Nobody Asked Me…

Edit- Oops, I was wrong, Dems only run EIGHT of ten cities with the highest poverty rate…

Sigh…

You know you’re from California if:

1. Your coworker has 8 body piercings and none are visible.

1.  You make over $300,000 and still can’t afford a house.

1.  You take a bus and are shocked  at two people carrying on a conversation in English.

1. Your child’s 3rd-grade  teacher has purple hair, a nose ring, and is named  Flower.

1. You can’t remember .. .is  pot illegal?

1.  You’ve been to a baby shower  that  has two mothers and a sperm donor.

1.  You have a very strong opinion about where your coffee beans  are grown,
   and you can taste the difference between  Sumatran and Ethiopian.

1.  You can’t remember … is pot illegal?

1.  A really great parking space can totally move you to tears.

1.  Gas costs $1.00 per gallon more  than anywhere else in the  U.S.

1. Unlike back home, the guy at 8:30am at Starbucks wearing a  baseball cap and
   sunglasses who looks like George Clooney…… really IS George Clooney.

1.  Your car insurance costs as much as your house payment.

1.  You can’t remember …is pot  illegal?

1.  It’s barely sprinkling rain and there’s a report on every news station:  “STORM WATCH.”

1.  You pass an elementary school  playground and the children are all busy  with their cells or pagers.

1.  Or It’s barely sprinkling  rain outside, so you leave for work an hour early to avoid all the weather-related accidents.

1. HEY!!!! Is pot illegal????

1.  Both you AND your dog have therapists, psychics, personal trainers  and cosmetic surgeons.

1.  The Terminator was your governor.

If you drive illegally, they take your driver’s license. If you’re here illegally, they want to give you one.

Boosting the signal here… Ask The Skipper had this post up yesterday.

For those who’ve never had to deal with it, the Navy and Marines DO try to take care of their own. However, bureaucracies move slowly at times. These guys are running a lean/mean group to get help there first. I’d strongly suggest you add them to the possible donation list.

I have thoroughly enjoyed reading your posts over the past few years.  They never fail to generate a tiny glimmer of hope that reason and rational thought can and could be applied to the NAVAIR behemoth.  Please indulge me to share some background before I get to the real reason behind my correspondence.

I am part of the “Exodus”, however small or large, I am one of those guys (2004 year group) on that golden path who just had enough.  Not bitter and jaded though, a little frustrated maybe, but more fortunate and content.  With each and every job I found myself in yet another unique and lucky circumstance where I somehow reached down and pulled a fist-sized diamond of a mission or assignment.  Here we go:

After being one of the first SNAs to fly the new T-6 (albeit I did have to survive Air Force primary at Moody, AFB) I was assigned Helos. Just like that the little 5 year old who had worked every waking moment of his whole life to be a Navy fighter pilot saw his dreams vanish in an instant.

“Oh god anything but helicopters, I didn’t even put that down on the sheet.”

“There’s a war on and all I’ve ever wanted to do was to put on those gold wings, point my grey aircraft toward the earth and break stuff with it.”

I was told that the best chance of getting in the fight was with the air wing and then maybe someday HCS-4. So, I selected HS out of advanced and ended up deploying with CAG-8 on the TR in 2008.  I was in a great squadron and CAG, the workup cycle was fun and we were finally on station taking the fight to the Taliban.  Well, I was flying plane-guard and watching my buddies come back to the boat with empty bomb racks.  Don’t get me wrong, I was having a great time as the AVARM Div-O and a new aircraft commander.  However, most people who fail to ultimately achieve their goals move on to something else.  I, on the other hand, got to watch people doing the very thing I would give anything to do on a daily basis.  I couldn’t take it anymore.  I wasn’t angry, just determined.

I sought the advice of a former HS pilot who was now a DH in one of our Rhino squadrons who gave me the transition rundown. At this point in time I was right in the middle of my JO tour so I had to pull the trigger on this transition sooner than later, which meant it was time to sit down with the Skipper and XO  to politely tell them that I wanted to leave the community.  These guys were awesome. I mean, you’ve never met a front office that was more on the same page with each other and even tempered to boot. Even then I knew I’d never draw a CO/XO combo like this ever again. They were the kind of team that always had your back. Even keeled gentlemen who implicitly trusted you as a pilot and never once killed a messenger. I wasn’t afraid to ever bring them bad news but I’d be damned if I didn’t already have a solution in the next breath. This is the only reason I approached the CO with what would otherwise have been my professional demise. Even still, I was really nervous as I sat down on the naugahyde covered cruise box crammed in front of the first row seats in the ready room that night. He patiently listened to my case and told me to go find out about the process and we’d discuss it further. That was that. A day or so later I got a call from the SDO that the Skipper wanted me to come down to his stateroom.  I tossed on my flightsuit with all of the speed and nervousness that comes from being summoned to the top of the JO’s “last place on earth I want to be” list.  Here’s how it went.

“Don’t worry about that transition stuff right now. I need you and your roommate to pack your bags to leave tomorrow.  I’m sending you two out on the Anti-Piracy detachment with the XO.  Oh by the way, you two are going to be combat-crewed together.  Don’t eff it up, have fun.”

A couple of days later we were patrolling the Gulf of Aden, single ship, out of radio range, guns out, sniper team onboard, and looking for a fight.  That kind of freedom instantly erases any misgivings a 25 year old LT had about what was right or wrong with his lot in life, ever.

