Greetings!

I started this site as a way for those of us who were stationed there to have our memories stirred-up about it, share stories and photos, and whatever else comes up (perhaps a reunion someday before we all die?).

The 15th Med has always held a dear place in my heart for many reasons. In fact, the older I get in life, the more I realize what a special and unique experience it was for me. I know there are others with fond memories of the 15th, too. I'd like to share mine with you:

I arrived at 15th Med having just turned 20 years old. (I looked like I was 16!). Up until my last year there, I was not only the youngest pilot (by 12 years) in the unit, I was the youngest person in the unit!

I had been lucky enough to sneak into the Army's "High School-to-Flight School" program about six months after graduation. Up to that point, I had held only odd and part-time jobs in my home town. So, Basic Training at Ft. Dix, followed immediately by WOC-D and flight school at Ft. Rucker were quite a shock for this naive, upper-middle-class white youth. I don't remember much about it, really, except it seemed like a year-long, very stressful, shock-laden blur. Even though I was constantly teased about my age and young looks (I hadn't even started shaving at that point), the camaraderie in flight school was something I had never experienced before. After almost a year of personnel and cubicle inspections, bracing and saluting whenever an officer was within site, checkrides, cleaning details, drill & ceremony, ground school, PT tests, etc., it was finally over. I remember taking 30 days leave after flight school, going home to Ohio, and just vegging in a lawn chair in my front yard for a month! I didn't do anything except de-stress!

I was amazed at how fortunate I was to get the assignment I was heading for. It was virtually everything I had wanted in my first tour as an Army Aviator. My dream had been to fly H60s and to fly Medevac. I had no desire to kill people or destroy things, so the Medevac mission really appealed to me, and the Blackhawk was so awesome I just HAD to fly one! I had studied German for four years in high school and spoke it fairly well, and having always wanted to go to Europe, Germany was the natural choice for me. These ideals were in my mind during the few moments during flight school when I actually had time to think about such things, but I figured I would end up flying Cobras out of Ft. Hood or something.

Back in 1984, my class, Maroon Flight, was only the second l class to ever get to pick our final aircraft based on our class standing. Only two Blackhawks were offered to our class, and I didn't get either of them. However, I did find out that I was going to be assigned to Germany, which made up for some of that disappointment. Imagine my joy a few weeks later when I received a welcome post card from 15th Med saying that I was assigned to them, that they were a Medevac unit, and that I could expect to return to Ft. Rucker sometime in the near future for my Blackhawk transition because the unit was trading in its Hueys for H60's! I was in heaven!

When I got to Germany, I was still under the impression that I was going to be treated at my unit basically the same way I had been treated in flight school. Well, I was in for some very pleasant surprises. My first came when I arrived at Rhein Main Airport expecting to have to take a train to Grafenwoehr. Instead, a Huey from 15th Med showed up just to take me back home! I think it was piloted by Tiny Despres and Bill Sorenson. I don't remember for sure because I was so dazzled by Germany, the hustle and bustle of Frankfurt Airport, and the fact that I was being chauffeured around Germany in a helicopter. Both pilots treated me like a welcome friend, and I began to realize that perhaps I wasn't going to have to be bracing all the time after all!

The flight across Germany was very enchanting. Everything was so....different! The quaint red-roofed homes, the majestic castles, the space needles. It was awesome and exciting to be so far away from home, in Europe, and on my own. And, I couldn't have asked for a better home-away-from-home than 15th Med. I can't imagine that there was any place better to be stationed as an Army Aviator. An Army unit with a real, lifesaving mission that took us all over Germany (and beyond), plus all the fun terrain flight training. Awesome!

Everyone was extremely friendly and welcoming, and quickly made me feel a part of the team. Even more surprising was the respect that my "subordinates" paid me even though I was younger than some of their children! My young age combined with the fact that I looked even younger than I was made me a bit insecure thinking about how I was going to fit in at my first unit. Discovering that the next youngest pilot was 32 years old did nothing to alleviate my initial discomfort. I can remember in-processing somewhere on main base in my CW1 BDU's. One of the sergeant-receptionists told me that I shouldn't wear my dad's uniform around base! (And he wasn't joking!) Yet, whether or not anyone had problems with my immaturity and naiveté, I never experienced anything but the respect due to my rank at 15th Med.

I quickly learned that 15th Med was more like an extended family of sorts than the cold, military unit that I expected. Within a day of my arrival, I was driven to a Hail and Farewell which was attended by everyone at the base--enlisted and officer alike. I really liked the atmosphere--the camaraderie and fellowship--the same atmosphere which characterized my entire tour at Graf.

I was quickly introduced to the challenges and rewards of flying Medevac in Germany. It was fun using my newly-learned skills to help others, and Germany turned out to be an incredibly beautiful country to fly in! Of course, that flying included all kinds of constantly-changing weather, and that could be very interesting, too! I was lucky fellow pilots were so experienced and kind enough to take me under their collective wings, so to speak. Graf was an ideal first tour for a fledgling aviator. In fact, I learned things in Graf that have dramatically influenced the way I fly still today.

And then there was living in Bavaria, near the Iron Curtain, during the cold war, with a very strong U.S. dollar. Everyone seemed to love us (at least, on our side of Deutschland), and I seemed to be able to live like a king on my WO1 pay. Getting stuck somewhere for weather or a mechanical problem usually turned into a very fun experience as the locals would invariably refuse to let us pay for drinks and sometimes even our dinner. They liked the fact that we were helping to keep the Soviets at bay, I guess.

And then there was all the neat personal things that happened to me during my tour of duty. I got married to Diana, bought my dream car, and took a two week vacation every six months to travel around Europe. I was able to see a dozen our so countries during my four-year stint and left Germany broke, but have never regretted it.

Looking back at my tour, I think the reason I'm so fond of it is that at Grafenwoehr, I transitioned from a boy into a man. When I finished flight school, I was still very naive about life, about the world, about the military, about most things. But, by the time I left Grafenwoehr, I had been given, and successfully handled, quite a bit of responsibility for someone my age. I had also traveled Europe, learned about loyalty and comradeship, was married, and had made lifelong friends. I returned to the States much older than my years, and found I no longer had anything in common with my recently college-graduated home-town buddies. They were still giggling over being able to drink beer, while I had flown Medevac missions within a few miles of the Iron Curtain at night in 500 ft ceilings and 1/2 mile visibility responsible for a $6 million machine and five lives. I had friends who were 10 years older than me and for whom I had great respect. I had seen Paris, Berlin, Madrid, Vienna, Casablanca, Copenhagen, Brussels, London. I had driven 170 mph on the autobahn. I had passed a checkride from Bill Sorenson. ;-) I had done it all and survived! I was a man!