In My Own Words: Lt. Cmdr. Andy Bishop

Helicopter Aircraft Commander, Helicopter Sea Combat Squadron 84

I grew up in a little town north of Allentown, Pa. — a great place to grow up. When I was about 5, I told my parents I wanted to be a pilot. I read a book about World War I aviators; I thought it was the coolest thing ever. I had a history of doing things the hard way, so I looked at all of the services and who flew where and what and decided there can’t be anything harder than landing on a ship, so naval aviation was the thing I had to do.

When I joined, I wanted to fly A-6s (Intruder attack aircraft). The last guy to get A-6s got winged while I was still in primary training [the A-6 was withdrawn from service in 1997], so that dream evaporated. I fell into helicopters, and I loved it.

After my first tour in SH-60Bs (antisubmarine helicopters) flying off small boys (destroyers and frigates), I became a flight instructor. We were so desperate for pilots; we were actually having problems recruiting people to be naval aviators. Given my background, I had a real hard time digesting that one. I was getting frustrated with my students, trying to get them to be avid learners and have the big picture.

It was hard to get that across until 9/11. I drove all night from my grandfather’s funeral in Arizona to get back to the squadron. As soon as the flying ban was lifted across the country, we cranked up our operations again. I sat down with the students and said, “Now you know why you’re here. If you’re not in it for the long haul, I don’t want you here.”

When Operation Iraqi Freedom started, I was flying transports. A friend flying with a [special operations helicopter squadron] said his community was hurting for pilots. It was the kind of flying we always talked about. When I showed up at the squadron, I was one of the more experienced guys in terms of flight hours, but I felt very far behind the power curve for the first three or four missions that I flew. I felt like my hands were moving in cement. My thoughts were slowed down. The pace was very frenetic.

We do 90-120-day rotations to Iraq. If you get a mission like we do every day for a week straight, by the end of that, you’re fried. With these guys, every time you takeoff on a direct action, you know you’re going to do something. The majority of the stuff I did was inserts and extracts of [special operations] forces, close air support and surveillance for Rangers or SEALs and some kind of Iraqi force; overhead, with eyes on the ground for a convoy, clearing the roads, looking for bad guys; cover over the top of a house when they’re doing a breach. Another kind: we’ll have [special operations] guys onboard and fast-rope them down or land in a field somewhere.

Everything you do out there has a direct effect and is very, very satisfying, especially when we know in the brief we’ve got a name and a face. We’re going for this guy, this is what he does: he provides money, he provides sanctuary, he does the training, he’s a bomb maker, this is a bomb warehouse. When you know you’re going out to do that, it amps us up. Let me at ‘em. Even if you don’t get THE bad guy you’re going out for, odds are you’re going to roll up somebody else.