CHIEF WARRANT OFFICER 2 ALAN MARTIN
Company B, 777th Aviation Support Battalion
Wheeler Army Airfield
Wahiawa, Hawaii

Professional courtesy is an integral part of the military system. In the cockpit, however, excessive professional courtesy can be fatal.

It was a typical day in Hawaii when I arrived about 1430 to prepare for my night vision goggle flight later that night. The sun was gleaming through the clouds just to the west of the airfield. As I walked into our facility, I looked at the condition of the weather in the tactical flight training area to the east. It was completely normal that afternoon and showers started to roll in over the mountains. After receiving my initial weather brief, it was forecasted to be a visual flight rules night with no illumination.

I walked out to our aircraft and started to preflight. Just as I finished, I looked up into the TFTA and saw the cloud layer had come down a few hundred feet over the past few hours — but not to the point I needed to cancel the flight. Before climbing into the cockpit, I called for a weather update. It came back at 1000/3, which is the minimum to enter the TFTA under NVG. So, I climbed in and said we were good to go.

After running the aircraft up, we began our taxi to the hover area and I watched another aircraft enter the TFTA. We performed our hover checks and prepared for takeoff, and I decided to perform a few traffic patterns prior departing for the TFTA. Feeling ready after our basic traffic patterns, we departed the airfield and executed a standard takeoff and entry into the TFTA.

After completion of the terrain flight route, we went directly to our landing zone, which was in the northeast sector of the TFTA, close to the ridgeline. The closer we got to our LZ, I saw the rain getting heavier and the clouds creeping lower and lower. After landing and doing a traffic pattern with a 10,000-pound block, I set up for approach back into the LZ. The clouds were dumping rain on us now and our visibility was decreasing quickly.

I was the young, inexperienced pilot with a senior pilot in command who had thousands of combat hours. Fresh out of progression, I was reluctant to voice my concerns that I was uncomfortable flying in those conditions. I had to put away my pride and make the announcement. The crew acknowledged my concerns and we decided to pick up the slings and head home.

As the slings were recovered, it started raining harder. The crew chief came back up on the ICS and said we were good to go. We took off out of the LZ and the clouds had pushed down the mountain and almost covered the TFTA. We departed the training area and started heading back to the airfield. As I looked back at the TFTA, it looked completely socked in. Had we not made the decision to depart when we did, we would have been stranded in the LZ or gone inadvertent instrument meteorological conditions.

Being the young PI with a senior CW3 and an experienced crew with multiple deployments, I had to overcome the pressure and thought they would know what’s best and make the right call. Anyone, however, has the right and ability — regardless of rank and experience — to make the call others may be hesitant to make. Pride has no place in the decisions that may save your life.