John O'Brien - Sanctuary

“Okay, time for you to leave and find your seat,” I tell Robert who is sitting next to me.

“You’re going to try it eh?” He asks.

“Yeah, with try being the key word,” I answer.

He climbs out and joins the others. I see them talking briefly and then all attention is focused on me. They even walk around to the other side of the Humvee. Yeah, that’s trust , I think flipping the battery on and letting the gyros warm up. Going through the check list, I press the starter and the blades slowly start to revolve above me. What the fuck am I doing? I think watching the instruments and the blades pick up speed. I have no idea what the limitations are on the engine instruments other than the meaning of the white, green, and red markings. Red is bad, I know that. Green is good. White is some performance limitation. Of what performance limitation, I haven’t a clue. Not the best way to venture into a flight. Or anything for that matter.

I check my surroundings with the blades rotating in a blur overhead and am thankful that there aren’t other objects close by. It’s one of the reasons I chose this one in the first place. I reach down to the collective and grab the throttle. Rolling it, the rpm gauge increases with an increase in the noise, vibration, and speed of the rotor overhead. I feel the vibration of the helicopter through the seat and pedals. Well, actually, I feel it everywhere but it is more predominant there. I know I have to keep a constant rpm and think of the collective as a throttle and the cyclic stick in front of me as any normal stick. A combination of both acts similar to an aircraft but the idea is so foreign to me.

I gradually pull very lightly on the collective and feel the Kiowa go light on the skids with each skid tapping on the paved tarmac below me in intervals. The helicopter starts sliding to the left and I correct with the stick to the right. An over correction and I start off to the right. I eventually bring the slide to a stop with the skids still light on the ground. I now know why they call them skids. I pull a little more on the collective and the helicopter rises from the pavement. I remember one pilot saying to just imagine or think yourself hovering – that you just have to think about moving and the helicopter will respond to the subtle inputs your mind sends to your hands - or sliding in one direction. Well, I must have been thinking I wanted to be waaaay over to the right because that’s where I go.

I try to bring the slide under control and once again over correct and am now looking at the ramp slide underneath me as I slide to the left in the same manner. I lower the collective as I try to correct that stellar move and the helicopter slams onto the tarmac like a bag of garbage being thrown in a trash bin. Okay, that was fun , I think collecting my thoughts once again. I look over at the others and see McCafferty with her hand over her mouth obviously stifling a laugh. Gonzalez on the other hand, is doubled over at the front of the Humvee. It’s also pretty obvious the others are laughing as well. I’m glad they find this amusing , I think steeling myself for try number two.

My second attempt to not change the sky to ground is a repeat of the first but without the absolute shock of the helicopter being deposited on the ramp. The next several attempts also give Red Team an ab workout but I’m eventually able to keep the helicopter within the county and hover reasonably well. I thought fighters were touchy with the controls but this thing is like having an Xbox controller on the most extreme sensitivity setting. Wow! When things have the feeling of getting out of control, I just deposit it back on the tarmac and start over. Eventually, I am able to keep it close to being in one place and try a couple of pedal turns. Now, that’s pretty cool. I slowly get the feel of the controls, even venturing forward a few times, stopping, and easing the chopper to the ground. That doesn’t mean I won’t have to remove the seat cushion. If I didn’t actually suck it up internally, then I know there will at least be a little white ring on it.

I eventually shut the helicopter down and step out after the blades come to a stop. The others meander over.

“Damn, sir, you should at least apologize to the poor thing after abusing it like that,” Gonzalez says stepping close.

“Or at least buy it dinner first next time,” Henderson says close on her heels.

“Well aren’t you two just the comedic duo,” I say. “Anyone else have anything to say? Come on, get it out.”

“No, sir. You won’t hear me saying anything like it was like watching a blind bird trying to land in a tree. Nope, wouldn’t say anything like that,” McCafferty says.

I can tell Robert wants to join in on the “make fun of me” session but keeps quiet. We head back with Robert asking how it was.

“It’s touchy as hell,” I answer.

“Um, yeah, I could tell,” he says.

We pull into the lot where a lot more equipment and vehicles are parked off to the other side of the Humvees and transport trucks. Semi’s and large, truck-mounted cranes dominate the parking lot. The appearance of them shows that the teams have been mostly successful, if not fully, at finding the equipment on Bannerman’s list. That’s good news as we can begin fortifying our place tomorrow. I’m pleased but there’s still a place inside that is really missing Nic and wishes she were here to enjoy this moment with me.

The sun is lowering in the late afternoon sky as I step out of the Humvee. I feel tired but there’s a touch of excitement as well. It looks like we have the tools to begin this next phase of building a place of refuge; a place where we can feel safe. It’s hard to think that just a few days ago we were travelling from place to place trying to get back. The events of that trip have faded to a degree making it seem like they took place a long time ago. For the first time in a long time, even in the presence of grief, I feel a sense of contentment; content that we seem to be making a lot of headway. Not as far as where we are, we still have a long ways to go and don’t truly know what the future looks like, but in as far as where we are going. It remains to be seen if that contentment will increase or decrease with the degree and speed that the wall is built.

Lynn is still camped by the chair where she was when we left. The only difference is the amount of sheets lying on the side of the table covered with writing. She looks up as we approach.

“So, how’d it go, flyboy?” She asks.

“Is everyone going to be a comedian today?” I ask in return.

“Oh, that well huh?”

“Well, I didn’t kill anyone or damage anything if that means anything,” I reply.

“Other than his pride and possibly one very undeserving helicopter,” Gonzalez quips in behind me.

“It went fine. I’ll be back at it tomorrow,” I say ignoring the peanut gallery behind me. “How are things here?”

“Just fine. Most of the others pulled in a little while ago. We have one team still out looking for the portable generators,” Lynn answers.

“And you?” I ask.

“Doing pretty well. I have it mostly finished and will be ready to start soon,” she replies.

“Good,” I say and am about to say more when the sound of a vehicle nearing interrupts.

We all look to the long drive to see a Humvee crest the hill. As it pulls past, I notice it’s towing a wheeled generator. Things are definitely looking up. The confidence I feel in our group increases. We’ll be okay , I think watching the vehicle park. As long as our security measures hold up and we don’t make any mistakes . Yes, there will be difficulties as we venture into buildings for supplies. The long-term supplies, growing our own food and such, will be a learning process, but for the short-term, we should be okay.