My adventures in becoming an Army Helicopter Pilot

I've been told, that I need to write down some of my experiences, because they need to be published. I find that a bit of a stretch, but I'll try & do it anyway.

Most of my "interesting tales" have to do with my experiences as a helicopter pilot in the United States Army. I guess the first of such tales should be how I became a helicopter pilot in the first place. I was a sergeant in Alpha Battery, 1st Battalion of the 37th Field Artillery,  172nd Light Infantry Brigade (Arctic), stationed at Fort Richardson, Alaska. The year was 1986. I'd always wished I could be a pilot as long as I could remember, & had been especially interested since 1984 when my older brother Richard had tried to become a helicopter pilot. (In a sense, he blazed the trail for me, but that is later) I was reading a post newsletter & read an article that reported that the Army was accepting applications for the Initial Entry Rotary Wing Aviator Course (IERWAC) "Helicopter Flight School" in English, & that I had one window of opportunity to apply before I would be too old to go to the school. This was a rhetorical comment since my wife Anna had stated years earlier that she'd never be married to a pilot. To my astonishment, she told me to apply for the school. She said (Accurately) that if she stopped me from trying, that this issue would forever be between us. So she said, increase your life insurance & apply for flight school.

After taking the Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery (ASVAB) a 4th time, taking & passing the Flight Aptitude Selection Test (FAST) & the most grueling physical I've ever had, I submitted my packet to the Department of the Army (DA), then I waited. The waiting seemed to go on forever, but eventually, I was informed that I was selected for training, & was given orders to report for Duty in April 1987 to Fort Rucker, Alabama. Between my acceptance & my departure from Alaska, I was notified that my flight physical has some irregularities & needed to be repeated. This was done with a little trepidation, but no big deal, since I'd already done it once. The physical is a big deal becoming an aviator, as failing the physical is the way most people who are otherwise qualified are booted from the program. In preparation for my reporting for duty as a Warrant Officer Candidate, I started an increased physical training regime with the Scouts in my new unit (I had been transferred from the Artillery to the 5th Battalion, 327th Infantry Regiment during the application process). The Infantry Scouts are the most elite of the infantry in Alaska, & their physical training routine was very intense. They allowed me to train with them & by the time I left Alaska I was in the best shape of my life. Little did I know how much I'd need it.

Arriving in Alabama in April after leaving Alaska in March is traumatic. My last day in Alaska was -20 degrees (that was the High) my arrival in Alabama it was 70 (That was the Low). The change in climate was grueling. I had to pass a Physical Training test (PT Test) within 30 days of arrival. Acclimatization to the southern Alabama climate was a bear. I passed the test the 29th day, at age 29 at sic O'clock in the morning. My next challenge was the Warrant Officer Entry Course (WOEC). WOEC was the 1st six weeks of the 9 months I was going to spend in flight school training. I'd already spent an additional two weeks as a "Snowbird" awaiting an active training class. (Students are assigned to the snowbird platoon as a holding assignment until there is space in an active training platoon. Classes start every two weeks & there can be up to 250 people assigned as snowbirds.) One lesson I learned quickly was that any time on hold was in addition to the nine month total for the training course. More on that later.

There were three platoons in rotation (Red, White & Blue) in the entry course. My training platoon was the Blue Platoon. I'll discuss details of WOEC later, but I managed to graduate WOEC without any major problems one way or another. Oh yes, did I mention that once you got to Ft. Rucker, you got another Class 1 flight Physical? Seems the flight school staff doesn't trust physicals done at other locations, even though they were reviewed by the medical staff at Ft. Rucker. This 3rd flight physical nearly ended my flying career.

I reported to Bravo Company (the flight training company) after finishing my WOEC at Alpha Company. I was now part of the Rainbow platoon. (Rainbow is the same status in B Co. that Snowbird was in A Co. Waiting to start training) The first thing that I learnt upon my arrival in B Co. was that I'd been placed on Medical Hold. I was told this was no big deal (about 10% of students get at least 1 medical hold) & they are usually resolved in a week or two. The biggest disappointment of this hold, was that most of my friends I'd made in WOEC were now starting training ahead of me.

