newman's No. 39 pit crew were going to get to know a whole lot more about the military besides how to tell time their way. They were, more or less, in the United States Army now.

Fort Benning can be a very intimidating place -- for its sheer vastness, if nothing else. Covering 182,000 acres, which translates into roughly 284 square miles over parts of two states (93 percent of it is located in Georgia and 7 percent in Alabama), Fort Benning is a large city unto itself spread out amidst countless training grounds and shooting ranges for everything from pistols to rifles to mortars, various artillery pieces, tanks and unmanned aircraft. One unmistakable sign located not far from the facility's airport warned of a tank crossing -- something not likely to be seen anywhere in civilian life.

"The vastness of the entire base might be what impresses me the most. It takes us 20 minutes to get everywhere," Newman said.

It wasn't long after landing that everyone was ushered into a mess hall for some Army chow. That's what they call the food here and it's pretty good stuff, too, with a wide selection. This isn't your grandfather's U.S. Army -- even if the prices charged seem right out of the 1950s. Breakfast runs soldiers $2.30; lunch and dinner cost $4.25.

Getty Images

Members of Ryan Newman's pit crew are introduced to soldiers from the U.S. Army before starting a day's worth of exercises at Fort Benning in Fort Benning, Ga.

Motivating force

Col. Ryan Kuhn is commander of the 197th Infantry Training Brigade, and he almost immediately started applying some old-school motivational tactics to the No. 39 pit crew. After explaining that Fort Benning is a training facility that sends hundreds of soldiers on to theaters of war every day of every month of every year, he pointed out that "when we do well here, our country does well."

Then, after a discernible pause, he boomed out a question: "Does anyone here not want our nation to do well?"

Met with stone-cold silence and not a show of a single hand, he nodded in satisfaction and added: "No one has raised their hand yet on that question."

A few minutes later, after delivering some good-natured ribbing directed toward former Navy man Mike Casto -- normally the jackman for driver Tony Stewart's No. 14 Chevrolet, but the sole substitute for the day on the No. 39 crew -- Kuhn got down to business. Or rather he got down to giving the business to the rest of the No. 39 pit crew while proving that he had done some reconnaissance on their past performances.

"I hear there is this pit crew competition coming up. Are you going to win this year?" he demanded. "Last year you didn't make it out of the second round, if I'm correct. As we say in the Army, that means there is room for growth.

"We'll all be cheering you on to win it for the Army. There are 1.1 million soldiers in uniform who will be cheering for you. And if you don't get it done, we'll come and find you. I've got bios on each one of you."

With that in mind, apparently, Kuhn had helped set up a little pit-crew competition of his own at the Army base. But before the civilian contingent departed, he reminded all that the extensive, intensive training done by his brigade is important stuff. Moments later after a group of media boarded a large, white school bus, civilian guide Sue Ulibarri unknowingly underscored that fact as she did a head count and shouted: "Let's make sure we've got everyone here on the right bus -- because if anyone gets on one of those other buses out there, they might be headed for Iraq or Afghanistan. That might end up being more of a story than you bargained for."

Getty Images

Members of Ryan Newman's pit crew, left, perform a pit stop on the No. 39 at Fort Benning, then try their luck at changing out the track on a M88 under the watchful eye of the U.S. Army.

The competition

Another 20-minute drive and the bus was pulling into a motor-pool lot where 120 Army vehicles sat. There were 68 Bradley Fighting Machines, 40 Strykers -- and at least a handful of M88s, massive tow vehicles designed to get the others out of trouble in combat if they become disabled for any reason. Sitting right next to one particular M88 was one of Newman's Army-sponsored race cars.

The battle plan: to see who could change a track wheel on the M88 faster between members of the No. 39 pit crew and soldiers who normally service the vehicle. Then they would switch vehicles and see who could pit Newman's car the fastest.

Changing track wheels on an M88 doesn't really occur quickly and, in truth, isn't required very often in the field. One soldier admitted that during a recent tour in Iraq, when he helped service the M88s there, his crew changed a grand total of two in 15 months.

Ryan Newman signs autographs for soldiers at Fort Benning.

“

I've always said that I took it for granted what the Army and the military did for us. Just seeing it up close and getting to come to a base, which is like its own city, is really amazing.

”

-- RYAN NEWMAN

And they don't change them at the same speed of light that NASCAR pit crews change tires. That much became evident soon after the competition began. It ended up taking the soldiers a total of 8 minutes, 30 seconds to switch out the track wheel.

"I knew if they went first, and our guys knew what they had to beat, it would be no problem," Newman boasted later.

He was right. The 39 guys performed the same task in 8:17 -- 13 fewer seconds.

"I'm pretty sure we could have done it a lot faster. But the brigade commander was here and so it was all about safety and everything, which was understandable," said Private Matthew Davis from Somerset, Ky.

