On A Dime

It is becoming clearer every day that events here can turn on a dime.

One moment everything is quiet and still, the next there is a huge burst of M-2 (.50 cal) gun fire and several small explosions and then, just as suddenly, it's quiet again. One minute you are chilled by the fact that someone may be dying right then, the next moment you are chilled by the cold desert nights. Not that I'm afraid of anything happening to me personally. I really don't fear for my safety. But once in a while the entire situation makes me stop and realize that every thing here is tenuous at best.

Tonight presented one such moment. It's quite cold outside and there is a mission planned for later in the evening. There is a nearly imperceptible edge to the tone of peoples voices and their overall attitudes. No one is nervous, per se, at least not any more than they would be preparing for any other mission. A better word would be focused. Everyone is focused on what part they play in tonight's mission. It's like this every time our guys are preparing to go out. But tonight, it would turn out, is a bit different. Tonight, for some, History and Fate would conspire to change the future.

On any airfield you have what's called a FARP (Forward Area refueling Point). Aircraft of all sorts will move to this location at the beginning of every mission to top off and then again at the end of the mission to refuel. This is tricky business in the day time and even more so at night. Tonight, one of the units stationed here had a UH-60 Blackhawk with 6 or 7 personnel aboard. It made it's way to the FARP and set down to refuel. As this was going on, an AH-64 Apache approached under night vision, and not seeing the Blackhawk, pretty much landed on top of it. I can only imagine what the next half second must have been like in the middle of that mess. By the time we knew what was going on all that could be seen from our position was a big fire down by the FARP. Remember, there is a lot of jet fuel at the FARP so naturally we all kind of held our breath a bit. My first question dragged slowly out of my mouth. I was afraid of the answer. "Is it ours?" "No" someone nearby, standing in the darkness answered. My heart leapt back to life as I slowly exhaled. The calm yet jagged preparations of the evening were turned into a few tense moments for our battalion as we stood on the roof of our TOC (Tactical Operations Center) and watched the fire rage.

I think you'd have to be made of stone not to look at a scene like that and ponder your own mortality. None of us here fear death neither do I invite it. Certainly we court it on a regular basis, but were it to become our focus we would surely become less than effective. Nevertheless, I couldn't help but think about all those men that at that moment were standing on the edge of eternity, wondering in a split second if they would see tomorrow. I could hear the prayers of their families back home. I could see Christmas gifts that are still in the mail, headed for a recipient who may not be here to receive them. I could see a commander struggling over what words would be appropriate for a letter of condolence or sympathy.

Yet where History and Fate conspired, God intervened. All of the personnel in the Blackhawk escaped without injury. No one on the ground was injured. Only the Apache pilot and crew lost their lives. God again proved that despite the fear and confusion of a moment, He is still in control. His mercy is an unfathomable thing.

It is becoming clearer every day that events here can turn on a dime.