After we got home we did a unit PCS to Norfolk, transitioned the squadron from the SH/HH-60 to the MH-60S and moved to Norfolk. As the QAO, I got to receive 8 brand new birds from the factory and life was good. One morning in January, I was in the ready room watching breaking news about an earthquake in Haiti when the skipper walked in, called me a lucky SOB, and told three of us we had 90 minutes to go home and pack a 6 week seabag.  That night we joined 22 other helicopters on the Carl Vinson and headed south. Over the next 6 weeks, I logged over 100 hours doing some of the most meaningful and solemn work I will ever do. In stark contrast to the overwhelming sense of tragedy was the complete awesomeness of coming together with my RAG classmates, all senior JOs now, in the four other squadrons aboard, as we turned CVN-70 into CHN-70.  The Admiral let us have at it and we had a hell of a good time organizing and executing that mission.  It’s a whole other story unto itself.

Shortly thereafter I was picked up for the SEAWOLF WTI course and spent my shore tour at the HSC Weapons School in Norfolk.  It was a fantastic tour working in the air and on the ground with JSOC units, teaching CAS, and improving CSAR.  The autonomy that came with being a SME and the ability to have real impact throughout the fleet was amazing. The countless Air Wing Fallon dets and ARP workups were fulfilling and fun to facilitate and fly.  I even got to team up with another WTI and come up with the plan on how to best employ the new M197 20MM gun.  We were able to work out a drug deal with some 160^th DAP pilots who hosted us at Fort Campbell to teach us.  Then we, as the new SMEs, turned around and taught the next squadron to deploy with it.  By the end of the tour I had worked out a Skipper to Skipper agreement that next assignment would be with the HSC-84 Redwolves.  They needed experienced pilots and their future was still bright at this point.  Things were looking up, we would stay in Norfolk, and HSC-84 was the place to be to get in the action.

Nothing like a detailer to mess it all up.

“I don’t care what you think you worked out, but Guam needs a Squadron Training Officer.”

FDNF it was.  We moved out to Guam to one of the largest helicopter squadrons in the fleet where I inherited the responsibility of the tactical readiness of 120 pilots and aircrewmen.  This squadron also has the unique challenge and privilege of maintaining a Coast Guard SAR/MEDEVAC alert 24/365 on top of providing two deployed expeditionary detachments.  A rapid series of unexpected changes of command had also left the organization with more than a few challenges.  It wasn’t all fun, but it sure was an enriching experience.  We were expecting child number three and the grind of the past 9 years had taken its toll.  I had made the 0-4 list on the first look and DH was sure to follow.  Did we want to keep doing this?  I deployed two days after our first child was born and the time away hadn’t slowed down since.  I didn’t really sign up to be a Skipper and command a squadron. I signed up to be a Naval Aviator and do cool stuff with airplanes.  That had definitely happened, lady “operational” luck had smiled upon me multiple times. I looked in to taking an FTS slot at HSC-84/85 and their future was uncertain as best.  Yeah I had had enough, it was time to try something else. I dropped a don’t-pick-me letter to the board and sought life elsewhere. Guam was a great experience. I flew 3-4 days a week and got to do some amazing work out there.  My bosses backed my decision to get out 110-percent and were extremely helpful throughout the process.  This was the perfect time to call it. Ten straight years in the cockpit, at the top of my game, and with no regrets.

So here I am, a first year MBA student at Columbia Business School in New York.  Thankfully there are two other members of the Exodus with me here.  A Cobra WTI “Chili,” and “Donger,” an OSPREY/PHROG pilot who also did a pump as a JTAC.

Now to the point of this email.

Chili and Donger are two of the three founders of The Wingman Foundation (wingmanfoundation.org).  TWF is a Marine and Navy Pilot run non-profit whose sole mission is post-mishap relief for those killed and injured in Naval Aviation mishaps.  This includes aircrew, passengers, flight deck and squadron personnel, and JTACS.  After a series of mishaps in the HMLA community and the first aviation loss in Operation INHERENT RESOLVE, Chili, Donger, and Bronco decided that passing the hat around the ready room just didn’t cut it or have any real longevity.  We fill in the immediate gaps where DOD doesn’t move fast enough.  Last summer a Camp Pendleton based Osprey crewman broke his back during a crash in Hawaii.  The Skipper called us and we had his wife at his bedside within 24 hours.  The bureaucracy just can’t really do that.   We are also forming a veteran surviving spouses network to be on call to come in to help if requested by a recent surviving spouse.  All immediate requests come through the squadron CO or OMBUDSMAN.  Longer term, we preserve the memory of the fallen through erecting and maintaining memorials while also having hometown streets or other venues renamed in their honor. These guys have done a great job getting word out on the Marine Corps side.  They brought me on as the Naval Aviation guy.  I’m currently reaching out to most of my contacts and plan to do an East Coast road show to give our pitch to the various COs and Commodores. We currently have about $120K in the coffers. We’ll be a CFC charity next year and are going to try to be a permanent part of the Tailhook/NHA/ANA festivities as well.  This spring we are holding an inaugural gala on the Intrepid and plan to have some heavy hitters in attendance.  Our goal is to run awareness of this thing all the way up to Naval Aviation Hallway.  Nobody on staff gets paid. It’s a small for-us-by-us team of nine guys who are on active duty or recently transitioned to upper-tier MBA programs.  We plan on doing this as long as it makes sense and then passing it down to the next generation of flyers.

You are always a great source of sage advice and I wanted to fire this your way.  While this letter was mostly an informational vent I would like to work with you to put out the word about the foundation on the website.   Thank You for taking the time to read this.  I sure enjoyed writing it all down today.  It really puts things in perspective.  Please check us out at wingmanfoundation.org and tell me what you think.

So there it is. No hidden agenda. Not a paid plug. Just goodness. For a small group of guys who stepped out of uniform, you can’t argue that they didn’t find a way to continue meaningful service.