Military Combat Flights

in 2004, when I got on the C-130 to go to Iraq from Kuwait, I was sick with what they call the "Kuwaiti crud." This is a bug that everyone gets when they first get in theater due to exposure to large amounts of dust, other peoples germs, and, as I like to say, depleted uranium in the soil (probably.) SO, that being said, My ears were clogged, my nose was clogged and I could barely breathe. I got on the plane, expexcting a somewhat normal flight, and instead was treated to an hour and 45 minutes of brutal assault on my senses in every possible way. Just like that. No warning, no leading up to it, just BAM!
Imagine, if you will, being in a flying, metal container (NOT a pressuized cabin of a jet) with 200 other people all encumbered with full body armor and kevlar helmets, packed in tight like sardines. Its about 125 degrees, you just ate an MRE, you have been traveling for 48 hours straight, and you are sick with what amounts to a bad cold. To top it off, you are already nervous because you are flying into an active war zone. You are about as relaxed as Joseph MCCarthy in Communist China. so far, the flight is going somewhat well, so you haven't vomited into your helmet or anything. Then, all of a sudden, the plane begins to lose altitude. RAPIDLY. Ever been on the "Tower of Doom" Ride at an amusement park? Yeah. Like that. Because you are brilliant, you surmise that the plane is about to land, but there is a small part of you that is wondering if all four engines just failed and the plane is plummeting to the ground. So, you look around. All the soldiers are sleeping. SLEEPING. You look at the civilian sitting directly across from you, who gives you somewhat of a reassuring glance. Then, the plane begins to lose altitude much more rapidly. Air begins to rush into your ears. Now, remember, you are sick, so your ears are filling up with air, but not releasing it. You try the plugging your nose and blowing technique, which doesn't work. You start to become slightly alarmed because you have now lost your hearing and your head feels like it's going to explode. You look at the civilian accross from you again, and he mouths "Blow hard.. it is going to hurt". So you do. It feels like someone just punched you in the ear from the inside. Then the plane lands. Welcome to Iraq!
Yeah. That really happened.
The flights now are not much better. You get into theater and immediately you are bussed to Ali Al Salem, or as I like to call it, Hell. You will probably be there for about a week in a tent with 9 or 10 other people. Trying to get on a flight is actually an even bigger pain in the ass then the flight itself, though I can not imagine why. Who the hell would EVER want to get on one of these flights? Crazy people, that's who! But for some reason, there is always a waiting list, so you end up sleeping in the PAX terminal until your name is called. This is actually preferable to sleeping in the tents. By day four, you are ready to get on a plane ANYWHERE, so long as it's not Ali Al Salem. Seriously, I will go to Afghanistan, I don't care. Then, you get on a plane, and have to deal with the above scenario. Welcome to Iraq!
The only positive flight I ever had in theater was on a Blackhawk helicopter. Honestly, if I could helo everywhere around Iraq, all the time, I would. It's a much smoother ride and it's a ton of fun and the pilot seems to know what he's doing. Plus, you then have "I have flown on a Blackhawk Helicopter" bragging rights, which is awesome.
Don't kid yourself, C-17's are not much better. There are more people and actual plane seats, sure. But there is no room between you and the other seats and when a plane that large loses altitude quickly it is far more frightening than a C-130.
I guess what I am trying to say is, working overseas has given me a new appreciation for aircraft. As someone who formerly loved to fly, I can say without a doubt now that there is no part of any flight that I enjoy. Unless I am in first class. But as far as experiences go, this is definitely a story that I enjoy telling over and over again, and it reinforces the statement that I am awesome. I guess, I have kind of my own 'war stories' that I get to tell my grandchildren. What an interesting thought.