Warriors

Possibly the proudest moment of my life was late one night at a fighter pilot reunion. The temporary tourists had gone to bed and the hospitality suite was manned by the hard core, standing in small clusters with a beer or something stronger and simply enjoying being alive much longer than we ever thought we would.

I was with Mack Angel, who had been an instructor when I checked out in the F-105 and who followed me to Korat only a few months later as one of the first Wild Weasel pilots. Roles were reversed and instructor became student as former students with combat experience shared what they had learned about staying alive in a very hostile environment. Mack and I were talking with The Godfather of fighter aviation, Robin Olds.

Suddenly Robin grasped us by the shoulders, spun us around and with one of us under each arm, shouted to the ceiling, "Warriors!" It was as great an honor as I have ever received.

I'm reading Sebastian Junger's "War" and find him saying many things I said briefly in When Thunder Rolled.

Embedded in Afghanistan and Understanding

Junger talks in knowing detail about fear. He knows first-hand about it and he describes the different ways individuals deal with it. I didn't know that others were afraid when I was. I only knew that I couldn't let them know about my weakness. In the intervening years many of my squadron mates have confessed to having exactly the same feelings. Even the ones that appeared fearless were dealing with something inside each day, every mission, every flight.

Why we fight is also addressed in "War". Junger's got it perfectly. It isn't about making the world safe for democracy or about patriotism or about John Wayne heroism. It's about not letting the other guy down. It's about doing what needs to be done. It's about staying on the wing when your leader needs you and respecting your wingman's capabilities when you take him into the dragon's jaws.

After a while you resign yourself. You live or die and you come to the realization that living or dying is something you risk every day whether at war or at home in bed. In time you may succumb to the jazz, the adrenaline rush, the life-on-the-edge exhilaration that I called "stealing hubcaps."

Junger's got it all and describes it perfectly. Every man's war is a bit different, but at the bottom line it isn't the war but the way you acquit yourself that really matters.

"Warriors!"