We Bring 'em Home When We Can

Intent. Funny thing. I had intended on only one post tonight. The one following this. But then I came across an article in my newspaper, one that kind of hit home on a weird note, and then there were two. As in posts.

Today's article is on how the Navy aims to recover the remains of some P-2V Neptune crew members, who died in a crash on January 12, 1962, while hunting Russian submarines during the Cold War. They crashed on a glacier in Greenland. It was a routine reconnaissance flight out of naval station in Keflavik, Iceland. They searched for eight days and found nothing, but in August of 1966, four British geologists hiking on Greenland's Kronberg Glacier discovered the wreckage and remains of the crew. By the time the Navy team arrived, it had snowed and they were only able to recover seven of the 11 crew members. They were buried with full military honors.

This month, a 16 member recovery team is going back to bring the rest of our men home.

You may be asking yourself why this has such a grip on me. It does; I assure you. I get choked when I realize we may be bringing them home. It's because The Great Omnipotent One flew P-2Vs in his first tour in Viet Nam. In Viet Nam, it was used extensively, his squadron flying out of Saigon. When the fleet transitioned over to the now P-3A Orion, they were no longer allowed to fly in country as it was vulnerable to ground fire. The P-3 is akin to an airliner that has Anti-Submarine Warfare (ASW) capabilities. The P-2V had a sealed fuel tank, so if one were to take a hit, it was not with the same disastrous consequences. By TGOO's second deployment, they had gone to P-3A's, flying their missions out of NAS Cubi Point, Philippines. (Modern version is P-3C.)

Planes crash. It happens. You grow up as a pilot's kid knowing these things happen. You don't spend your time gripped in fear, but you are aware. In the aviation community, every family is effected in some way by an air fatality. It is a fact. It leaves a sickening empty feeling in your stomach to think about... Forever.

Bringing home our men from this crash, this is closure for the families. Yes, they knew their fathers/brothers/uncles/sons had died. There was no doubt. But if it were my Dad, I would want his remains at home. And tonight, I am taking great comfort in knowing that we don't leave our men and women who have sacrificed their lives for our country... no matter how long it takes.