LAW FROM THE CENTER

Today, word from MSNBC that the Army has decided to scrap the 25 year, $8 billion behemoth that is the Comanche Reconnaissance Helicopter. There will be much military analysis and finger pointing over this one; I'd like to sidestep the political issue and deliver a much more personal epitaph for the much-troubled helicopter.

When I first arrived at West Point 11 years ago, I thought that I would become an Engineer; I had pretty good math grades and that's what my dad always told me I would be good at. About three months into my plebe year, I went to the bookstore and bought my first computer game for my first IBM clone computer: NovaLogic's Comanche. I got hooked on that game, and from then on I knew I was going to be an Army Aviator, if for no other reason than to fly that dream piece of machinery. In January of 1994, the Owner's Manual of that software game said that Comanche would enter production in 1997. I could just taste it-the minute I graduated, I would be thrust into that technological Mercedes of the sky.

Well, 1997 came and went, I graduated and reported to Fort Rucker for flight training. Comanche wasn't here yet, so all of the really sharp officers decided to apply for Kiowa Warrior training. This is a 1970's era helicopter that has been modified with early 90's-style computerized instruments and weaponry. We knew that if we picked this aircraft, we'd be first in line for Comanche training when it was promised to us: late 2002. We were steely-eyed and rearing to go, knowing that after our first tour, Army Aviation would finally realize the dream of Force XXI, and we'd be flying the top of the line helicopter in the world.

Fast forward to 2002. After serving in two demoralizingly mundane peacekeeping missions in the Balkans, the steely-eyed romanticism of Army Aviation had worn off. We were sitting in a room, listening to a lecture by a Chief Warrant Officer from Project Comanche who was assuring us that this was still the top priority of the Army leadership and that it would be around in 2007. But we had heard enough lies by then. We saw the writing on the wall. There was a new SecDef in town and he wasn't very happy with Crusader or Comanche.

Never mind that Apache was based on 1970's technology and that all of our Kiowa airframes were built between 1968 and 1970. Never mind that our reconnaissance aircraft would wear out in 2012-2014 and there were no replacements on the horizon. Never mind that in the four years I spent flying the Kiowa, maintenance costs per flight hour more than doubled due to airframe aging. Never mind that we were flying our aircraft three-times the annual flight hour program that they were allotted. Once again, we knew we would soon be asked to do more with less.

We all knew this Warrant Officer talking to us was either lying through his teeth or hopelessly in denial (like we were a few short years before). There were a variety of reactions to the writing being on the wall. Some lucky few were selected for special ops aviation, where modernization actually happens instead of being a buzzword. Some jetted out of the Army completely, totally disillusioned with the process. Some of us (like myself) still wanted to serve our nation, but only in a branch with a future that the top leadership would support. A courageous few are still in the trenches, fighting the good fight, unsupported by any kind of vision for the future for Aviation.

What does all this mean? It could just be a story of naivete lost, of a junior officer realizing one ugly aspect of budgetary realities. Maybe the Comanche is an old war relic. Maybe it is based on old technology and costs too much. But if that's the case, then what IS the future? Are our soldiers doomed to flying aging aircraft that, over the years, will more and more resemble the "flying coffins" that General Billy Mitchell warned against? Clearly, with the death of Comanche, Aviation is no longer part of Force XXI modernization. What will the Army do to bring Aviation back into the modernization plan? How will they capture the imagination of our nation's best and brightest, who, like I did long ago, yearn to fly the best of the best?

NOTE: Thanks to Unlearned Hand for the heads up.