In the wake of the tragic crash of American Airlines Flight 5342 with an Army Black Hawk helicopter over Washington, D.C., and the Learjet 55 crash in Philadelphia, I’m reminded of a plane crash during my time in the Afghanistan War and how a group of soldiers with whom I served barely escaped a terrible fate high in Afghanistan’s Hindu Kush mountains.
In 2004, my Army unit was stationed outside the western Afghan city of Farah. Flights to and from the main air base at Bagram were rare and often delayed or canceled due to weather or various other concerns. This made it hard to rotate personnel home on leave. In order to maintain an effective fighting force, only a small percentage of our unit could be away at one time. Thus, one group had to return to Farah before the next could depart.
This became a problem when one leave group remained trapped at Bagram. Every day for weeks, the group reported to the flight line, hoping for a hop to Farah. Every day, they waited for hours until the flight to Farah was canceled. The men wanted to return to duty. Soldiers at Farah were eager for the group’s return so they could depart for their vacations.
Finally, on Nov. 27, 2004, the group’s chance arrived. They were called to board a plane owned and operated by private contractor Blackwater. Bagram called to notify Farah to expect these men on a flight that day.
One problem. Where was Specialist Oberson?
“He was in the long line at the Green Beans coffee stand,” said PFC Sears.
Sergeant Lockwood cursed and ordered Sears to double-time it and go fetch Oberson.
It wasn’t too short a trip from the flight line to Green Beans, but Sears was young and fast. Still, he was a little winded by the time he reached the coffee line.
“Oberson! They called our flight. We gotta go right now,” he said.
“Man, they been making us wait for weeks,” Oberson said. “Now they can wait for me. Just six guys in front of me. I’m gonna get my chai tea latte, my last good drink before my next eight months of that sludge coffee at Farah.”
Sears pleaded, but Oberson wouldn’t budge. The chai tea latte was non-negotiable. Finally, Oberson sauntered down to the flight line, sipping his delicious drink. However, by then, the flight, Blackwater 61, a CASA 212 dual-prop cargo plane, had left without them.
Lockwood figured they all might as well go get a coffee, and then he’d try to phone Farah to report his failure.
Back at Farah, a squad was sent to the airfield to pull security for the incoming flight. They waited hours after the plane’s ETA. Nothing. Finally, they radioed Farah base to ask if a flight was really coming. On the satellite phone, Bagram said the plane should have reached Farah hours ago. No one had heard from her. Soon enough, it was determined that the plane had crashed. The leave group was dead.
Farah went on communications lockdown to prevent anyone from leaking word of the lost soldiers until the Army could notify families. However, soon enough, the phone rang, and Captain Vaughn, the distressed commander, answered.
“Sir, this is Sergeant Lockwood. I’m so sorry. I know we were supposed to be back in Farah by now, but — ” Lockwood said.
“Is this some kind of sick joke?” said Vaughn. “Who is this?”
“Sergeant Lockwood, Sir. I tried to get us all on the flight, but — ” Lockwood said.
“Lockwood, can you verify that none of your group boarded that Blackwater flight?” asked Vaughn.
“Roger that, sir. I’m so sorry,” Lockwood replied.
The captain shook with relief and told Lockwood the plane had crashed. In the war, we faced many close calls, but none quite this profound. The entire leave group owed their lives to one soldier’s obstinate determination to drink one more chai tea latte.
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Trent Reedy, author of several books, including Enduring Freedom, served as a combat engineer in the Iowa National Guard from 1999 to 2005, including a tour of duty in Afghanistan.
*Some names and call signs in this story may have been changed due to operational security or privacy concerns.