The Storm

'Thank you' and the com went silent. Flyin' at low altitude over the shadowy, jungle-tree canopy with the vibration of the Huey and the blades whippin' the air created a surreal atmosphere to the whole flight. But this was real, and we were gettin' deeper into unknown territory." "We'd flown for hours, and all lights from the ground had disappeared a long time ago. Only an occasional twinkle would flicker on and off, like small stars in a dark universe. I assumed the twinklin' was caused by a dense canopy of trees obscurin' the light, causin' a flickerin' effect through the leaves and branches as we flew by high overhead. Lookin' down, it seemed as though we were in an eternal darkness, with only a few red operational night lights illuminatin' the inside of the chopper. In the dim, red light I could see the stoic looks on the faces of my men. There was no conversation, only the drone of the chopper blades beatin' the air." "'ONE HOUR TO DROP ZONE!' The pilot's voice cracked through our headsets and shook us out of our quiet dream state. The men shuffled in their seats and adjusted their harnesses, almost in unison. 'Get ready for our drop, men, and double-check your gear.'" Henry continued, "'Don’t leave anything behind. That could hinder our mission,' I spoke briefly through my mic. 'YES SIR,' came the response, and we geared up our minds to do a high-level rope slide onto, what I assumed, was the jungle floor. 'THIRTY MINUTES, MEN,' the voice once again crackled into our ears. At that time, as I moved towards the chopper door, I instructed the lead men to ready the ropes for our drop. '10 MINUTES GUYS,' was the next alert, and we all readied

1 31