Birth Pangs of the Coming Age | Chapter 4

Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends. (John 15:13)

Previously, twenty-year-old Katie Whitefeather graduated from Ketchikan High School and became a US Army helicopter pilot. Her first duty assignment is to a Forward Operating Base in a Middle East combat zone. She’s still studying local procedures so that she can be released to fly as copilot on medevac missions. Three of her fellow pilots adopted her and gave her the callsign ‘Poca.’

Chapter Four

The Narrow Path

Forward Operating Base (FOB) Freedom, Kygyristan, January 1st, 0800 hours

Katie sat alone in the squadron mess hall, enjoying a bagel with lox, toast, and coffee when Lieutenant ‘Tiedown’ Horowitz barged in, slamming the door against its stop. He immediately saw her and came straight to her table.

“Poca, we’ve got a mission to fly. Leave your tray and let’s go!”

“What? I’m not released yet.”

“I know. I just woke Dingle up. He said that if there wasn’t anyone else available, I’d have to take you.”

As they hurried to get their flight gear, Tiedown explained, “T-BAR and me were on standby this morning in case any medevac calls came in. But T-BAR ate something that didn’t agree with him, so now his hiney is glued to the toilet. After last night’s New Year’s Eve party, you’re the only other pilot sober enough to fill my copilot’s seat.”

As they hurried to the helicopter, she asked, “What’s the mission?”

“Some Green Berets working with a Kyrgi village got ambushed in the Tanger Valley. Tanger’s an enemy-controlled area, so we’ll have two Apache gunships to escort us. I’ve got the Green Berets’ location coordinates and contact frequency. That’s all I know so far.”

At the aircraft, Tiedown quickly briefed their two crew members, a flight medic and a crew chief, about the mission.

He concluded with, “Miss Whitefeather’s still in training. Chief Hutchins is sick, and she’s the only copilot available, so cut her some slack, okay?”

The crew chief nodded, mumbling, “Yes, sir.” The medic rolled his eyes and gave a thumbs up.

Katie felt a rush of adrenaline as she strapped into the copilot seat. She’d followed Uncle Andy’s example, taking advantage of the Army’s ‘High School to Flight School’ program. Now, after two years of training to become an Army warrant officer and medevac helicopter pilot, she was finally going on an actual mission.

While the crew chief stood in front of the Blackhawk, holding a fire extinguisher and facing the pilots, Katie observed Tiedown going through the H-60 Blackhawk’s startup checklist from memory. We’re not in flight school anymore. They’d never let us do anything without reading from a checklist.

Tiedown shouted “Clear!” out his window.

The crew chief standing outside gave him a thumbs up, and Tiedown pressed the starter button.

Katie felt the aircraft come alive as its engines, drive-shafts, and rotors spooled up, each component with a distinct sound and vibration. Cumulatively, they were like an orchestra, all harmonizing together in a unified symphony.

As Tiedown quickly switched on radios and navigation avionics, each one added to the symphony inside her helmet. She heard the base ground controller clearing pilots to taxi, the current weather information broadcasting in a repetitive loop, and the constant background hums of their GPS, Inertial Navigation System (INS), and Automatic Direction Finder.

When both engines safely reached idle RPM, the crew chief climbed aboard and stowed the fire extinguisher.

A motion in her left peripheral vision caught her attention. She looked over to see Tiedown privately kiss a cross pendant, then replace it under his T-shirt.

He handed Katie a 3x5 card with the soldiers’ coordinates and contact frequency. Over the intercom he said, “Plug these in please.”

While Katie worked on entering the Green Berets’ coordinates into the Blackhawk’s GPS and INS navigation systems, Tiedown talked to the Apache pilots on the UHF radio.

Tiedown transmitted, “Viper three-one, Dustoff two-three. You ready?”

After getting clearance to taxi, all three copters met at a helipad, took off, then flew in a loose formation at their maximum speed of 150 knots to rescue the wounded Green Berets.

During a lull in the twenty-minute flight Katie said, “I thought your callsign was Tiedown, but you’re using Dustoff 2-3?”

Tiedown responded, “Yeah, for security reasons we don’t use our personal callsigns on the radio. Ever since Vietnam, Army Medevacs have used the Dustoff callsign. I’m Dustoff 2-3. You’ll get your Dustoff callsign when Dingle releases you.”

“Yeah, my uncle was a Dustoff pilot in Vietnam.”

“Cool. You’ll have to tell me about his experiences when we get back.”

At 10 miles from the LZ, Tiedown switched his transmitter selector switch from UHF to FM to call the Green Berets on the ground. “Dallas 6 this is Dustoff 2-3. Is the LZ cold?”

“Dustoff 2-3, Dallas 6, we have two pax. LZ is secure and quiet.”