Feeling pretty proud of themselves, the members of the 39 pit crew moved into their own arena and ripped off a four-tire, full-gas pit stop in 12.7 seconds. Despite knowing their own had no chance whatsoever to top that time, the soldiers applauded and cheered the choreographed madness. "That's what I'm talkin' about!" one of them shouted.

Kuhn clapped and told his crew: "OK, guys, now we know what we have to beat! Let's do it in 10 seconds or less!"

Right. Having never had the opportunity to practice on the car even once, it was no surprise the soldiers couldn't come close to matching the professionals they were up against. It ended up taking them 44.78 seconds to change four tires and pump in 22 gallons of gas.

"We were just trying to make you all look good," joked Kuhn, gesturing toward the 39 pit crew.

Afterward, Casto and the rest of the crew mingled with the soldiers, passing out their uniform shirts and even their helmets. They signed autographs and pumped hands like celebrities. Newman, who actually is a celebrity by comparison, did the same.

But they were all left with the same thought -- that perhaps it should have been the other way around. Casto perhaps had the most unique perspective. He previously served six years in the U.S. Navy, being stationed for a time in Japan where he worked as a sonar technician on anti-submarine surface ships. He later attended West Virginia University Institute of Technology, where he played football and earned his electrical engineering degree before coming to Mooresville, N.C., to attend the NASCAR Technical Institute.

"It humbles us coming here -- because when I was in the military, I didn't look at myself as anything special. I was just doing the job I was supposed to do," Casto said. "But when I come here and we compare the jobs we have now to the ones they're doing, their jobs are way more important. We look up to them rather than them looking up to us. I mean, I know they look up to us in some ways -- but it really should be, and really is, the other way around. We appreciate everything they do, and as a former serviceman, I understand some of what they're going through.

"When I was stationed in Japan, it was the loneliest feeling in the world. Except for your crew, you feel like you don't have an association with anyone else. You can talk to people on the telephone, but you kind of feel like you're missing everything back home. It's different."

Newman added: "I've always said that I took it for granted what the Army and the military did for us. Just seeing it up close and getting to come to a base, which is like its own city, is really amazing. Then when you talk to some of the soldiers and hear their stories, see what they do, how their business runs from a personal standpoint, it's even more amazing."

Davis said the soldiers were impressed with how fast the 39 crew was able to perform their pit stop, especially after attempting it on their own.

"It seemed like a long time, going down there and doing five lug [nuts] on each tire," said Davis, who tried his hands at being a tire changer in the exercise. "I was going as fast as I could. I don't see how those guys could be that much faster, but that's their job and they're very proficient at it. They beat us easily by 30 seconds or whatever."

But was it really a fair competition? Even Casto had to admit it was not.

"It took us years of practice before we got to this level," Casto said. "For many of us, we've been in this for five years or more. So it really wasn't a fair competition. You can't expect them to come close right off the bat like that, even though they did pretty well under the circumstances."

Getty Images

Crew members of the No. 39 U.S. Army Chevrolet work out on an obstacle course during Ryan Newman and Stewart-Haas Racing's trip to Fort Benning.

The payback

The glory gained by the pit crew in the motor-pool lot was short-lived. The next stop was the training grounds of the 75th Ranger Regiment -- described in Army literature that was handed out to the media as "a lethal, agile and flexible force, capable of executing a myriad of complex, joint special operations missions in support of U.S. policy and objectives." To sum that up, these guys can kick some serious butt.

They also are in some serious shape. Meeting the group as they piled off the buses after yet another 20-minute ride was Command Sgt. Dennis Smith, who proceeded to let his visitors know that his Rangers were in the final stages of preparation for the upcoming three-day event known as the "Best Ranger Competition."

Members of the 39 pit crew climb up one side of the horizontal rope ladder while a couple of Army Rangers move down the other on the obstacle course.

“

They certainly finished us off with a bang, having us drag 180 pounds of dead weight when we were already winded at that point.

”

-- SHANNON KEYS

To give you an idea of how grueling that event is, Smith described it as "an ultra-marathon on steroids. It's the World Series, Super Bowl and World Cup of the infantry rolled into one."

Reminded a short while later that this was a NASCAR crowd and he might want to mention the Daytona 500, too, Smith smiled and insisted: "Yeah, yeah. I said that, didn't I? I remember saying that. Put that in there, too."

The Best Ranger Competition was better described by a couple of young soldiers who were to compete in it -- Sgt. Mike Malko and Sgt. Jesse Collins. They finished third in the event in 2009. Basically for three days and nights, these guys run all over Fort Benning -- well, they swim and climb, too -- reaching certain objectives and performing various tasks in two-man teams on no sleep, eventually traveling up to 75 miles on foot. Oh, and did we mention that they do all this while lugging around 65 pounds of gear on their backs?

