| Clearing the Air |
[Jun. 28th, 2007|10:56 pm] |
Had a young fellow with plenty of questions and a little less reservation than most chat me up earlier. Basically, he had the willingness to ask the questions I'm sure alot of folk have wanted to ask, but not felt comfortable asking. According to things I've heard, the military is advising family members no to ask some of these questions, and with reason. Some of them are uncomfortable questions that can really get under our skin.
But because I know that they are questions y'all have wondered about, and the burr is already under my sadle, I'm going to go ahead and give what answers I'm able. Not all of these questions are troublesome ones, but some are (and I'm sure you can guess which ones those are). I'm also opening the floor for questions, but understand I may not answer (and if I don't, please respect that lack of answer, thankyouverymuch.)
Where all have you been while in the army?
Overseas I did a tour in Bosnia (2002-2003) that was preceeded by a month in Germany. I then did two tours in Afghanistan (2003-2004 and 2006-2007). During these trips I also got to spend several days in Hungary, Kuwait, Qatar and Kyrgyzstan. There were layovers where I never left the airport in Turkey and Ireland. (And yes, I have been in Iraqi air space, but no I did not land.)
Domestic, For training I spent nearly two and a half months in Ft. Jackson, S.C, 7 months in Ft. Eustis, VA, a short tour in Ft. Irwin CA (UGH!), a month in Ft. Bragg, and a very, very unpleasant 5 months in Ft. Hood, TX. Additionally I was deployed domestically for wildland fire fighting duty (2000), Vehicle Upgrade Team (2000) State and Federal asset protection duty (2001-2002), Olympic Security (2002), and Joint Operations (2004-2006).
Yeah... it was a busy nine years.
So... what did you do in the army?
As you can see above, alot, often enough not stuff I officially trained for. What I was trained to do was MOS 68X/15X (They changed designators part way through my time in). In layman's terms, I was responsible for maintaining, repairing, testing, calibrating, and loading the electrical, avionics, hydraulics, and weapons systems of Apache Attack Helicopters. Of those responsibilities, the weapons accounted for about 80% of the work I did. Though I was technically qualified for Apaches only on occasion I found myself working on Cobras, Blackhawks and Chinooks, and one Kiowa owing to an absence of "qualified" personnel at the time.
While alot of what I did was wrench turning and spark chasing, the crux of things was rearming aircraft during operations. This basically meant loading 2.75 inch rockets, 30mm shells and Hellfire missiles on Apache's that were completely run up and able to fly in a matter of seconds. I'm sure many of you wonder if it was dangerous. The simple answer is yes. The aircraft was completely run up, which meant the blades were spinning, ready to fly. More than once, I had birds move while I was under them. The bottom of the tail rotor is at chest level and it's motion can be almost hypnotic, which means if you fail to pay attention you could easily walk right into it. This is, by the way, 100% fatal. We were dealing with a wide variety of heavy munitions, some of which have evil reputations. And the equipment used to load could get troublesome. On top of that, it was not uncommon during combat ops (we NEVER did this in training) for us to load at the same time the aircraft was fueling, and the fuel was highly flamible AND poisonous. And as if that wasn't bad enough, under the right settings, the weapons could be operated and even fired on the ground. One idiot pilot could potential injure or kill a man on the ground just by flipping the wrong switch.
I'm proud to say that in my 9 years the worst injury I ever saw happen while doing this was a broken finger.
So, what rank did you make?
I reached the rank of Staff Sergeant. At one point I had ten people under me, including three sergeants. (In aviation that counts as an entire squad, even though in the infantry it wouldn't have even been a fire team). I made that in six years, which is no mean feat even in the Active Duty Army. In the Guard, where many people remain in the same unit for twenty, even thirty years, that was an almost unheard of rate of promotion.
War suck, huh?
Yep.
So why do it?
It only takes one side to start a war, sadly. Pacifism isn't a defense. I could wish it was, but it's not. Someone has to be ready to stand and defend...
But more sanguine to me personally... well... This may sound wrong to people, but there is this increadable feeling of accomplishment when one successfully completes a mission in wartime. You spend years training, complaining and moaning about all that time out in the bonnies busting your butt, eating poorly, living in tents, doing drill after drill... Then one day it's not a drill. Your actions are litterally life and death. And when it all clicks... There's a lot of pride in that. Maybe that's a very perverse thing... being proud that you just did very well at reaching out and enabling death... But the pride of doing it right when it counts is there. It's very much there.
So did you ever kill anyone?
