2008.08.28
Panic at 1500 Feet!
Bags on the airfield
Connaugton, Connaroe, and Major Brott (bossman)
Staff Sergeant Murrell
So there I was...
seated towards the front of the passenger cabin of the Chinook, which is an aircraft that looks like an olive drab school bus with helicopter blades attached, with the rest of my team at 1500 feet. Despite the constant airflow similar to standing in front of a man sized fan at a gym, sweat poured down our backs underneath our helmets and body armor. The only light came from the instrument panels and the moon.
My view was of the center of the aircraft where all of the bags that carried the gear that we would use for the next year lay piled in the middle of the aircraft, as our backs were to the wall. The man to my immediate right was the aircraft crew's gunner, who kept watch out the open window for enemy below. The three men directly across from me were Murrell, our communications sergeant, Monty, our medic, and Major Brott, our bossman respectively with Major Brott seated beside the gunner on the opposite side of the aircraft.
Suddenly, the mighty Chinook dipped and everything in the cabin was illuminated in green. Then, I heard a pop from behind me outside the aircraft in the general direction of the source of the green light. Murrell's jaw drop with sheer hysteria across his face. He looked left then right repeatedly, asking "what's happening" in both directions but not waiting for a response. Murrell's mannerisms were reminiscant of Donald Duck when Chip and Dale have stolen something from him. Then, I heard Major Brott yell, "Don't worry Murrell, flares deploy automatically when they detect a threat!"
Monty, who had ignored the crew's request for all passengers to buckle up, frantically searched in the green light for either end of his safety belt. Just as sudden as we had dipped, the Chinook banked left hard. Monty abandoned his search with the slogan "you can learn a lot from a dummy" echoing in his mind and braced himself with the next best thing: the left and right buttocks of the brave men on his right and left. With two hand fulls, he ducked his head between his knees, going into tornado drill position, as he held on for his life.
I sat, watching the scene unfold, with quite an advantage: the gunner beside me. He did more than protect me that night, his look of only marginal interest at his surrounding and unconcerned scratch of his sack conveyed to me that all was quite well. I sipped from my cool water bottle and noticed Major Brott, who is an Apache pilot by trade. Major Brott grinned from ear to ear and I could see that his line of sight led directly to Murrell's clenched teeth.
On the ground, Major Brott recounted the story of Murrell with great amusement. He explained to the rest of us that while the flares deploy automatically in order to draw a heat seeking missile away from the aircraft, the crew also tests the flares regularly. "We had witnessed nothing more than a test," he laughed. I as well got a good laugh hearing the story but mostly because, unlike Major Brott, I did not have to rub the soreness from my buttocks, as I heard the story.
And that's the story of my team's arrival at our forward operating base in Baghdad.
Note to readers: The phrase "so there I was" is commonly used when recounting a story in the army to denote the the following story is about 90% true, embellished at the expense of others.
For starters, there was no view of the other side of the aircraft, so "jaw dropping hysteria" reduces the credibility of this story by 20%. Furthermore, nobody could hear what the person next to them was saying, much less across the aircraft. Another credibility hit of 20%. Therefore, the legitimacy of this story remains around the 50% range: Author is full of it.
Comment by Murrell — August 28, 2008 @ 8:25 am
Rich,
This last blog entry made me laugh out loud. You have a way of writing that really puts the reader in the moment with you. The line about the medic with one hand on the buttocks of the men to his left and right, hilarious. I'm glad to know that the situation wasn't serious though. It's also good to know that despite the seriousness of the task at hand, that there are times when you boys can just let loose and have a little fun. Take care, and keep up the good work.
Comment by Eva — August 28, 2008 @ 8:46 am
Too funny. Poor Murrell. I don't suppose he'll find a way to retaliate? Be sure to keep us posted.
Glad you all made it safely and are settling in. Take care, and keep your chin up.
Comment by Melissa T. — August 28, 2008 @ 12:07 pm
Readers, do not be fooled by Murrell's attempt to discredit my credibility as a witness.
Take notice that he did not refute any portion of the story.
Murrell, even if what you were saying were true, it would make the story 60% legitimate, not 50%. Of course, that is a big IF. You're just sore, and you have only Monty to blame for THAT!
Comment by Rich Connaroe — August 29, 2008 @ 1:19 am
I'd just like to point out that Maj. Brott's entry "Episode 5: Heat-Seeking Missiles, Gen. Petraeus and Chuck Norris" at http://www.ssnewstelegram.com pretty much verifies CPT Connaroe's account. (P.S. I'm the editor that handles Maj. Brott's blog entries here in Texas.)
Funny story no matter who tells it.
Comment by Bruce Alsobrook — August 29, 2008 @ 7:12 pm
We have our own "war" going on here at the "I". A lot of pucker and tightening buttocks action as Rats are welcomed once again by a hungry but professional cadre. Bet you wish you were here but then again, it was the "here" that so adequately prepared you for the 'there". God 's favor and close attention to you and your team. CHAP
Comment by Chaplain Park — August 29, 2008 @ 8:30 pm
CHAP,
I have never forgotten where I have come from. VMI did a lot to prepare me. I miss it often and envy the rats.
Also, meeting with you weekly did wonders for me spiritually.
Bruce,
Thanks for backing me up.
All,
Bruce is the editor of the Sulfur Springs News Telegram. Sulfur Springs, Texas being the hometown of two of the members of my team. What are the odds?
Major Brott, the bossman, has a blog on it. He as well told the story of Panic at 1500 feet. Sergeant Connaughton, my battle buddy, responds to the fan mail and questions for him. Judge for yourself who tells it better. Either way, you can see that all the main components of the story are true. http://ssnewstelegram.com/blogs/?q=node/197
Murrell's blog:
http://murrellmitt.blogspot.com/
Murrell chose not to write about this story.
Comment by Rich Connaroe — August 31, 2008 @ 1:21 pm
I enjoyed your version to complement Major Merv's version (he is my little brother). I would say that all of you men who are sharing your experiences, besides being brave soldiers, are accomplished writers. Keep up the good work on all fronts.
Comment by Tony — September 11, 2008 @ 8:16 am
Tony,
I am thankful constantly that Major Brott is our team chief. He's competent and level-headed. I am proud to serve alongside him.
I am glad to hear that you enjoy my writing. The bossman may have told you so allow me to reaffirm it: I am the storyteller of the group. But, eh, when you're handed gold, it's tough to screw it up and was I blessed with a golden team or what?
Anyhow, honestly, I shy from telling stories on this blog, as to not create confusion between reality and stretched reality. The key phrase is 'so there I was.'
Now, back to business. Major Brott is your kid brother, eh? I have made up 'so and so reminds me of...' for each person on the team. At first, the bossman was Shrek; however, he one upped me with Bull from Night Court, wow, he's so on the money. Of course, we call him Sir, Major or, my favorite, bossman. Please, send other nicknames and embarrassing stories as soon as possible. My team thrives on making light of tough times.
Rich
Comment by Rich Connaroe — September 11, 2008 @ 12:24 pm