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Dreakon139

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Depressing story inside:

 

Spoiler

 

Back when I was 19 years old and had first enlisted, my superiors stuck me on a detail called HST, short for Honors Support Team. Once a month for a week, the team I was on would be on called to support any military funerals for Navy members that happened around the North Florida area. It was supposed to be North Florida, but we'd get called away to places as far away as the Keys sometimes. So during that week, I'd have to put on my dress blues and act as a pallbearer and rifle team member. The guys you see at military funerals that fire a rifle salute while Taps plays? That was me. So I tell you that story to tell you this one:

 

There was a military funeral we had to support one time down in Tampa (? Ocala? Orlando? I can't remember), and the guy was all of 20 years old. The USS John C. Stennis was out at sea launching and recovering aircraft. I won't go into the finer details on the operation of a steam catapult, but the relevant part is that an E-2 Hawkeye was about to be launched. What happens is that the aircraft positions itself on the catapult, the ground crew puts chocks in the wheels to hold it in position, then they attach the aircraft nose landing gear to the catapult, remove the chocks, run clear out of the way, then they launch the aircraft into the air. During this whole time, the engines are running, and the E-2 Hawkeye using propellers. What's supposed to happen when they chock the aircraft is that the guy runs in at a 45 degree angle from behind the aircraft and behind the propeller, places the chocks on the wheels which are behind the prop, turns around precisely 180 degrees, and runs back out the same way he came back in.. That's what is supposed to happen. What actually happened is the kid ran in the normal route, placed the chocks, had a brain fart, and then ran straight ahead. Into the prop. I'm not sure what the standard RPM on an E-2 Hawkeye's prop is at 75% of full power, it might be hundreds, it might be thousands. The point is that there wasn't much left of the kid.

 

Enter me. When we handled the casket from the hearse onto the thing they use to lower a casket into a grave, I felt something shift which was what I presumed was a sandbag. There is no way that wasn't a symbolic burial. We did our duty and went home. Military funerals haven't affected much since I was present for my grandfather's funeral, but that one was a struggle to get through. 20 years old. 18 years later and I still think about that day sometimes.

 

 

Edited by damon8r351
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