User 1019
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Jul 25, 2004
- Messages
- 17,679
When I was 19, and a young private first class in The Man's Army, my unit (a military police "outfit," as my grandfather would call it) was providing security for a special forces unit while the snake eaters were doing whatever it is they do. We were securing some of their information facilities and training areas, etc. You know, really exciting stuff for a 19-year old boy. ::)
One day, we were working near one of their Black Hawk helicopters, and one of the pilots asked if we wanted to go for a ride. My squad leader pointed toward me and another young soldier and said, "Take them." I almost broke my leg trying to get to the seat beside the door before my buddy (I didn't realize there were two doors ... duh). We were hot, nasty, smelly, tired and ready for a shower after about six days without. But we'd forgotten about that by the time we were in the air. It was awesome, to say the least. Lots of low-level turns, steep climbs and descents, and even a few tricks (flying backwards, etc.) kept me fully engaged and on the verge of pulling a BYH in my pants.
That's when a funny thing happened. With all the air rushing through the cockpit and passenger area, I noticed something. A new smell -- not jet exhaust. Something different. Exciting. Fresh. THAT ****ING PILOT WAS WEARING COLOGNE!!! I'd been sweating my cha-chas off for six ****ing days eating nasty ass MREs, sleeping in the woods, and this SOB's wearing Drakkar Noir (it was the 90s, you know ;) ). Hell, it could've been Hai Karate, for all I care.
Something clicked in that aircraft, and I knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. Right then and there, three_bags_full was gonna sit in the front seat and drive one. "One of these days."
Well, just under 11 years later, I'm finally gonna make that dream come true. At about 1300 local, my instructor will say the four words I've been working to hear for the past 10 years: "You have the controls."
So, throw up a prayer for me. It'll be rough (if I paid any attention in the simulators this week), and certainly won't be pretty. But it'll be mine.
Sorry for getting sappy and corny on you. Just wanted to share.
Here's what I'll be flying for the next 20 weeks.
One day, we were working near one of their Black Hawk helicopters, and one of the pilots asked if we wanted to go for a ride. My squad leader pointed toward me and another young soldier and said, "Take them." I almost broke my leg trying to get to the seat beside the door before my buddy (I didn't realize there were two doors ... duh). We were hot, nasty, smelly, tired and ready for a shower after about six days without. But we'd forgotten about that by the time we were in the air. It was awesome, to say the least. Lots of low-level turns, steep climbs and descents, and even a few tricks (flying backwards, etc.) kept me fully engaged and on the verge of pulling a BYH in my pants.
That's when a funny thing happened. With all the air rushing through the cockpit and passenger area, I noticed something. A new smell -- not jet exhaust. Something different. Exciting. Fresh. THAT ****ING PILOT WAS WEARING COLOGNE!!! I'd been sweating my cha-chas off for six ****ing days eating nasty ass MREs, sleeping in the woods, and this SOB's wearing Drakkar Noir (it was the 90s, you know ;) ). Hell, it could've been Hai Karate, for all I care.
Something clicked in that aircraft, and I knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. Right then and there, three_bags_full was gonna sit in the front seat and drive one. "One of these days."
Well, just under 11 years later, I'm finally gonna make that dream come true. At about 1300 local, my instructor will say the four words I've been working to hear for the past 10 years: "You have the controls."
So, throw up a prayer for me. It'll be rough (if I paid any attention in the simulators this week), and certainly won't be pretty. But it'll be mine.
Sorry for getting sappy and corny on you. Just wanted to share.
Here's what I'll be flying for the next 20 weeks.
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