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"Hell of an Adventure"


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Alright ladies and gents, I have thought about posting this here for a few days. With this site being an online nexus of all levels, I'm concerned about how it will be received by ya'll because of the solemn gravity, I took much positivity from it. Stories like this reinforce my ambitions and I want to share.

 

This is a post made by a 58 driver I came across. Some of you with a few years in will likely personally recognize the story. Just compelled to share it here, worth a read I think:

 

 

Hell of an Adventure

***THIS in no way represents the opinion of the US Army/DOD/etc****

Not many people I know personally ever check tumblr. In some ways it’s a safer place. It’s a place I can go to indulge in my fandoms and guilty pleasures… a place I can go to take a break from the rehab… from the studying.. from the planning.. and the piecing of my life back together. AND I finally feel like I am almost there. A couple days ago I became really excited at the prospect that for the first time in 6 years my life will finally be my own again. These past 6 years have been one hell of an adventure that I wouldn’t trade for anything… I might even be bold enough to say that I wouldn’t even trade my legs back for ‘em… not sure yet.

The people that I’ve had the privilege to train with… to fight along side.. and more importantly to fly above. That’s what drew me to the Army in the first place instead of the air force or the navy. I wanted to look into the eyes of the guys in the ground to let them know I was watching over them.. I also wanted to look into the eyes of the enemy as I took them off the field. Don’t mistake that last comment for a type of joy or pride at taking a life. I hate thinking about it… BUT I do find solace in the fact that THAT was the life an American saved… or maybe even an Afghani civilian.. or an ANA.

There were rough days along the way… days where I wasn’t sure I would make it through flight school. Days where I had to tell myself (like during SERE C) that there isn’t a thing on this earth that I couldn’t endure for a few days if it meant that I got to touch the sky. Flight school, in some sick twisted way, was a bit like college continued BUT a little more serious… there was more at stake… and the people that I went with.. most had deployed multiple times… so the ones that had families were loving the time off from deployment during flight school to spend with their families.. so you were often invited to share a thanksgiving meal or a Sunday watching football with their family. OR for those that were single… their weekends were a little harder than those of the most wild college kid. I dunno.. when you go through that kind of stress… when you’re not around it you just want to celebrate and take in life almost as if your life depended on it. Got to my first unit.. first real taste of the Army… and right away could tell that this would definitely be a trip. Some great guys… some sh*t bags… some super stars.. some red necks… but at the end of the day… you all were working for the same purpose.. the same ultimate goal. AND THAT mattered more than anything else.

You go through progression to spread your wings a bit… you navigate additional duties.. you go through traditions of being the new WOJ… breaking in your stetson.. spur ride.. and damn did you think the world of what you did and the guys you flew with… like you were damn near untouchable… else you at least would go doing what you loved. Then you go to do your job… the one you’ve been training for years to do and hopefully do well. The learning curve was steep.. like being expected to run a sub 5 minute mile when you’ve only ever been able to run a 7 minute mile. But you push everyday to do better.. part of it is personal pride. Part of it is pride in your troop.. most of it is for those guys that put their asses on the line everyday.. going through the wadi’s… or rounding everyone up in the village. A lot of the guys that flew the 58 were prior ground guys. It makes perfect sense that ground guys would pick that airframe.. that mission. You fly the lowest to the ground still close to the mission you grew up on. EXCEPT.. now you have a bird’s eye view.. with bigger and better weaponry… and you get to cover them the way you wish you could have been covered (or maybe the way you were covered.. maybe that’s what brought them to the 58). Some of the best days were when you were bullshitting with the same RTO that you’ve been working with for months… or when you saw an I “heart” BAM BAM (our call sign in AFG) on top of one of their MRAPs. The worst days were when you heard them scared getting ambushed with small arms fire over the radio.. depending on you.. I think the worst day for me (besides the crash) was when we came upon a convoy that was just hit.. and you see one of them giant armored mraps completely cut in half… a crater that belongs on the f*cking moon where the middle of the vehicle used to be… and you see a mix of black charred metal, earth, and red blood.

Man these 6 years… they’ve felt like a lifetime alone (not in a bad way). I can’t begin to recount the stupid conversations… the jokes.. the bullshitting… the fights.. all the experiences you collect along the way. I don’t even know where to go with this now. I think part of why this is hitting me so hard right now.. is that now.. for the first time in two years.. I finally have some time to reflect on it all… on deployment… on the crash.. on death… on this injury.. on my recovery.. on piecing my life back together… and not to sound like a f*cking chick… it’s pretty f*cking intense. It’s been non stop ever since… and I’m overwhelmed when I’m faced with it all. Like I’m looking at a treasure that came at almost too high a price. But at the end of the day I know it was worth it. So I’ll pack up what I’ve earned and figure out how to spend it as I move forward. I know there is still a specter of responsibility that shadows over me… or maybe it’s a better analogy to say that I have to figure out the best way to spend this treasure that I’ve fought so hard for… the best way to share it. We are all called to always do our best.. to be our best… and push others to be their best REGARDLESS (or irregardles) of what situation we may find ourselves in. There is still a bit of fight left in this chair bound scout. We’ll see if I can’t go out and earn a better death than the one I’ve cheated.

 

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  • 2 weeks later...

Thanks for posting that, (although I didn't need anything else to remind me of how bad I want an airframe that will not be on the list.)

 

I'll second that. I've wanted to fly the Kiowa for the EXACT reasons he outlined. As a prior Infantry guy I figure it would just feel "right". But alas, that's not going to be, and honestly I'll be happy flying anything in the Army.

 

Shout out to the SHAMUS guys if any of you all are on here. Afghanistan in '09 would have been a bit different without some of those CAS calls.

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