I flew as a passenger in helicopters many times in Vietnam, and was always enamored of those pilot’s panache about their images. One flyer I’ll never forget sported a red handle-bar mustache and flew with a scarf about his neck that matched that shade perfectly.
Their deaths always seemed a more certain sense than mine. But I guess they knew that they were the cavalry of the sky, while my lot while not aboard as often was to be left below.
Today, every time a helicopter flies over I cannot help but take note of its type and try to visualize the man, or woman flying her. Their ship! And only wish it were me at her cyclic and collective.
You were given a great honor once, and saw it through.
Thank you for your service. And I’ll still think of you as the next one flies over.
Yeah, not much panache these days. I once drew a small design on my helmet visor when I was deployed to Bosnia. The ALSE (Aviation Life Support Equipment) guy yelled at me and talked about it during command and staff in front of the battalion commander.
When our battalion was deployed to Iraq, our call sign was “Bosox”. We painted small Red Sox B’s on the nose of our aircraft. The letters were maybe 18 inches at most. Yup, we got in trouble for that too. Sigh.