How's the head Bryan?

The dog

Our unit veterinarian.

The shirt!

Bunk Snake

Could it be... yes, it is... the dreaded bunk snake of south west asia...

Attention to Orders! Congratulations, you've just been promoted by in true Bad Boy fashion ... or was that to prevent being cerimoniously promoted by...
...I let you tell the story

Present pics

I know it's tough to see, but this is the oldest LT in the Army in front of his company (I even zoomed in for old guys like Dean). The guy right over my left shoulder is Rich Kindred. Don't know how many of you knew Rich but he had been in the IRR for 8 years when they sent him a telegram and he was foolish enough to open it and answer the call. Just one hell of a great guy



The monster three children have grown into the three monster adults. The boy doesn't have the long hair now, he is at Army Basic Training. Elizabeth is leaving for flight school on 28 March. Megan is still in college at University of Kentucky.






Me with our XO in Samara. Some us still fly a manly aircraft

Bravo Company Bad Boys: First post on BBC

Bravo Company Bad Boys: First post on BBC

AA Butts

Thats a piss tube in the forground... not a missile... (its what you put your missile into.)

More photos

I'll let you guys speak to these, as you will. I'll keep posting pics occassionally as I find them scan and save them. :)

Photos from the past

Accusations addressed

I have randomly chosen a few of the posts to comment on. I hope each of you do similarly.

Yes, it is true, I am a one shot wonder.

Proof: Dennis and I were teamed together to fly an Apache from Hanua to Pisa, Italy. The bird had a vibration, a very bad vibration. Just before making the jump over the Alps into Italy, we stopped and refueled at a French air force base (old). The French were very nice bringing little sandwiches and water to each of us. Some of the boys we were flying with (3rd Bn I believe) asked what kind of little sandwiches are these. It was explained that they were pate', commonly make from ground up goose liver, I suddenly had all the little sandwiches I wanted. I experienced tenismus and asked where the facilities were. The French man kindly explained that the latrine (French for bathroom) was being renovated so I was to use the old one. Following directions I found a little building. Inside the building were two bricks with foot prints outlined on them. Within 6 feet there was a facet. Between the two bricks a small hole that water from the facet would eventually go down. The hole was roughly 3 inches in diameter. Being a highly trained attack helicopter pilot, I was adequately prepared for the task saturation that was about to ensue. You know the drill in a flight suit, do not, I repeat do not forget to hold the arms when in the squat position. Hold flight suit, arm facet, site target, fire-------- one shot wonder! I may have excitely conveyed my accomplishment to Dennis. End of Story except there is more!!!!!

Like every Bad Boy adventure, there is skill, ingenuity, audacity, and usually a near death experience involved.

Crossing the Alps without supplemental Oxygen and exceeding 16,000 feet I am sure Dennis and I were experiencing Hypoxia. As soon as the mountains were crossed the flight dove down from altitude. We followed, but the vibration become near catastrophic, so we slowed down. It was about that time, as I was looking around for a safe landing area, that I noticed there were no safe landing areas. It was the Alps, straight up and straight down. Calmly, I notified the PIC of my findings. He unable to maintain a calm demeanor actually raised his voice saying "I know you stupid Mother_ucker". Or at least that is how my oxygen deprived brain interpreted it.

We lived. But------

When my vision returned to near normal we were in the Italian Riviera. We were headed to Genoa to refuel. When it happened. As it happens, Dennis and I were last in a flight of 5 to 7 Apaches. We were flying pretty low, Ok we were over the ocean and yes we did have to increase our altitude slightly when crossing over yachts. As we crossed one particular yacht, I saw what can only be described as view of heaven. Looking down, I see three people, two woman and one man. All lying nude on the front of the yacht. One woman face up, one woman face down. I really can't remember how the man was. I only know that I waved, they waved, we connected! The PIC could not I repeat, could not be convinced to go around for another look. Even with the connection I made. I have never forgiven him for that.

Crushed in spirit, we continued on to Genoa. Now this was cool, at the airport they have a sea lane for seaplanes to land. It is parallel to the runway. Very cool. As we landed, suddenly there were all kinds of Italian cars and trucks coming out and surrounding our helicopters. Men with little machine guns poured out. Fortunately, they weren't there for me, rather there to protect us! That is what I am talking about. Heading this police/military group was an Italian women in a very short dark skirt. She spoke English. Naturally every effort was made to impress the short skirted Italian woman. She was even allowed to sit in the cockpit, front seat. Now as the highly trained apache pilot we significant experience in both the front and rear seat, I knew exactly the type of contortions needed to enter the cockpit. With that said, The PIC and I assumed a 2 o'clock position off the nose. Well, yes she was wearing a mini skirt and yes she did enter the cpg seat successfully.

The aircraft were successfully delivered to Pisa. That night there was a fest of some sort that Dennis and I were invited to attend. Ok, so was everyone else from the surrounding community including soldiers. But I felt special. As you all know, I didn't imbibe in spirits greatly then, (I am under doctors orders now, so I have to) but I did have some of the local brew. Foul tasting stuff that, I could barely drink three. That is when it happened. Like a scene from risky business, two beautiful dark haired Italian women entered the area. Naturally, Dennis and I ignored them but our animal magnetism drew them ever closer. Next, thing I know, they are interrupting a stimulating conversation where I am sure many of the worlds problems had been solved. In there broken highly accented English they began making small talk. Only Dennis, as a confirmed polygot, was able to understand the complexity of the situation. This was not only two beautiful Italian women, but Mother and Daughter. In a whirl of accented English and Italian we are invited to continue with the festivities with them, away from the fest site. When my brain comprehends what exactly is going on I slowly shift my gaze to Dennis. In a split second I see the pillar of the community, the salt of the earth, the man I love say



Thank you, but I have to put Dean to bed. He has a big trip tomorrow. See you ladies later.

I am tearing up right now just thinking about it!

Just another 24 hours of BAD BOY history. The Legend continues!

Thank you
Dennis

Pike finally understands that YOU are not the greatest Apache pilot in the world. That he was kidnapped and brainwashed by an evil red headed man. When he asks about his red hair, I say no, he isn't your father.

Ides of March

St Patrick's Day, Friday!

I am posting a great picture I received of the Martyns. What a lovely family! Check out the snow on the mountains in the backround. I wish I had a veiw from my backyard like that one.




From what I can tell, we are all living large! Things for me are good, as I hope for each of you. To use some cliche's

it is all gravy

walk in the park, walk in the dark (I do some of my best work in the dark)

slice of pie

peice of cake

muffi muscula--- no problem

no worrys