Page 5 of Confessions of an Apache Pilot

Instead, the Colonel was kind and seemed genuinely interested in learning more about me. Like I said, it was nice, but it also made me feel odd. The ass chewing was expected; this threw me off my game a bit.

“This is going to be different than they told you. The whole task force is spread thin. We have aircraft all around the country at various Forward Operating Bases, or FOBs. Normally, you would be here with your standard MEDEVAC team and MED chase, a second Black Hawk crew, but we can’t afford to double up. Instead your chase bird will either be a Chinook or an Apache. You’ll fly with them or, when they don’t have a mission, they’ll fly with you.”

“Sir, that’s…unusual”. More like virtually unheard of. “The Chinooks shouldn’t be a problem, they’re faster than we are, but the Apaches, they can be quite a bit slower. That could be a real problem.”

“It could be. Likely it will be. But you can’t fly solo, it’s too dangerous, and the Chinooks won’t always be available. It’s something you guys will have to work out.”

I bit my lip trying to think it through. You didn’t have time on a MEDEVAC call to wait for a slow aircraft. The Colonel was right though, flying solo was very dangerous. Insurgents took every opportunity to shoot rocket propelled grenades, RPGs, at any helicopters flying alone. When we needed to land we always took an Apache with us to cut down on the likelihood of attack. At the moment I didn’t see a solution to the problem, but I hoped something would come to me. The Colonel wasn’t done talking, so I focused back on him.

“Your team will also be covering the CSAR mission.”

“Sir?” I asked. CSAR was Combat Search and Rescue. It was a dedicated team, usually run by the Air Force, that looked for pilots that had been forced to land in hostile territory, whether it was due to mechanical problems or being shot down.

“You are CSAR trained, right?”

“Yes, sir, I’ve been through the training and certification, it’s just that I’ve never heard of being assigned to both MEDEVAC and CSAR at the same time.”

“Now you have. Parked next to your MEDEVAC aircraft is a HH-60 Black Hawk with mounted door guns and a hoist similar to the one in your MEDEVAC aircraft. If you’re called out for a search and rescue, something we all hope never happens, then you’ll take that bird, and your crew chief and medic become door gunners.”

“Understood, Sir.” Already this was becoming more complicated than any plans I’d had.

“Have you met the Chinook or Apache crews yet?” he asked

“I haven’t met the Chinooks, the Apaches… sort of.”

He laughed. It wasn’t hard to see that he knew what they’d done. He also didn’t seem to be in a hurry to chastise them. Having leadership that took a more hands off approach was going to be a nice change of pace. Then again, maybe if he’d been more involved, the problems between the helicopter communities might have been shut down before they got too bad. What I thought didn’t matter. He was in charge here, and all I could do was take orders and hope I could help mend the rift.

“The Apache crews here are solid, and they won’t disappoint you, on mission,” he assured me.

On mission? What the hell did that mean? It looked like everyone was used to the Apache crews’ antics. Off mission, they’ll just set the airfield on fire for funsies and start fights with your ex. Out loud I said, “Good to know, sir.” With that introduction over with, I headed back to my room to start unpacking and get some rest.

CHAPTER 3

Jen

Laura and I were chatting, catching up as she gave me a tour of the base. It was evening now, just before sunset. The time of day where it wasn’t exactly cool out, it just wasn’t boiling hot. Despite the high mountains we flew over, MES was at a low elevation, which meant it was hotter here than at some of the other bases. Nighttime got rid of the scorching heat, but it was still summer, so it never cooled completely.

She led me through the Apache’s Command Post, or CP, the area where you could find the Apache pilots who were on duty. Then through the Tactical Operations Center or TOC, the main radio room that coordinated all the aviation assets. After that she took me past the recreation area, and through to the maintenance hangar. The hangar was a large building that looked like a giant tent. It was big enough to fit two helicopters inside. There were toolboxes, hoists, cranes, and other equipment lined up neatly along the side walls.

Sitting in the middle of the hangar was a soldier duct taped to a swivel chair. My gait stuttered as I saw him, and I shot a questioning glance at Laura. She ignored me and walked up to him.

“So, if you can’t find me in the CP or in the rec room, come out here,” she said while inspecting the man. She tugged at the duct tape on his arms, looked at his hands and slowly spun him in the chair. “He’s good, no circulation cutoff or anything.”

I walked over to the soldier, he looked up from Laura to me with slight irritation but mostly resignation. “Laura,” I said in disbelief, gesturing toward the man.

“Oh, sorry, I lost myself for a second there.” She walked over and grabbed the man by the shoulders and spun him to face her. She patted his cheek, smiled at him big enough to have her dimples peeking out, then gave a gentle twist of his shoulders. He groaned as he spun in a circle. All I could do was stand with my mouth hanging open.

She turned back to me, “Anyway, let me show you where we put our gear.”

“You’re not seriously going to leave him like that?” I asked. I was so shocked I didn’t really have the ability to elaborate on why we shouldn’t leave others duct taped places.

Laura looked at him critically for a moment, then back at me. Her face was a mask of confusion. “I didn’t tape him to the chair.”

“That’s not…that’s not the point. We need to help him out of there.”

“Absolutely not,” she said, folding her arms under her breasts. Her face took on a decidedly defiant look.

“Why?” I asked, my arms still outstretched to the continually spinning man. To my surprise he looked at me like I was the crazy one. Even he seemed to think my suggestion was out of line and he was the one stuck to a chair.

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