Medical hold ended up being a nine-month endeavor of its own for me. I had been flagged due to my blood & urine chemistry being abnormal. Specifically, high blood & urine calcium. four months of testing, & three trips to Eisenhower Army Medical Center in Ft Gordon, GA. Finally resulted in a diagnosis of 1st Degree Hyperparathyroidism (isn't that a mouthful). This determination was made after 90 blood tests, A nuclear scan (Inconclusive) & evaluation by the Endocrinologist. What was the treatment? Exploratory surgery of my neck! Needless to say, I wasn't excited by this prospect. My throat was basically going to be cut from ear to ear, then opened up to expose the Thyroid Gland. On the back side, at each corner, is a pea sized parathyroid gland. The surgeon would look for a tumorous gland, & remove it.

I spent Friday night (after being admitted as an inpatient) & the entire weekend trying to research the condition I'd been diagnosed with to help me make my decision to have the surgery. I'd already upset my intern (Dr. Tuttle) when he was telling me the surgery & it's risks when I'd mentioned that if I was still in the hospital on Tuesday morning, they could do the surgery. As luck would have it, cable TV came to my rescue. The Learning Channel had a program called Surgery Update & of all things that week, the topic was Hyperparathyroidism. It seemed unbelievable, but it is the truth. The show told me all I'd been trying to learn in vain (my access to information was quite limited in the hospital & there was no Internet in 1987. My condition was normally found in Women over 50, rarely seen in Men, almost never seen under 30. Only one treatment, SURGERY. Now all I had to deal with was possible complications. Just little things, a 10% chance of losing my voice, a 50% chance of a major change in my voice & of course the ever present I might die in surgery.

It is hard to describe the terror I felt those four days. I’d had surgeries before and the process of going through a surgery wasn’t the issue. This was the first time that I didn’t have a cut and dried prognosis of a remedy to my need for surgery. Hernia repair, that is pretty clear. Having a small tumor removed from the bicep, again, pretty clear. The was no assurance with this surgery on either what they would find nor if the procedure itself would cause me other problems. My army career also depended on the results of this surgery. (More than I knew at the time, but that is addressed a bit later.) But I was laying there, away from my wife and family. This was before the Internet and cell phones and easy long-distance communication. I was isolated and feeling very alone sitting in a four-man ward on the 11th floor. I both dreaded Tuesday’s arrival but also welcomed the end of the waiting.

Surgery went well, voice intact & blood chemistry normal. I then had 90 days of postoperative testing to confirm I have been cured, then, since I'd never finished my third flight physical, it was time for a fourth. After passing the fourth flight physical, I was finally given the cherished "UP SLIP" officially known as a medical clearance to fly. Armed with this, I was assigned to Royal Blue Flight, & began my flight training.

Three and a half weeks later, I received a message to visit the Consult Clerk at the hospital. This was a fairly routine event as I'd visited the clerk (Mrs. Barnett) about once a week for 9 months to pick up test results for Ft. Gordon to be placed in my medical file. This visit was different. As I entered her office, her normally bright smile disappeared as soon as she saw me enter. I looked at her and said: "I've been medically DQ'd haven't I?" She told me that I had & went on to explain that I should have never been given flight clearance at all, since the tumor I'd had was clearly a disqualifying condition. She showed me the regulation, just one sentence. "Any history of an Endocrine condition" is class 1 disqualifying. The rest of the conversation was friendly but a bit muted, & as I turned to leave she made the comment: "it's just too bad that you haven't flown yet." I halted in the doorway hearing her comment, smartly performed an "About-Face" drill movement, & smiled like a Cheshire Cat. She saw me grinning from ear to ear behind my aviator sunglasses, and she asked if I'd flown yet. I replied that I had twelve hours of flight time & was nearly knocked to the floor as she ran from her office her skirt flying in the breeze as she ran down the hall. Two minutes later, she walked back in the office smiling & told me: "Never mind, your waiver will come to you in the mail." As it turns out, once you fly, you don't have to meet Class 1 flight standards, but Class 2. In class 2, my condition could be waived. So with my waiver in hand, flight training continued.