So I got accepted to West Point and left for Prep School at Fort Monmouth, New Jersey in the summer of 2004. Somehow I did not realize that I was showing up to Basic Training again. I came fully prepared to just walk into my dorm room with my things and begin Prep School, but that was not the case and I had to shift gears real quick. While I was there, I found out my unit was deploying again to Iraq and this really upset me. I already was not really enjoying my time there, and this news made me feel horrible; I felt like I was abandoning my unit. That was the hardest day I had experienced up to that point. I honestly just wanted to quit and go back to my unit. My friend, Abe, told me over a phone call in so many choice words that I was, indeed, not coming back. I’m glad he said that to me, and glad that I ultimately worked through those feelings and decided to stay.
Coming into Prep School at West Point, I think I definitely had an advantage over cadets who were there fresh out of high school. I knew where bad grades got me, and I wasn’t going to make that same mistake again. Even though I couldn’t shake this lingering feeling I had in the first semester that I was going to fail, I worked my butt off and graduated really high in my class. My experience at West Point felt easy to me all the time, and I think it’s because of the perspective and experience I had obtained from being in the Army already and being deployed. If any other cadet asks by the way, I will vehemently deny that I said it was easy.
On Branch Night my final year there, I already knew what I was going to get. My choice to join the aviation unit was made on that aforementioned ridiculously long drive out of Iraq into Kuwait. While we were sitting there waiting for CPT Dondero to find the key to his Blue Force, an Apache helicopter flew overhead and it was so close to the hood of my truck, what seemed like 10 feet up to me. The pilot then turned that helicopter straight up in the air and brought it right back over the truck even lower than he was the previous time. I was in utter amazement and told myself that that’s what I needed to do. I was going to become a pilot, but not just a pilot, an Apache Pilot, because that dude had a gun and I thought that was awesome.
After receiving my slot in aviation, I ended up having somewhat of an existential crisis. All of my friends, the people I knew and loved and respected at the Academy, they all went into infantry. I felt something akin to buyer’s remorse; had I chosen the right path? I wrestled with that for about the last six months or so that I was there and it was a pretty difficult time.
Having said all that, I can now confidently say that I absolutely made the best choice for myself going into aviation. I’ve never met someone who’s an Aviator and is like, “Man, I wish I’d been walking this whole time!” The reverse does happen though. You’d think more people would learn that they don’t like walking around in the woods, but apparently not.
While I was still at West Point, during my Cow (3rd) year in 2007, I met my wife, Lindsey at an Army-Navy football game. My friend, Daren Hidalgo, also attended the Academy and his parents used to throw this big hotel party for the Army-Navy game each year. He comes from a family with many service members including his dad, his two brothers, and one of his brother’s wives. Anyway, one of Daren’s best friends in high school was Lindsey’s college roommate and they came to the game together. That’s one of two good things that came out of the five Army-Navy games I went to as a cadet- meeting Lindsey. The other one was watching the Navy mascot get speared by a rugby player in the end zone. That may sound bad, but he deserved it. Army had been getting our butts kicked for too many years in a row, and the mascot came over and was waving the Navy flag right in front of our faces, bragging and boasting. This guy just came from behind him and annihilated him, took his legs out ninety degrees and just smoked him. It was so great to see that. The offender got a coin from the Army Chief of Staff, and then a brigade board (he had to walk 100 hours).
