A Letter To Yamada Sensei From A Soldier

The identity of the solider will remain confidential

Hello Sensei,

I'm over here in Afghanistan and wanted you to know I am doing well. Things here are busy. Not much Aikido and maybe that is something we should consider in our approach to try and bring about change. I have been up in the mountains and they are beautiful. It is unfortunate that there is a war going on here.

I was recently out on a mission in the mountains and the helicopter (bird) that was to extract us crashed. We were lucky to survive. We were at a location where small arms fire was not uncommon. As a result the bird came in fast and lifted off fast. As we came up the bird lost power and touched down momentarily in a wadi, what is a dried up creek bed or riverbed. We then lifted off again into a brown out of dust and dirt. Up we went moving forward when we banked hard to the right, saw rocks and slammed back into the wadi. We came down so hard I thought I broke teeth. The helicopter slammed, sliding sideways down an embankment and rolled into a creek. I ended up suspended by my seatbelt above a mass of body gear. The Special Forces guy across from me, we looked at each other, did not say it, but knew time was ticking for fire. Even after slamming in and rolling the rotor continued to slap the ground with thundering crashes and even as I tried to open the door they continued to slap and break apart sending shards, rock and dirt flying. I bent the door handle off in my hand and punched out the window in frustration. There was some difficulty for me to have to punch straight up with body plate armor on. The Special Forces guy motivated me with some choice words for this former SEAL and also proud to say former New York Aikikai Ushideshi. Once I was out on top of the bird, now sitting on its side in the creek, I almost fell 10 feet off the side. I looked back down into where I came from and realized they could not get out on their own. I also noted how the helicopter, with its tadpole shape to the tail had like a slide people could use down its back between the engine and flare boxes to get down to 4-5 feet and drop off the tail. So I lifted people out, lifting them by their body armor lift handle that is common behind the head. I must of lifted out 5-6 people while each time looking around for fire. At some point a crewman came up to help me lift people out. I would lift them out and tell them to slide down the tail. Almost left a guy when I thought we got everyone out, I looked back in and saw a hand and foot of a guy trapped under gear. I yelled for him to come to me. He freed himself and we got him out too. I then remember telling the crewman I'm out of here and slid down myself. I saw one of the guys taking up security around the downed bird and thought I would do the same on the other side. My legs hurt, head hurt, and had blood all over me. I was not in good shape, but we were on our own until help arrived. Luckily we went down near a forward operating base. So help was there by the time I limped to take up security on the other side of the creek. I saw someone else motion for them to take security positions and did the same waiving them to the flanks, when they complied I knew they were friendly. It was not long after that they MEDEVAC'ed me out of there. I'm doing better now and will hang in there to try and complete some things here before coming back. Not everyone can say the same. Maybe that's the Aikido I know. The ability to continue randori even when tired. I'm not saying I ever really did randori well, but I mean it in the mindset, the need to continue, even when out numbered and the chips are down. Even after your helicopter crashes and rolls over and everyone is disoriented, stunned and scared beyond belief that this really just happened, it has not yet stopped as the rotors slap and rip everything apart, the door is jammed and we have to act now to survive. I think it is the never give up thing, to go into automatic, like randori practice you taught me. Thanks.