Postcards from Tradocia

thunder birds

I swear, the helicopter pilots around here must love their jobs. They hurtle through the air all day and night, roaring over our trailers and our motor pool, as if to flaunt their aerial freedom to us lowly humvee drivers.

The Black Hawks are most numerous – pairs of them are always in the air, taking off and landing for patrols and other missions. They don’t fly sedately like they do in the US; rather, they fly low and as fast as possible, thundering over the trailers on a regular basis, shaking the floor and rendering conversation impossible.

A pair of Apache attack helicopters were patrolling one day, and when they reached their turnaround point, one of them pulled up in a near-vertical climb and swung the tail around in an approximation of a hammerhead turn and came back down – just for the hell of it.

A pair of Kiowas (little scout helicopters) usually land near our motor pool too; they’re not nearly as noisy but they’re more nimble. This morning two came in to land, and instead of just turning and dropping onto the pad, one of them turned wide and came in low right over my site, blasting me with his rotor wash. Cocky bastards!

3 Comments

  1. Holly

    I’m glad, and relieved. I think about you alot, especially the twice a day when the 4 jets make their fly-over in formation. I salute them just for you. ^_^ Stay safe, my friend.

  2. cindy hoppe

    Hurray- I’ve been watching for this post from you since the fighting began in Fallujah. Although I think about you everyday, since today is Veteran’s Day, you are at the center of my thoughts. Thank you for your service to our country and helping to bring freedom and liberty to the world. Today we should all sing the Signal Corps song (if we could remember the tune!) and think about you and your fellow troops:

    In the time of war, no matter where you are,
    There you’ll find the Signal Corps!
    When the long lines file, weary mile by mile,
    They’re the ones who are at the fore.
    When there’s big news coming and buzzers humming
    When Springfields rattle and the big guns roar,
    With a flash and flare, over land and air,
    Comes the word: That’s the Signal Corps.

    In time of peace, our duties never cease,
    There’s drill and work to spare;
    In the field we go with our radio,
    And we talk to the empty air.
    From our short-wave stations, we call the nations,
    From Greenland’s mountains to the South Sea shore;
    Every day we say, we’re in the Corps to stay;
    “See the world with the Signal Corps.”

    When the doughboys hike on the hard turnpike,
    We’ll be there to show the way;
    When the big guns roll toward their far-off goal,
    We’ll follow them day by day;
    If you take a notion to cross the ocean,
    We’re there with radio on sea and shore;
    For the sun can’t set on our short-wave net!
    That’s the boast of the Signal Corps!

    Stay safe in your “short-wave station.”
    Love, Cindy

  3. Bryce and Lola

    Glad very/ very glad you’re safe in Camp Victory, your blogs always bring joy to 5808. Liebe und prayers, G&G

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