Napalm in the Morning…

DEATH AT DAWN

Attack
Deathly foursome
High wing-overs
Leader visual, target visual
Single file, follow my wake
Target approaching, guts start to squeeze
Altimeters wind down too fast to perceive
Foreheads of sweat, silence shattered by warning cues
Pipper on target, not daring to breathe
Calm trigger fingers squeeze poised buttons
Nervous talons eager to release
Metal clad charges fall
Dusty, explosive blast
Total, beautiful
Destruction!

BACKGROUND: Most people know that I was once a pilot in the SA Airforce. I would even go out on a limb and say I was actually pretty good at it  - I think I still have the record for the best ever 68mm Rocket sortie in an Impala MK2 – shot a Coke Radial (that made sense to about 2 of you, I know… sorry!). What you may also know is that I didn’t grow up wanting to become a pilot – it’s just something I wanted to do at the time. What most of you would not know is why I think I was good…

Or why I stopped flying.

I was seriously aggressive growing up. At school there wasn’t a week that went by where I wasn’t involved in a fight of some kind. I didn’t fight fair – I kicked, bit, pulled hair, the works. I went flying in… Who and what I took on meant little. I’m not sure what caused the anger and I don’t think it matters anymore – I’ve become such a passivist now that I can’t even bear watching animals kill each other on a nature programme.

At the time, though, putting that much anger, aggression and will to win behind the controls of an aeroplane seemed to work well for my line of work. It just seriously shortened my life expectancy. I was pushing the limits more and more… flying lower and faster, pushing myself and the aeroplane strapped to me a little further every day.

One day, 15 years ago, I just walked away from it all knowing that I was about to leave my son fatherless if I didn’t. I am at peace with that decision and have never felt the urge to ever get behind the controls of an aeroplane again.

But there are memories that still appeal to that inner, primal aggression…

I will always love the smell of napalm in the morning.

~ by Norm on June 30, 2010.