So, they’ve got two wounded soldiers, and the landing zone is secure.

“Roger. We’re three minutes out. Pop smoke.”

Ten seconds later, Katie saw red smoke billowing on the ground ahead.

Tiedown said, “Dallas 6, verify red smoke.”

“Dustoff 2-3, that’s affirmative. Red smoke.”

On the intercom, he told Katie, “We always verify the smoke color in case the bad guys try to lure us into a trap with their smoke grenade.”

Tiedown rushed his approach to get on the ground quickly. During the last 50 feet, the Blackhawk’s rotor wash kicked-up enough snow to partially block their view of the ground. She felt the Blackhawk’s tailwheel hit the ground harder than normal, then Tiedown quickly but smoothly lowered the collective pitch control to bring the aircraft down solidly on its front wheels. With all three wheels on the ground, he engaged the parking brake to keep the helicopter from rolling while they loaded the wounded soldiers.

Helicopter Flight Controls

Wow, she thought, they don’t teach you to land like that in flight school.

The moment the main wheels touched down, the flight medic slid the left cargo door open, and both crewmen jumped out to receive the two patients.

The two gunners stood ready on the Blackhawk’s machine guns, one on each side of the aircraft, scanning for any enemy.

As the snow around them settled, Katie watched soldiers hurriedly carrying two stretchers toward the aircraft’s left side.

Her first sign something was wrong was when she saw the stretcher bearers sporadically ducking in jerky motions. Do they hear someone shooting at them? Katie couldn’t hear any gunfire from inside the helicopter, and Tiedown didn’t look concerned, so she sensed no immediate danger. This is getting interesting.

Tiedown switched his transmitter selector from FM to UHF, then calmly said, “Viper 3-1, we’re taking sniper fire from the treeline 100 meters west of our position.”

“Roger, Viper 3-1 is inbound, weapons hot.”

Katie heard a loud noise behind her. She turned to see the first stretcher sliding onto the cargo floor. The wounded soldier’s mangled leg was missing below the knee. There was a tourniquet above the stump. That tourniquet saved the soldier from bleeding to death. The flight medic jumped in and started attending to the man, hanging an IV from the cargo compartment’s ceiling.

Tiedown saw her transfixed by the gory stump.

He said, “Poca, after patients are loaded, a Dustoff pilot’s rule number one is ‘Don’t look behind you.’ Some things you’ll see can mess with your head. Focus your attention forward so you can fly them back as quickly and safely as possible.”

She nodded her agreement.

Katie felt something like a 5.0 earthquake shaking their aircraft, then she heard six explosions and felt their concussions in rapid succession. In the treeline to their west, Katie saw plumes of black and gray smoke rising, and large pieces of trees and foliage falling back to the ground. Five seconds later, an Apache gunship passed overhead, then it banked hard to the right to turn back in the opposite direction.

“Viper 3-1 is outbound.”

“Roger, Viper 3-2 is inbound.”

The two Apaches flew at opposite ends of a racetrack oval pattern. As soon as one turned away, the other turned toward the target.

Ten seconds later Katie felt, heard, and saw another series of explosions in the treeline. Then she saw the second gunship fly overhead.

“Viper 3-2 is outbound.”

The lead gunship pilot said, “Dustoff 2-3, that should take care of the bad guys in the treeline.”

Tiedown responded, “Roger that Viper. Good shooting!”

Fifty meters directly in front of her, a movement caught Katie’s eye. She focused in terror as a Kyrgi man stood up with a large tube balanced on his right shoulder. It’s a Rocket-Propelled Grenade launcher! And he was aiming it right at her!

She keyed the intercom and yelled, “RPG ahead!” Then she saw the flash of the rocket’s exhaust. One second later, the RPG warhead exploded into her helicopter’s cockpit.

Blasted into unconsciousness, she heard what sounded like a grand piano crashing down from a 10th-story apartment onto a concrete sidewalk—all 88 keys pounding at once.

She felt no pain, and no sensations or awareness of the physical world at all. She didn’t see, hear, or feel anything from that realm. But strangely, she was still completely self-aware. Am I dead? Is this what it’s like to die? Am I now a spirit without my body?

***

Ketchikan, Alaska, One month earlier, December 2nd

On a screen in her mind, Katie watched a replay of her last day with Uncle Andy…

She piloted his bright yellow float plane down for a smooth landing, then water-taxied toward his dock. As they slowly approached the dock, Andy jumped out. Standing on the plane’s left float, he secured the plane to the dock with two ropes, fore and aft. Buster and Katie joined him.

As the three walked up to Andy’s waterfront cabin, he carried a heavy stringer of four 18-inch Dolly Varden. “If you get the fire going, I’ll prep the fish and vegetables.”

“That’s a good deal for me,” she said.

“Consider it your going away present.”