"It's like a big backpack," Collins shrugged.

And take note that it is never used for a pillow.

"You're awake for the whole time," Collins said. "It's like 60 hours."

The 27th annual edition of the Best Ranger Competition took place last weekend at Fort Benning. Speaking of it beforehand, Malko described what he and Collins had come to expect.

"There could be some movement, maybe a run, and then you go into a machine-gun shoot. And from there, you could go into some more running, swimming, mountaineering type stuff ... it all varies," Malko said. "We've got a competitor's book that gives us the general layout and concepts, ideas or what they're trying to have us accomplish ahead of time. But there are some mystery events that we don't know -- and that we won't know about until we get out there."

To prepare, Collins said the Rangers work out five, six times a week. Their training these days, ironically enough, is the same sort of flexible, cross-training approach being used more and more by pit crews like Newman's as well. It's dedicated to improving the strength of their body core while avoiding endangering anything else.

"We're doing a little less running now and a little more cross-fit type of stuff," Collins said.

Malko added that it's "more functional body movements instead of tearing your body apart by running 10 miles, five miles, and getting overuse injuries. This type of training is a whole lot more practical."

One look at the ominous Ranger obstacle course that is an integral part of their training made it obvious that it's pretty darn tough, too. Smith seemed to revel in the fact that he had some fresh meat on hand in the 39 pit crew. He stretched 'em out and set them to work on the obstacle course.

"They're gonna do great," he said with a wink.

Pretty soon he was yelling at them, calling them "ladies" in general and female names in particular when he wanted to single some of them out. He and his Ranger associates put the pit crew's own teams of two through the paces at a relentless tempo that left them panting after they were done, with the final exercise being to drag 180 pounds worth of sand bags around a track that appeared to be a mile or more long.

At first it appeared they wouldn't be cajoled into doing the most difficult aspects of the obstacle course, such as the rope ladder climb, but eventually Sgt. Smith and his fellow soldiers put them all through most of the stations they go through regularly themselves. About the only aspect of it that members of Newman's crew were spared was the Worm Pit where if you are supposed to lift yourself across a muddy pit by grabbing onto bars overhead and hoisting yourself forward -- and if you fall, you land right in the waist-deep muck. Oh, and after surviving that, soldiers who normally do the course are then expected to jump into some shallower muck on the other side anyway and then belly-crawl underneath barbed wire until they get to the finish line.

"I was hoping we wouldn't have to do all that stuff," said Shannon Keys, front-tire carrier for Newman's team. "I had my fingers crossed anyway. They certainly finished us off with a bang, having us drag 180 pounds of dead weight when we were already winded at that point."

Getty Images

Ryan Newman poses for group photo with his pit crew and soliders/officers of the 175th training brigade at Fort Benning.

Day of reflection

About 30 minutes later, Keys reflected on the fact that at least he didn't have to try to endure the Worm Pit.

"Of course, after all the other stuff we did, that refreshing dip in the water might not have been too bad," Keys said.

All the while his crew sweated and panted through the exercise, Newman sat back looking amused by it all. Asked if he thought he could climb the rope tower and descend down the other side safely in a timely fashion, Newman simply nodded and replied: "I could do it if I had to. But I'm not feeling like I have to right now."

The rest of his gang was in too deep to turn back by then. Their self-pride was on the line. They had to complete the grueling run. And when they did, when the last of them staggered to the finish and literally sank to his knees before gulping water, Newman was there waiting with a smile but little sympathy.

"You OK, kitten?" he asked.

They all were fine in the end, if a little sweaty and smelly for the plane ride back home. Keys wondered if word had spread to the Rangers that the pit crew had whipped up on the Army in the earlier "pit-stop" competition and if they were sending a message in response.

"If there was any payback to be served, this definitely did it," Keys said. "I guarantee every one of us is pretty beat down right now. Our heart rates are up, but the rest is beat down."

When all was said and done, there was more in common between these guys than initially might have met the casual eye. Their training methods aren't that far apart and their determination to be the best they can be at what they do is obvious.

Standing afterward in a gathering pool of his own sweat, Keys said as much.

"This training they do here, it's serious. You can tell a lot of thought has gone into their program," Keys said. "Our guys teach us that our core is everything; that if you lose the strength in your core, you pretty much lose the ability to do everything we do. My hat is off to these guys. They're brave, but they're obviously also in super, super shape.

"We exercise three or four times a week, and I'm pretty sure these guys are in better shape than we are. I've got a lot of respect for these guys out here. But this is the real world for these guys, you know? They're training for what's real. We're just training for entertainment. The amount of respect we have for these guys, I can't even really begin to describe it."