CHIEF WARRANT OFFICER 2 JASON MAIREL
C Company, 1-52 MEDEVAC
Fort Wainwright, Alaska
Many times in a deployed environment, things that were once high on the priority list are moved toward the bottom. This can be broken down to two simple reasons: time and threat. We hurry due to whatever the circumstances. Whether it is an urgent medevac, a time on target or passengers arriving early, we, as an aircrew, have all felt the squeeze of time. This brings to mind a couple of personal experiences that could have ended very differently. Both were near misses when considering the potential for catastrophic outcomes. Each demonstrates our clouded judgment and jumbled priorities when feeling pressures that are so common in our field.
As a young crew chief, I found myself based in Camp Udari, Kuwait, serving as VIP support for Third Army. We had a mission requiring three ships to pick up passengers at Camp Arifjan and shuttle them to several different locations throughout Kuwait. It was pretty routine stuff, considering we already supported similar missions for several months. Due to the high profile of this specific mission and the number of passengers we were transporting, we had two crew chiefs per airframe. In Chalk 1, it was me and another crew chief. Our platoon flight instructor (FI) and a readiness-level 2 crew chief were in Chalk 2, and two experienced crew chiefs were in Chalk 3.
We landed early at Arifjan for refueling and to hopefully grab some breakfast. Our FI volunteered to stay behind with the aircraft while we all got chow. This gave him time to get some valuable systems training done with the new guy.
As we were on our way back from the chow hall, we saw three SUVs pulling up to the aircraft. We all started running to the pads, throwing on our vests and blasting through checklists. It was just a matter of a few minutes until we were all lined up and making the call for takeoff. The entire sequence was not unfamiliar, but it was not the way we usually did business. We departed without issue as a flight of three and were operating normally.
After a couple of minutes, I announced I would be coming inside to start a fuel check. I quickly copied my numbers, started my clock and returned outside. About that time, Chalk 2 announced they would be sliding staggered right due to some towers on the left side of the route. As the aircraft came into sight, I announced I had them at about five rotor disks. Then I noticed something was wrong. It appeared as if the aircraft had two wings on top of it, flapping rapidly. This was clearly not normal! I realized it was the auxiliary power unit doors. Apparently, when they were going over the systems back at Arifjan, they failed to secure the doors on their way down from on top of the aircraft, most likely a result of the passengers arriving early. I announced what I saw and immediately the pilots contacted Chalks 2 and 3 to make a decision as to what would be done to resolve this.
We were just a couple of minutes from the embassy, and being over the city meant we would be hard pressed to find a place to land and shut down three UH-60s. We decided to press on. Upon arrival, the three aircraft quickly shut down, the passengers exited and the crew of the damaged aircraft climbed up to assess the situation. The door’s latches had punched holes in the No. 1 engine hover infrared suppression system, the beam supporting the center of the compartment was damaged and two rotor blades were badly gouged. Obviously, the doors themselves were destroyed.
Feeling the pressure of senior officers waiting on you as a young enlisted Soldier is stressful. But considering the stress and fear brought on by that situation, taking the extra 10 seconds to ensure we did things by the book would have been well worth it. The poor RL-2 crew chief clearly felt terrible about the situation. He learned from this mistake and moved on to become a very successful member of the team.
Another situation I remember happened as we were taxiing out for takeoff in a flight of four. I was sitting in the left seat, facing the runway, and noticed an aircraft about to take off with its driveshaft covers open. I told the pilots and they quickly relayed the information on the advisory frequency. Perhaps this situation was caused by the urgency of their mission or the fact there were several aircraft waiting for them to take off. I am not quite sure, but what I saw next blew my mind. A crewmember exited the aircraft on the number one side and reached over the moving driveshaft to secure the cover. We all gasped when we saw this. Fortunately for him it ended without incident, but the outcome could have been horrific if his flight uniform or gear had simply brushed against the driveshaft.
People have near misses and sometimes learn from the fear they felt once they realized what it was they were doing. Other times, unfortunately, it just reinforces that kind of behavior. This gives the person a sense of invincibility or superiority in their job.
A certain level of confidence and willingness to take risks is important in our profession. However, there are risks that make sense and risks that are stupid and should not be repeated. We have all taken unnecessary risks. Whether at work or home, the fact is it happens. The important takeaway from all of this is that we need to be able to recognize these decisions as what they are and correct the behavior before we end up learning the hard way. Or even worse, a young Soldier sees this behavior and adopts it as their own.
Don’t fall into the trap that claims the lives of too many Soldiers and family members both on and off duty. Take the time to follow the prescribed methods and procedures. They are most often written in blood and published to keep history from repeating.