“These are the times that try men’s souls.” The words of Thomas Paine are as true today as when they were written over two hundred years ago about the Revolutionary War. Events seem to be moving toward a crisis, both nationally and within our unit.

Being in a helicopter unit over the last month has not been easy. Several aircraft have been downed in theater. As a result, everyone gets a small case of the nerves. People react in different ways. Some become more hesitant to fly, planning even the smallest detail of an operation to perfection in the hopes that they can eliminate any and all risk. Others are more accepting of their potential fate. “If it happens, it happens” is their motto. Both groups are rather small, as most people fall in the middle. Everyone does what they can to minimize risk, but also know that there will always be some risk inherent to flying in a helicopter over Iraq.

It’s a little known secret outside of the army that any soldier can get out of almost anything. A complaint about a head cold or an aching back can result in one or two days of “recovery” time back at your room. Some people abuse this, and though we try and stop it, it is difficult to prove someone is malingering.

However, our pilots and crew members never take advantage of this. Each morning they still go to their aircraft, do their maintenance checks, load up passengers, and fly wherever the mission takes them.

It would be easy to act sick and send someone else in their place, but a unit is a family, and you would never put another family member in danger if you could avoid it.

While it is trying for one’s soul to make the decision to get in a helicopter each morning, there are other things that try everyone’s soul.

Now that we’re at the six month mark of a one year deployment, the little things are getting on everyone’s nerves. My personal hatred now is corn. If I could go a day without corn being put on my plate at the chow hall, I would probably die from the shock.

Other people, especially those who don’t fly, are beginning to get cabin fever. Imagine being confined to the UIUC campus for an entire year, and never being able to leave. Now imagine being confined to half the campus without a lot to do when you’re not working. You can only go out and run the same one mile strip of road so many times before you begin to question your own sanity. Seventy-seven times by my count, in fact.

The loss of helicopters hasn’t helped the stress level around here. Of course I can’t say what we do, but we’re always changing tactics to try to outthink the enemy. There are other effects as well.

Two of our crew chiefs almost got in a fight with some Marines when they were at a Marine base. They taunted the crew chiefs, saying the helicopters wouldn’t get shot down if they didn’t fly so low. The pilots restrained the chiefs but they didn’t let it go unchallenged. As the Blackhawks began to depart, the pilots (who will remain safely anonymous) sent a little extra rotor wash towards one of the Marine tents, blowing it over. I guess if you mess with the bull, sometimes you’ll get the horns.

There will be no rest for the weary though. With the surge and as units begin clearing areas and securing them, our unit will continue to go into action. The news reports all say we can’t and won’t win. Some of you probably think the same. I wouldn’t put any money on that though.

Two-hundred years ago, Thomas Paine wrote about a crisis that also didn’t look winnable. Luckily, in his day the army didn’t listen to the naysayers, and neither will we.