No S**t. There I was…
That's how every good "war story" starts.
The 2005 Combat Control Association Reunion was held concurrent with the Veterans Day weekend. Combat Controllers are the Air Force’s top-shelf Special Operations Warrior. They deliver airpower -on-time-on-target. A gathering of them is colorful to say the least.
Casually walking around the group one listens to great tales of adventure, luck, and hedonistic nocturnal activity sprinkled with exaggeration and expletives. Often times, the exaggeration and expletive surpass the original events.
Stories abound from battlefields. Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia, Somalia, Iraq, Afghanistan, The Siege of Khe Sahn, The Miracle at Kham Duc, Tora Bora, bombs dropped, lives saved, magazines emptied, and body count.
Betimes the stories have nothing to do with war but training events and exercises or the vague recollections from the pubs and saloons of the world. Stories of bar brawls, jeep stealing, and black market barter. The main parachutes that didn’t open and the reserves that did. The men they detested and the women they loved. Wives are numbered…First, Second, Third…
Old grudges are reviewed again and (mostly) forgotten again.
And reverently, fallen comrades are fondly and freshly remembered…
We few, we happy few… we band of brothers…for he that sheds his blood this day with me shall be my brother…
Buffoonery?… Yes…sometimes. Decadence?… Often. Courage and patriotism? Always.
Yet sought they neither recompense nor praise,
Nor to be mentioned in another breath
than their blue coated comrades
whose great days it was their pride to share --
- ay, share even to the death! - Alan Seeger
The 2005 Combat Control Association Reunion was held concurrent with the Veterans Day weekend. Combat Controllers are the Air Force’s top-shelf Special Operations Warrior. They deliver airpower -on-time-on-target. A gathering of them is colorful to say the least.
Casually walking around the group one listens to great tales of adventure, luck, and hedonistic nocturnal activity sprinkled with exaggeration and expletives. Often times, the exaggeration and expletive surpass the original events.
Stories abound from battlefields. Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia, Somalia, Iraq, Afghanistan, The Siege of Khe Sahn, The Miracle at Kham Duc, Tora Bora, bombs dropped, lives saved, magazines emptied, and body count.
Betimes the stories have nothing to do with war but training events and exercises or the vague recollections from the pubs and saloons of the world. Stories of bar brawls, jeep stealing, and black market barter. The main parachutes that didn’t open and the reserves that did. The men they detested and the women they loved. Wives are numbered…First, Second, Third…
Old grudges are reviewed again and (mostly) forgotten again.
And reverently, fallen comrades are fondly and freshly remembered…
We few, we happy few… we band of brothers…for he that sheds his blood this day with me shall be my brother…
Buffoonery?… Yes…sometimes. Decadence?… Often. Courage and patriotism? Always.
Yet sought they neither recompense nor praise,
Nor to be mentioned in another breath
than their blue coated comrades
whose great days it was their pride to share --
- ay, share even to the death! - Alan Seeger
posted by ironcross11 | 8:52 PM
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