NAME WITHHELD
If you have been in the Army Aviation branch for more than a day, you’ve probably heard, “Those who have and those who will.” Here’s my story.
It was a day like no other for my crew and me. Why? I was the Army's newest member in the pilot in command (PC) club. It was January at Shindand, Afghanistan, and I was eager to shake off my new PC butterflies.
The mission was a standard air mission request to local pick-up zones in support of Regional Command-West, something I had been doing for five months and, as a pilot, was very comfortable with. But things were different now. I was the guy who called the shots and was ultimately responsible for the new CH-47F and the lives of my crew and passengers.
At 0530, we confirmed our air mission request and received an S-2 threat brief update and weather briefing. Everything, even the weather, looked good. But if you have ever flown in the mountains of Afghanistan, you know the weather is very unpredictable and can change at a frantic pace during that time of year. By 0840, the blades were turning, and at 0859, we called the tower to request takeoff.
Our first leg of the mission called for us to head north to Herat, just 59 miles away, with small mountains rising “only” 6,000 feet above mean sea level (MSL). Remember when I said the weather report was good? The Air Force guys try hard with what they have, but it's more like rolling the dice than a science. At least the guys went outside to take a look instead of just sitting at their computers.
Shindand elevation was 3,850 feet MSL, with the first set of mountains only 12 miles to the north at 5,000 feet MSL. We received clearance for takeoff and were on our way. The weather looked good and ceilings were as reported. After arriving at Herat, we saw the next mountain pass was socked in and knew our day was done.
I called operations and received clearance to cancel the rest of our mission, then contacted the weather office back at Shindand to ask about the current conditions there. They reported the weather was good. We headed back and, as we flew over the last mountain pass 12 miles north of Shindand, it happened. It was snowing!
Panic set in immediately. I then remembered something very important from flight school. "The urgency of certain emergencies requires the immediate and instinctive action by the pilot. The most important single consideration is helicopter control. All other procedures are subordinate to this requirement."
Until you are in a situation like this, you will never be a true believer of that phrase. Luckily, the other pilot and I announced visual contact with the ground and used exceptional crew coordination. During this, my sister ship called to let me know they lost their UHF and VHF radios. That meant if I decided to do a GPS approach, I would have to make their radio calls as well as my own for spacing during inadvertent instrument meteorological conditions (IIMC). That wasn’t something we really trained for. Murphy's law was in full effect!
Taking the radio problem into consideration, as well as the fact that I still had visual contact with the ground, I decided to push on. But now we were 200 feet AGL at 60 knots airspeed with less than one-quarter-mile visibility, only 4 miles north of the forward operating base. I knew the terrain here and had my multifunctional display on terrain avoidance. I had flown in the same area the previous day and knew it was clear of hills and antennas. I called the tower and let them know where we were and gave a pilot report with a request for special visual flight rule entry.
The snow thinned when we were about 2 miles out, and I saw the maintenance facility and, finally, the runway. This made me think of another famous quote: "It's better to be on the ground wishing you were flying than flying wishing you were on the ground." Truer words have never been spoken. I still can't say I have experienced IIMC, but we were close. Looking back, I should have just done the GPS approach even if I had to pick up my Chalk 2 radio calls.
I thank my crew for excellent crew coordination and my co-pilot for picking up the workload for overall mission success. Even though you can't train for every curveball Mother Nature throws at you, you can — and hopefully will — revert back to your training in high-stress situations and make the right call.