THANKS FOR THE HELP
“You the one they call Jaf?” asked Sergeant First Class Williams standing on steel beach looking at the soldier’s back.
“I’m him,” replied Joe from atop the engine work platform. He spoke without turning around, concentrating on the engine oil filter he was replacing on the Lycoming turbine engine.
“They told me you were the guy to talk to. Were you on a flight last week, Monday, out to the eastern province?” the tall, dark haired soldier asked.
“Maybe, why?”
“I’d like to talk to you for few minutes if you were.”
“Look, I didn’t find any gear and if I had I would’ve turned it into the TOC immediately after the flight,” Joe said somewhat exasperated.
“Sergeant Foxx, My name is Sergeant First Class Williams and I’d like you to come down here so I can talk to you for a moment please,” the senior NCO said sternly.
The tone of his visitor’s voice told Jaf not to press it. He stopped work on the filter and hopped down to steel beach, his desert tan flight suit tied around his waist in a feeble attempt to keep cool in the 104º degree weather. “Shoot.”
“This isn’t about any lost gear sergeant, were you flying up the valley just east of Ghazni last Monday, early morning?” he asked again.
Jaf thought about it and remembered that he had flown Monday in that area. It seemed a pretty routine flight, two CH47s and one AH64 out to an FOB to drop off supplies and pick up PAX (passengers and equipment).
“Yeah, I think so. Not sure exactly which flight you’re asking about, but sounds like I was on it.”
“You recall seeing a convoy stopped on the side of the road heading up the valley?” SFC Williams asked.
Now Jaf was sure of it. He had seen the convoy and notified his pilots, stating that he thought it was halted, maybe having trouble. The pilot-in-command called back to the AH64 Apache attack helicopter flying trail and asked him to fly by and check it out. Jaf watched as the soldiers on the ground waved at the Apache while it swooped over their location. “Sir, I think I’ll send a text message back to the rear, they might be having a maintenance problem. You got a grid for me?” Jaf asked his pilot.
Shortly after sending the text message, the Apache linked back up with the flight and they proceeded on with their mission making a note to check the spot on their return leg.
“Yeah, that was me. What’s up?” Jaf asked.
“Well, I’d like to shake your hand, you saved our ass Jaf,” Williams announced holding out his hand.
Jaf took it with a puzzled look on his face. SFC Williams went on to explain that one of their vehicles had a flat tire so they stopped to change it. He placed a security detail in a hasty defensive perimeter to make sure nothing funny happened while the tire was being changed. Sure enough, a squad of enemy fighters was spotted coming down the hilltop to their south maneuvering a .50 caliber machine gun into position to engage the stranded convoy. They were sitting ducks without anything large enough to return effective fire.
“Them sombitches took off running up and over that hill after your Apache came screaming by,” he proclaimed almost laughing. “We were hoping you had seen them, but were just glad to have them high tail it out of there so we could get back on the road.”
Jaf was surprised but glad they were able to unknowingly help out.
“That’s not all,” SFC Williams continued. He went on about how after almost thirty-minutes, the enemy fighters returned, again setting up their large caliber machine gun while his guys frantically worked to change the cumbersome tire on the large two and a half ton truck.
“Sure as shit, just as they got into place, here you came again back down the valley and they scrambled the hell out of there, leaving the gun this time. We finished up and got out of there ourselves. We owe you a big thanks for saving our hides Jaf,” Williams offered with a tone of sincerity in his voice.
“Hey, I’m glad we helped but damn sure wish we would’ve known about them, our 64 could’ve taken them out for good,” Jaf said.
“No sweat man, I think we got them a couple a days later. Well, thanks again,” Williams said before he turned and walked down steel beach.
Jaf climbed back up onto the work platform to tackle the oil filter on the Lycoming turbine engine. Sgt Hook out.
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This post is filed under: Reconstructed & The Soldier