Katie arranged the kindling. Moments later, a roaring fire danced in the outdoor fire pit.

As flames transformed logs into coals, Buster sat at her side. She petted his head while they both absorbed the fire’s radiant warmth. Even though it was early December, the air was just cool, not yet cold, and a rare, deep blue sky reflected on the cove below Andy’s cabin. Andy’s bright yellow airplane contrasted against the evergreen mountainside on the opposing shoreline. I’m really going to miss this place.

She consciously inhaled a long, deep breath of crisp, salty air as she savored the sights and feelings. Tomorrow, she thought, I’ll be leaving these deep greens and blues, and this cool, clean, salty air, for landlocked Kygyristan. Everything there will be the same shade of brown.

But she was eager to get into the combat zone. She wanted to prove herself in battle, like her uncle Andy, who sewed his Vietnam medevac unit’s patch on every new leather flight jacket he ever owned. She wanted to earn the same glory, the same respect, and the same reverence people showed to him in their town.

In fact, she hoped to enjoy even more prestige than her uncle. He was a white male from the lower 48, so his combat exploits were not surprising to anyone in Ketchikan. In contrast, she was a Klinatok female, an orphan barely 20 years old, and her community had no such expectations for someone like her … especially with her history.

She’d prove Auntie Ella wrong. She’d make her clan and her parents proud of her.

During the last two years, while Katie was in Army training, most of her high school friends had already settled into an annual cycle of seasonal cannery jobs, cutting and gutting fish 12 hours a day for six months each year, then living on government assistance during the off season. Half the girls in her class already had babies. A few were married. She was once on that path herself.

Instead, she now had a promising career as a US Army warrant officer helicopter pilot. She’d already shattered stereotypes among the native residents in Ketchikan.

Andy carried a platter containing fish fillets, potatoes, sliced bell peppers and onions, salt, pepper, butter, and two place settings. He set the platter on the table, laid the potatoes directly on the coals, then relaxed next to Buster and Katie.

He looked pensive, like he wanted to say something but was holding back.

When he saw steam coming from the potatoes, he turned them. With the potatoes half-done, Katie moved the fish and vegetables from the platter onto the grill.

She heard an eagle’s call, then looked up to see a pair of bald eagles circling overhead. They want our fillets.

Katie said, “Be right back.” She ran up to the cabin, with Buster following closely behind.

She returned with a plastic bag containing the four fish carcasses—each with its head, spine, and guts attached. Standing at the end of the dock, she flung them, one by one, onto the water’s surface.

As Katie stooped to rinse her hands in the cove, Andy said, “Eagle TV tonight!”

After returning to her chair, knowing this will be their last evening together for a long time, Katie asked, “Do you have any advice for me?”

Looking down into the fire, he spoke. “You’ve been flying since you came here, so I know you’ll fly the pants off anything they put you in. Piloting won’t be a problem for you.”

“My advice concerns situations you may find yourself in, especially flying medevac. In Vietnam, the enemy liked to use wounded GIs as bait. Everything would be quiet when we landed in the LZ. Then, as soon as we started loading our pax, they’d spring an ambush. Your instinct is to escape, fly out of the kill zone, but if you do, you’ll be leaving wounded men behind. So, you might escape and save your life, but you’ll be haunted forever by regret and shame.”

She turned the fish and vegetables on the grill, then basted the fillets with melted butter and sprinkled everything with salt and pepper.

“I hope you never find yourself in a situation like that. Because, if you do, your natural impulse will be to pull pitch and get the heck out of there. In life, but especially in combat, you need to be mentally prepared for unexpected threats to your life.”

Katie asked, “How can you mentally prepare for something unexpected?”

Andy said, “Here’s an example. After the Last Supper, Jesus told Peter he would deny him three times before the rooster crowed the next morning. Peter protested, saying he would never deny Jesus. In fact, he loudly bragged that he would die with Jesus before he would deny him.”

“Peter was sincere when he said this, but he hadn’t counted the cost. And so, after Jesus’ arrest, when Peter was unexpectedly confronted by people who said they’d seen Him with Jesus, Peter panicked and saved his own skin by denying three times that he knew Jesus.”

“Then the rooster crowed. At that moment, Peter saw Jesus look directly at him. The Bible says Peter went out and wept bitterly. But it was too late. He had denied the Lord.”

“After His resurrection, Jesus forgave and encouraged Peter. But Peter lived with the shame of this momentary failure for the rest of his life, until he himself was crucified for his faith decades later.”

“So, the key word is ‘unexpected.’ Peter loved Jesus, and he was confident that he’d never deny Him. But, because he unexpectedly felt his life was being threatened, his self-preservation instinct overruled and overpowered his mind. He was caught off-guard, he let fear take over, and he regretted it the rest of his life.”

