"Walking Away From The Ledge” The Cut List: Vol. 22. These are the stories that didn’t make the cut to the final edit in my book. Some of these stories will jump around, but I’ll do my best not to leave you, the reader, guessing when and where they happened.
Congratulations, you made it to the end! 22 Volumes of stories that didn’t make it into the book but are entertaining enough to stand on their own. I hope you enjoyed them, and yet again, to connect all the dots, you’ll have to check out the book!
We finally boarded the aircraft, departing from Kuwait two hours later, but then there was another delay. I can’t remember what it was for, but we were on that aircraft for another two hours before it took off. I’m glad it wasn’t as hot and humid as Thailand, but still, I hate starting a plane ride with that “not so fresh” feeling all over. I never understood why anyone traveling to and from deployments left their boots and jackets on for the duration of the trip. Some guys would even shave during the short layovers we would have. Hell nah man, I’m trying to be comfortable and best believe I’m arriving with a five o’clock shadow.
My boots were off, jacket rolled and tucked behind my back for lumbar support, and I was knee deep in whatever movies they had to offer. I recall my first deployment, which was 17 years prior. We were at the mercy of whatever movies they were playing on the screen, which everyone had to look at. Now I have my own screen in the back of the seat. Thank God for civilian flights. I’d hate to make that trip on a military aircraft.
After departing we’re informed about having to stop in Budapest, or Bucharest, or both, for all I remember. We made numerous stops to pick up extra soldiers along the way, which was insane. Usually, it’s Kuwait, Germany, or Ireland, home, done. Since they had a mechanical issue with the aircraft, they were pushing it back until it was in the states; that issue had to be checked at every stop, too.
A few more hours, on the way to Germany. Disembark, refuel, reembark, delay for maintenance, on the way home. All these delays are adding up, and we’ve been on this plane for over 12 hours now. Don’t care, we’re headed home. I try to sleep for a bit, but I can’t muster more than a nap, and then I watch another movie. I see the in-flight screen and watch as we near the US. Have we been on this plane for about 18 hours now? Crazy.
I try to get a nap again, but can’t sleep. How long have I been up? Will we have roommates in quarantine? Where will they put us? My mind is wandering everywhere and about everything. “Folks, we apologize for yet another delay, but we are diverting to JFK so they can fix this mechanical issue. They’re aware of the issue on the ground, they have the part, it shouldn’t take long, and we’ll back up and have you all home, thanks.”
It’s been three hours on the tarmac at JFK. We’ve been on that bird for 22 to 23 hours now, and everyone is sick of it, especially the smokers. Reluctantly, the crew has agreed to let us off the aircraft to walk around a bit but due to our circumstances of having weapons and potentially be transporting that precious fucking COVID, we were only allowed to venture out as far as 50 feet of the plane.
Whatever. Smokers got to smoke, the rest of us got some fresh air and to stretch our legs, and the airline was gracious enough to order New York-style pizza for everyone on the plane. We all had our two large slices, and it was a welcome relief from the plane food and snacks we had all already devoured. We landed at Fort Drum after 25 total hours on that aircraft, and were promptly whisked away to a barracks to be quarantined for the next 12 days.
Want to know more about some of these situations? You’ll have to get the book “Walking Away From The Ledge" for more details (links below)! If this story hit home—or reminded you of your own service—drop a comment below or share it with someone who might need it.
https://books.by/w-brand-publishing/walking-away-from-the-ledge