I wish people would stop asking this one. Honestly, it's not such a glorious thing as people seem to think. No, I never actually pulled the trigger with someone on the other end of the barrel. But I've seen footage, and heard the briefs, talked with my pilots... I don't know about all the missions I supported, but there are plenty of occasions where I know just where the weapons I repaired, and calibrated put the ammunition I loaded, and how many people were at that spot. I even got to see it first hand once, as the fire fight was only a couple miles away from my location. I may not have pulled the trigger, but I participated.
Yeah, but they all deserved it, right?
Anyone who says you can fight a war without ever hitting the wrong people is either a liar or a fool. Some of them deserved it all right. But some of them were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.
So, did you get in any fights?
Not of the sort you're thinking of. No fire fights with guns blazing. But both rotations I was in Afghanistan I was stationed in the south. It's really the worst part of the country. That's where the Taliban originated from, and it's still much more supportive of them than any other part of the county. As such, they are pretty agressive there even though the war has been going on for six years. Kandahar, the main base in the south, recieved occasional sniper fire (I know of at least one successful sniper shot), and frequent rocket or mortar attacks. In fact, during my last rotation, there was a period during the summer where the attacks were averaging one every three days. I spent a good deal of time out at tiny little FOBs, which you would think would be more vulnerable. Ironically, not only did they not get attacked while I was at them, but Kandahar seemed to get attacked even harder while I was there. Some people joked I should have been shipped to a FOB permanently for the good of all... Most of these attacks were generally a nuisance, and we got to the point we almost ignored them (we couldn't actually ignore them, as units had to report all their personels whereabouts, which required gathering everyone up to conduct roll calls). Sometimes we'd delay heading back for two or three minutes to wrap up very fast tasks... But sadly, not all of them were simple inconveniences. One such attack killed 8 Canadians. I had three close calls (hits within one hundred yards). One of them was close enough for me to feel the concussion and see shrapnel fly by. That one was exhillerating at first, then the adrenaline wore off... I have no idea how many total attacks I went through, but it had to be approaching 100. Additionally, taking pot shots at the aircraft happened alot. I was never in a bird that got hit, but there were shots fired...
What was the scariest moment?
One of those close calls occured just after I'd bedded down for the day (I worked nights.) I was just drifting off to sleep when it came in right over the building I slept in. One of the other guys I lived with was in there trying to sleep as well. I went for the cieling, he went for the floor at the sound of the rocket motor overhead, both of us screaming at the top of our lungs. We were convinced it was going to hit us. It actually hit about 90 yards away, and no one was hurt, but we both were shaking pretty bad after that one, and we were willing to admit to eachother (but no one else at the time) that we both had nightmares for about a week after that one.
So, ever get wounded?
Nope. Only injury I got was back pain from the armor...
So... Lose anyone?
Several.
Care to talk about it?
Nope.
Bet you have Post Tramatic
No, I don't.
Going to war will change you. Even going once, you're going to go through some bad times. Going three times... Yeah, there are things that happened I'd just as soon not have. But then, everyone goes through bad times. But not everyone has post tramatic. Yes, there are things I remember I'd really rather not be reminded of. But again, who doesn't? And who doesn't have bad days, or occasionally end up in a bad mood? These are not post tramatic. Don't assume every single veteran has post tramatic. Most of us did what we had to do and then came home. We've changed, but we're alright.
Okay, okay... So any fun memories?
What, you thought I spent over two years of my life clinically depressed? Sure! I have plenty of good memories. Believe me, it only takes one guy with a warped sense of humor and the same captive audience trapped together for a year in a place lacking much in the way of civilization, and you'll get some truly outragious moments of hillarity.
And I have definately got such a sense of humor.
And I knew a large number of people similarly cursed.
Yes, we had some good times.
Just one example. One day in Germany, a good buddy of mine managed to "aquire" a truly massive wad of napkins from the chow hall. I was ragging him about it, asking him why he would need so many napkins, and he responded by stating he had no idea, but he'd figure it out. And so he did. A little later I returned to my bunk to discover it was covered in napkins. So I collected them up, and proceeded to stuff them in his sleeping bag. He then put them in my coat. I then took them to his stuff and put one in his shoe, one in a sock, one in a shirt, one in his pillow, one in his hat... etc. etc. etc. I figured he couldn't top that. I was wrong. I returned to my bunk to find he'd flipped everything over... and covered it with the napkins again. So I proceeded to carefully dismantel his bed and place the contents, springs and all, in the hallway still exactly where they all had been on the springs... covered in napkins. Again, I figured he couldn't top that. Well... after a very very long day, where all I wanted was sleep, I discovered that where my bunk should have been, there was nothing but napkins.
He stole the whole bed...
So... can I ask a question?
Yeah... why not?
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