“We can learn from Peter’s failure. We all need to ‘count the cost’ and pre-determine how we’ll act if our life is unexpectedly threatened. Our self-preservation instinct is powerful, so you need to define your personal code of honor … what are you willing to die for?”

She said, “Wow, that’s heavy.”

The Narrow Path

She plated the fish and vegetables. As they enjoyed their feast, they watched the pair of eagles make two trips each, swooping down to grasp all four hunks of fish in their talons and fly away.

Uncle Andy continued, “The same principle that applies to deadly threats applies to your career and to your reputation. Compromise isn’t always bad, but we all need to pre-determine our boundaries, beyond which we won’t compromise. Self-respect and a clean conscience are more important than anything the world system can give you.”

Andy said, “I feel like I’m dumping a truckload of advice on you, but this is my last chance before you leave tomorrow, so please let me get everything off my chest.”

Katie said, “It’s okay. I asked for it and I’m listening. What else?”

He continued, “I want to talk about success. Wealth and rank are the world’s metrics for success. This success is genuine, but it’s temporary, and short-sighted.”

“In the afterlife, billionaires and presidents will have less status than today’s homeless beggars. Remember the parable about the rich man and Lazarus? All worldly success will be burned up. But genuine success is measured by following the truth in every situation.”

“Following the truth is not popular in this world, which is passing away, but it will always lead you closer to God’s kingdom, which is glorious and eternal.”

Katie said, “I plan to do both. I’ll follow the truth, and hopefully I’ll get promoted, too.”

Katie saw Andy wince. He mulled over her statement as he added three logs onto the coals.

“Katie, we're players in a bigger story, a spiritual battle between good and evil. And that’s not just folklore. The spiritual realm and the battle there are actually more real than the physical realm we live in. We can’t see it, but we’re involved in this war between God and the Devil.”

Katie nodded. She remembered the angel who visited her in Kataan, and the fragrant wildflower meadow he led her to.

When her fillets cooled sufficiently, she shared a sizable piece of fish with Buster, who sat by her side. He gulped it straight down.

Andy said, “I’m going to quit beating around the bush and give it to you straight. Here’s what I mean. You’ve got a good and tender heart, Katie, and flying with the Army has been a blessing for both of us. But the Army bureaucracy is part of Satan’s world system, and we’re members of God’s kingdom. These two kingdoms are at war with each other, and none of us can be faithful to both. We all must choose. So, eventually, the world’s bureaucracy will test you to determine your loyalty.”

“Will you compromise the truth and follow their philosophies and dictates, like ninety-nine percent of people do? Or will you walk the narrow path, alone, and follow the truth? When you’re tested, no matter what the cost, I encourage you to follow my two simple rules.”

Katie raised her hand like a schoolgirl. “I know! Do everything as unto the Lord, and choose to follow the truth in every situation.”

“That’s my girl! High five.” They slapped palms up high.

Staring into the fire, Andy said, “One last thing. You’re young, female, beautiful, and Klinatok. You can’t control what other people think, or how they’ll see you as different from them in some way, but if you follow these two rules, you’ll always have self-respect and a clean conscience before God and men.”

Looking into the fire, Katie nodded in agreement. “Thanks uncle, I will.”

***

The screen in her mind faded to black. From far away, she heard men frantically shouting, but she couldn’t understand them.

Deep within her mind, Katie slowly became aware of the darkness surrounding her, as if she was in a windowless room with no light. The voices were getting closer. They were frantically shouting, “Wake up! Wake up!”

She struggled to gather her wits and ascend out of the darkness. Finally, she gained control over her eyelids and willed them to open. She saw the crew chief, desperate in a cloud of gray smoke that filled the cockpit, frantically shaking her, yelling, “Wake up! Wake up!”

The smell … like a firing range when everyone shoots at the same time, filled the air.

Along with the smoke and the smell, the noise of twin turbines, the vibrations of transmissions and rotors, chaos, and fear filled the atmosphere.

She felt a stabbing pain in her left arm. And the left side of her face felt strange, as if it was wet and open to the air.

Dazed, she remembered the RPG, and she realized where she was and what had happened. As her mind cleared, she looked around to orient herself.

In the left seat, she saw Tiedown’s mangled, bloody corpse. The left half of his head was gone. Blood, brains, and charred pieces of flesh splattered the inside of the cockpit. She remembered his last words to her: “Rule number one, don’t look behind you. Some things you’ll see can mess with your head. Focus your attention forward so you can fly them back as quickly and safely as possible.”

She averted her gaze forward, toward her instrument panel.

Coming Next Week . . . As Katie regains consciousness, she sees more American soldiers who need to be rescued from the LZ. Can her battle-damaged aircraft fly? As the enemy tightens the noose, what will she do?