By An Irritated Kevin R.C. "Hognose" O'Brien
When Tom MacRae of Peoria, Arizona
sat down to write a letter to the editor about some jets that had
annoyed him, he put his sarcasm into afterburner. Here's MacRae's
letter to the Arizona Republic, in toto:
Question of the day for Luke Air Force Base: Whom do we thank
for the morning air show? Last Wednesday, at precisely 9:11 a.m., a
tight formation of four F-16 jets made a low pass over Arrowhead
Mall, continuing west over Bell Road at approximately 500 feet.
Imagine our good fortune! Do the Tom Cruise-wannabes feel we need
this wake-up call, or were they trying to impress the cashiers at
Mervyns' early-bird special? Any response would be appreciated.
MacRae's essential error, so common today, is assuming that it's
all about him. The reporters of the Republic demanded an answer
from the powers that be at Luke Air Force Base, on behalf of Mr
MacRae. Luke, in the person of 56th Fighter Wing commander Col.
Robin Rand, responded:
The "wake-up call" witnessed the morning of June 15 was a
formation of F-16 jets from Luke Air Force Base lining up for a
memorial service in Sun City at the gravesite for Air Force Capt.
Jeremy Fresques (below), an officer assigned to Air Force Special
Operations. Fresques gave his life in defense of our country while
serving in Iraq.
Ouch. Rand wasn't quite finished, though:
It is unfortunate that at a time when our nation is at war
someone would believe we have less than honorable and professional
reasons for such a mission.
Owie. The squadron CO, Rand mentioned, had the difficult duty of
informing Fresques's parents of their son's death -- on Memorial
Day. Col. Rand didn't mention (at least in the edited letter
printed in the paper) that officer's name (but it is Lt. Col. Scott
Pleus) or that he knew Fresques well. Fresques had been a member of
the wing's 56th Communications Squadron before being accepted to
Combat Control school,.
To its credit, the Republic printed Colonel Rand's response. It
also printed a letter to the editor from Michael Budrock of
Glendale, who remembered seeing F-16s on the afternoon of 9/11, and
hearing a neighbor call them "beautiful." Budrock added: "Yes. They
were then. They are now." The Republic's copy desk caught his
meaning perfectly in their headline: "Be Grateful Those Jets Are Up
There."
A few days later the Republic received, and printed, a letter
from Lt. Col. Pleus, whose 63rd Fighter Squadron, 56th FW, flew the
mission. He does not dignify MacRae by naming him in a letter that
is a model of self-control:
On June 15, at precisely 9:12 a.m., a perfectly timed four-ship
of F-16s from the 63rd Fighter Squadron at Luke Air Force Base flew
over the grave of Capt Jeremy Fresques....
... [B]ecause of the jet noise, I'm sure you didn't hear the
21-gun salute, the playing of taps, or my words to the widow and
parents of Capt. Fresques as I gave them their son's flag on behalf
of the president of the United States and all those veterans and
servicemen and women who understand the sacrifices they have
endured.
A four-ship flyby is a display of respect the Air Force pays to
those who give their lives in defense of freedom. We are
professional aviators and take our jobs seriously, and on June 15
what the letter writer witnessed was four officers lining up to pay
their ultimate respects.
The letter writer asks, "Whom do we thank for the morning air
show?"
The 56th Fighter Wing will call for you, and forward your thanks
to the widow and parents of Capt. Fresques, and thank them for you,
for it was in their honor that my pilots flew the most honorable
formation of their lives.
Meanwhile, Republic columnist Ed Montini followed up. "[L]ife
for most of us is so comfortable that we sometimes forget the
nation still is at war," Montini mused. "So much so that a solemn
mission of honor can fly directly over our heads yet remain under
our radar." He contacted Colonel Pleus and Fresques's widow,
Lindsey, also an Air Force captain, and recorded their words for
the Republic's readers -- those that made it to page B-10,
anyway.
Ingrates are scarcely a novelty. Kipling's barracks-room sang of
them; in these very pages I once recorded a similar put-down of a
similar ingrate from 1943. A good way to purge your attitude of
ingratitude, I find, is to look up, for instance, Jeremy Fresques;
and the four other airmen (three Americans, one Iraqi) who perished
with him in a Comp Air 7SL on Memorial Day, in an accident
unofficially blamed on a sandstorm. You will learn that Fresques
had only just made captain that morning; that he was a volunteer
for the hazardous world of special tactics; that he told his
mother, "Don’t watch the news, Mom. Don’t believe what
you see on television. The American military is doing a lot of good
in Iraq, and I’m proud to be part of the effort."
The military honors its own for many reasons -- one of them
being, who else will? Well, perhaps, we will. For those of you who
haven't personally lost a friend, unit member, or family member, I
suggest an exercise. I haven't got the space to tell you all that I
learned about Fresques and the men that perished with him in an
hour with Google. I recommend it to any of you as a good way to
spend an hour, and you can experience the same wonder and feeling
of discovery that I did. It will humble you, if you're any kind of
a human being.
Yes, Mr MacRae, in your own words, "Imagine our good fortune!"
That we have men like Jeremy Fresques, who instead of going to an
Ivy League school and focusing on some self-centered pursuit of
money or power, go to service acadamies, volunteer for risky
special operations units and put their lives on the line for people
that they'll never meet -- and that would sneer at them if they
ever did.
Imagine that.
(Note: I wanted to contact Mr MacRae for his side of things,
but there is no such listing in the white pages for Peoria,
Arizona. If he wants to talk, I'm hognose@aero-news.net
, and I'll pass it on).