Wednesday night at 6:14 a C-17 doing a practice flight for the air show this weekend went down; the 4-man crew died. There was no way for them to get out...C-17s are cargo planes...cavernous, windowless planes so huge it seems impossible they are even able to fly.
The pilot was practising a "touch and go" maneuver, and on the take off, banked too hard and ended up flipping the plane.
Brandon is on the Search and Recovery team.
He's out there looking for the remains of these four airmen as I type this.
I can't even begin to imagine what he's going through...what he will go through these next few days. I'm sure he'll see things that'll haunt his dreams for who knows how long. I'm so proud of him for being so willing to do what is asked of him...not once has he complained about being chosen for this duty. Not even after working from 0500-1900 yesterday with a two hour break in the middle.
It'll be another long day for him today...he was driving the first body to the hospital when I last heard from him.
I'm trying to make our home the calm in his stormy days...keeping things picked up, entertaining the kids so he can relax when he is here...but I just feel so very helpless. I feel like I should be doing more. I want to be out there with him, holding his hand, helping him get through this, and it hurts that I can't.
I'm so proud of my husband, proud of his sacrifice, his courage, his strength, his willingness to do what he can for the families of the airmen who lost their lives so unexpectedly.