By Ron Young, Eagle Scout and U.S. Army Reservist
On March 23, 2003, my helicopter was shot down. I was a 26-year old combat rookie, just two days into Operation Iraqi Freedom. I was with a group of 18 American helicopters flying north when red tracers from Iraqi anti-aircraft installations began streaking into the sky.
It was sporadic at first, but then everything changed. All of a sudden, we hit a wall of lead and it didn’t let up for 25 solid minutes. A bullet finally punched into the fuselage, and the Apache lost its weapon system.
I continued to guide Dave Williams, the pilot, through the maze of tracers, as best as I could. But the bullets were getting closer and closer. All of a sudden, the aircraft shook, shuddered, yawed to the left, and leaned back. I yelled at Dave not to slow down, and he screamed back that we’d lost an engine. That’s when I knew we were going down.
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